The night stank of iron, smoke, and grease. Sirens cut through the industrial zone as headlights washed over the abandoned factory walls. Inside, shadows scurried like rats.
"Factory Hyb-Com," Hussain muttered, cocking his pistol as he adjusted the badge gleaming on his chest. "Rumors say human and hybrid smuggling, weapons trade… maybe worse."
Dylan, standing beside him in crisp uniform, clenched his jaw. His heart pounded. The rookie days were over—tonight was their first raid as full-fledged officers.
"Stay sharp," Dylan said, voice tight. "Ali trusted us with this. We can't screw up."
"Relax, partner." Hussain smirked, his dark eyes flashing with that reckless courage Dylan both admired and feared. "We're the Vefas now. They'll remember us."
Boots thundered behind them as the squad broke the rusted gates and stormed the floor. The factory came alive with chaos—crates splintered, gunfire cracked, and strange shrieks echoed.
Inside, Dylan's eyes widened.
Cages.
Dozens of them, lining the walls. Men, women, even children—some fully human, some half-beast hybrids with fur, tails, ears, scales. Their terrified eyes gleamed in the dim light.
"This is… worse than the files said," Dylan whispered, bile rising in his throat.
Hussain's grin dropped. He raised his gun, barking: "Police! Drop your weapons, NOW!"
But the guards didn't flinch. They weren't street thugs—they were soldiers, hardened, ready.
"Get down!" Dylan roared as bullets screamed past, sparking off steel beams.
The raid spiraled into chaos. Smoke, shouting, blood.
Dylan fired, his aim steady despite trembling hands. Every shot felt heavier than the last. Hussain moved like lightning, a blur of fists and bullets, covering Dylan's blind spots without hesitation.
Then—Dylan's breath caught.
In the center of the factory, a towering figure emerged. A hybrid. Half-wolf, half-man, eyes burning red in the haze. Chains clattered as he stepped forward, muscles rippling, fangs bared.
The Wolf roared, and every cop froze for a heartbeat too long.
"Dylan!" Hussain shouted, shoving him aside just as claws slashed through the air.
The battle wasn't against smugglers anymore. It was against something beyond them.
And Dylan, for the first time, felt the first cracks of doubt—about the law, about justice, about whether the badge on his chest could ever stop monsters like this.
The Wolf's roar shook the rafters, claws tearing through steel like paper. Every cop froze, instincts screaming that this was no ordinary hybrid.
"Fall back!" the captain yelled, but Hussain stepped forward instead, gun raised, stubborn as ever.
The Wolf lunged—faster than their eyes could follow.
"Dylan!" Hussain shoved him again, and this time Dylan hit the ground hard, rolling against a broken crate. He looked up—just in time to see Hussain's gun ripped from his hands, claws aiming for his throat.
Then it happened.
A blur of sleek muscle and spotted fur tore into the Wolf from the side. The sound wasn't gunfire—it was flesh ripping, bones snapping. A woman, no—a creature, half-jaguar, half-human, her golden eyes burning with savage fury, sank her claws into the Wolf's chest and ripped him apart as if he were made of cloth.
Blood sprayed across the factory floor. The Wolf howled once, a sound that rattled the earth—then gurgled into silence, his body collapsing into a broken heap.
The factory froze. Cops, smugglers, hybrids—everyone stared.
She stood there, panting, her dark hair matted with blood, spotted skin gleaming under the flickering lights. Her claws dripped crimson. Her gaze snapped to the cages, to the humans and hybrids trembling inside. Then her eyes locked on Dylan.
For a moment, the chaos melted into silence.
Dylan's breath caught. Something unexplainable twisted inside his chest—a pull, a spark, a strange recognition he couldn't name.
The Jaguar Woman licked the blood from her claws, sharp teeth glinting, then spoke for the first time.
"You're wasting your lives fighting the pawns," she said, her voice deep, mocking, but strangely… broken. "The real monsters are the ones who built these cages."
And before Dylan—or anyone—could move, she vanished into the smoke.
