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Chapter 12 - Chapter 12: Scent of Prey

The Derelict Sector had become a kingdom of anarchy overnight. The chemical fires burned brighter, and the air was thick with the scent of ozone, rot, and unchecked fear. For Jax, it was a sensory overload. Every shouted curse, every slammed door, every panicked heartbeat was a drumbeat, calling to the primal engine inside him.

He led them through the rubble, his head cocked, listening in a way Kaelen never could. "He's here," Jax whispered, his voice a low rumble. "The one from the Spire. Kaelen, dampen our sound. The crunch of gravel under our feet is a siren."

Kaelen nodded, activating a subtle field from his portable console. A bubble of near-silence enveloped them, muffling their footsteps and even the rustle of their clothing. It was unnerving, like moving through a ghost world.

"They hunt by sound and scent," Jax explained, his eyes scanning the shadows of a collapsed factory. "The fear is a beacon. Your tech hides us, but it can't hide the terror of his prey."

A scream, sharp and sudden, sliced through the twilight. It came from a half-collapsed warehouse. They moved as one. Inside, they found the other Lycan from the Spire. He was cornering a group of scavengers, his form fully shifted, a hulking mass of muscle and rage. But he wasn't attacking. He was pacing, snarling, confused. The scavengers were paralyzed with fear, their scent only agitating him further.

"See?" Jax said quietly. "The leash is gone, but the instinct remains. He's not hunting for OmniCorp. He's hunting because the chaos tells him to. Because their fear tastes like… like home."

"Can you reach him?" Anya asked, her hand resting on her non-lethal sonic pistol.

"I can try." Jax stepped out of the shadows, his hands raised, palms open. He didn't speak. He let out a low, chuffing sound, a complex series of grunts and exhales that was part greeting, part reassurance.

The other Lycan—a man named Rorke, Jax had remembered—spun around, his lips pulled back from terrifying fangs. He snarled, a challenge.

Jax stood his ground. He repeated the sound, then slowly, deliberately, let his own transformation begin. Not fully, but enough for the silver-grey fur to ripple over his skin, for his own eyes to glow in the dim light. He was speaking his language. I am like you. You are not alone.

Rorke hesitated, the blind rage in his eyes flickering with recognition. He took a step forward, sniffing the air.

It was then that a high-pitched whine cut through the tension. From a gantry above, a Kronos Industries drone descended, its red targeting laser painting Jax's chest. A synthesized voice echoed. "Subject identified. Asset retrieval protocol active."

The moment of connection shattered. Rorke, startled and enraged by the new threat, let out a roar and launched himself not at the drone, but at the closest source of his confusion—Jax.

The hunt was on, but they were no longer the only hunters.

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