Only the shredded corpse of the Wolf remained, and Dylan's pounding heart, echoing louder than the gunfire that slowly started again.
The stench of blood still lingered as Dylan scrambled to his feet, his pulse hammering. Ariel was gone, but her presence still burned in his eyes. Hussain staggered up beside him, spitting dust.
"Dylan—focus!" Hussain snapped, pointing at the cages.
Right. The captives.
The two rushed to the iron bars. Dylan's hands shook as he fumbled with the lock, but adrenaline and fury gave him strength. He tore at the rusted chains until they snapped. The prisoners—humans and hybrids alike—stumbled out, weak, bruised, their eyes hollow with terror.
"It's over," Dylan said, voice raw. "You're safe now."
But Hussain wasn't convinced. He scanned the room, gun ready. "No… it's too easy. Smugglers this big don't vanish."
As if on cue, a grinding sound echoed. A portion of the back wall slid open—hidden machinery groaning to life. A concealed doorway, wide enough for a truck, yawned open.
Dylan spun, too late. Shadowy figures already fled through it—smugglers, scientists, guards—vanishing into the darkness beyond. Their footsteps echoed like taunts.
"Shit!" Hussain cursed, sprinting after them, but the mechanism slammed shut before he could reach it. His fists pounded the wall, but it was useless. "They were right here! They planned this!"
The freed captives whimpered behind them. Dylan gritted his teeth, torn between chasing ghosts and protecting those still breathing.
He grabbed Hussain's shoulder. "We save who we can now. The rest—we'll hunt later."
Hussain clenched his jaw, fury burning in his young eyes, but he nodded. Together, they herded the survivors out of the factory, sirens already wailing in the distance.
As they emerged into the pale night, Dylan glanced back one last time. The factory smoldered, blood and smoke rising. And in his mind, the image of Ariel—the hybrid jaguar who tore through monsters like paper—burned brighter than the fire itself.
He didn't know it yet.
But this night would follow him forever.
The police trucks screeched to a halt outside the smoldering factory. Dylan and Hussain personally loaded the captives into the vans, making sure each one was rushed toward the city hospital. Many were too weak to walk, others half-conscious, their skin mottled with bruises and injections. Dylan refused to leave until the last stretcher was carried in.
Inside the hospital, white fluorescent lights replaced the shadows of the factory. The smell of antiseptic clung to the air. Dylan gave his badge at the desk and ordered, "Check them up first. Full vitals, toxin screens, scans—everything. They've been experimented on. Don't waste time with paperwork."
The nurse nodded, fear written across her face. The doctors, though rattled, complied. Gurneys rolled past, IV lines hooked, blood samples drawn. Dylan leaned against the wall, his hands still trembling from the fight.
Hussain came up beside him, wiping grime off his face. His jaw was set, his tone sharp. "You saw her, didn't you?"
Dylan didn't answer at first. His eyes tracked one of the victims—a boy no older than fourteen—being wheeled away.
"Dylan," Hussain pressed. "That woman. Half jaguar, half human. What the hell was that?"
Finally, Dylan spoke, his voice low, almost hollow. "She wasn't like the others. She wasn't trapped… she was free. And she was powerful."
"Too powerful," Hussain muttered. His fists tightened. "She ripped that werewolf apart like it was nothing. And she looked right at us… like she knew who we were."
Dylan swallowed hard. Ariel's golden eyes flashed in his mind. He couldn't forget the calm savagery in them—the wildness wrapped in something almost… human.
"Do you think she was one of them?" Hussain asked. "Or… something else?"
Dylan shook his head slowly. "I don't know. But I felt… she wasn't running. She was choosing."
Hussain cursed under his breath and kicked the wall lightly. "And the smugglers slipped through our fingers. If she was with them—"
"She wasn't with them," Dylan cut in sharply. His voice carried conviction that startled even him. "No… she was something different."
Silence settled between them, heavy with questions neither could answer.
Then the intercom buzzed overhead: "Officers Dylan and Hussain, report for debrief."
Hussain glanced at Dylan. "You think the higher-ups are gonna believe this?"
Dylan exhaled, his fists tightening. "No. And maybe… they're not supposed to."
By the next morning, the city burned with whispers and headlines. News vans crowded outside the hospital, cameras flashing, reporters screaming questions at every officer who passed.
"Hybrid Woman Spotted at Smuggling Factory!" blared across TV screens. Grainy footage, shaky and blurred, captured Ariel's silhouette mid-strike—the claws, the feline tail whipping through the smoke, the half-human face drenched in firelight.
No one could deny it anymore.
Inside the hospital briefing hall, Dylan and Hussain sat across a table from their superior. The Chief slammed a newspaper onto the desk. Ariel's distorted image stared back from the front page.
"You see this?" the Chief barked, his voice trembling with restrained fury. "Do you know what you've done?!"
Hussain leaned forward, his tone defiant. "We didn't do this. The hybrids exist. You think the public won't find out? They already have."
The Chief's hand slammed again. "Shut your mouth, Hussain! You don't understand the storm you've just unleashed."
Dylan's voice cut in, calm but firm. "We saved lives. That's what matters. And if these hybrids are real—and they are—then the people have a right to know."
The Chief glared, lowering his voice to a growl. "Listen to me, both of you. These smugglers aren't street trash. They have money, protection, men in places you don't even imagine. Do you think the police force wants this kind of war? Do you think the city can handle panic about monsters walking among them?"
Hussain scoffed. "So what—you cover it up? Pretend the woman who tore apart a werewolf didn't exist? The cameras caught it, Chief. It's everywhere."
The Chief's jaw tightened. He leaned closer, whispering like venom. "And if you keep talking, you won't live to wear that badge another day."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Hussain looked at Dylan, searching his partner's face for resolve. Dylan's eyes didn't waver—still replaying Ariel's golden stare in his mind.
Finally Dylan spoke, steady but heavy. "Then maybe the truth is worth the risk."
The Chief froze, his nostrils flaring, then slammed his hand one final time. "Get out. Both of you. Before I decide you're more dangerous than the hybrids."
The air outside the precinct was heavy, sticky with cigarette smoke from the crowd of reporters waiting at the gates. Flashes of cameras exploded, but Dylan and Hussain slipped past, ducking into the alley beside the station where the noise couldn't follow.
Hussain kicked at a stray bottle, muttering under his breath. "Damn them. Damn the Chief. Damn the press. They all act like we're the villains just for saving lives."
Dylan didn't answer. He stood against the cold brick wall, head bowed, replaying the moment in the factory—the jaguar woman's feral grace, the way her claws shredded the werewolf like it was paper, and yet… the fleeting sadness in her eyes.
Hussain noticed his silence and turned. "What's with you? You've been off since last night."
Dylan took a shaky breath, then spoke, his voice low. "I can't stop thinking about her."
Hussain blinked. "The hybrid?"
Dylan's gaze hardened, though his cheeks burned with shame. "She wasn't just a hybrid. She was… alive. More than that, Hussain. I've seen monsters before, criminals, killers. She wasn't like them. There was something… human in her."
Hussain raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Don't tell me—you're crushing on a half-jaguar, half-woman who could rip your throat out."
Dylan swallowed hard but didn't deny it. "I don't know what it is. But when I looked at her… I felt like she wasn't the danger. She was trapped in all of this. Maybe even more than the people we pulled out of that factory."
For a moment, Hussain just stared. Then he let out a sharp laugh, clapping Dylan on the shoulder. "You're insane, Vefa. Totally insane. But—" his grin softened, almost brotherly, "—that's what makes you you. Always chasing after the impossible."
Dylan didn't smile back. His voice was grave. "It doesn't feel impossible. It feels like fate."
Silence stretched between them, the sound of distant reporters shouting fading into the background.
Hussain sighed, finally shoving his hands into his pockets. "If you're serious about this, then you better be ready. Because if the gangs don't kill you for poking your nose where it doesn't belong, the higher-ups sure as hell will."
Dylan nodded, eyes fixed on the horizon. "Then let them come. If it means finding her again… I'll take the risk."