Jason groaned as he opened his eyes, the world around him spinning. Morning light filtered through thick pines, painting streaks of gold on the dew-soaked underbrush. He blinked up at towering firs and a clear blue sky. This isn't a dream – his head throbbed and his body felt foreign, yet alive. He'd never seen a place like this. Crisp pine needles crunched under his palms as he pushed himself up. A cool breeze carried the scent of damp earth and wild grass. Somewhere a bird called out, sharp and cheerful.
He staggered to his feet unsteadily. His muscles screamed with an unfamiliar strength. What happened? His mind raced to remember – the last thing he recalled was sitting on his couch at home, controller in hand, playing "Eternal Moonlight Online" late into the night. Had he passed out? Here? No… this is the Avalon Woods, in Beacon Hills? Panic fluttered in his chest as confusion twisted his thoughts. He reached into his jeans pocket and felt emptiness. Nothing. He didn't even know how he had arrived. His mouth went dry.
"He's awake."
A rustling in the trees snapped Jason's head around. The voice was distant, distorted, sounding like an echo between trunks. The forest seemed suddenly alive. Jason's heart hammered. Was someone there? He squinted into the shadows, but saw only swaying branches. The voice came again, clearer: "Help… please."
It wasn't an echo. It was a cry. Human? Or something else?
The teenager jumped at a sudden movement to his left. A shape lunged out of the undergrowth – tawny fur, long muzzle, bared teeth. A coyote, wild and hungry, snarled in the low dawn light. It was snarling.
Instinct took over as fear coiled in Jason's gut. It was real – that coyote lunged with surprising speed, snapping at him. Jason backed up, arms instinctively up. He only had fists, no weapon. His mind flashed back to countless hours of video games, fighting wolves and beasts. Yet this was no game.
Time slowed. In a blink, Jason's consciousness shifted. A soft bing echoed in his mind. A translucent overlay flickered before his eyes, bathed in pale blue light. He stared at it, confused and awed.
―――――Pack Evolution System―――――
Name: Jason
Origin World: Earth-1621
Level: 1 (Novice)
EXP: 0/100
Species: Human (Reborn)
Affiliation: None
Pack: None
Health: 100/100
Stamina: 100/100
Mana: 30/30
Lucky Coin: In Inventory
Skills:
- 🗡️ **Boxer's Reflexes (Passive)**: Gain +5 Agility. Increases reaction speed in combat.
- 🧠 **Gamer's Intuition (Passive)**: Keen tactical insight; +3 to Intelligence. Allows noticing hidden dangers.
- 🚶 **Midnight Dash (Active)**: High-speed sprint for 5 seconds (Cooldown 10s).
― Quest ―
[X] Defeat wild beast and survive. (Active)
[X] Protect your life, discover purpose in this world.
Jason stared in shock. System? It was like a game interface floating in midair. He swallowed hard and willed himself to read faster. "Pack Evolution System," it said, shimmering above his chest. His gamer instincts kicked in: this was not a hallucination. Somehow he had been reborn into a world with a literal RPG-like system. His heart pounded with both terror and excitement. This was straight out of a video game.
The coyote snarled again, and Jason realized he still held his arms in defense. The panel hovered, analyzing the creature. A smaller box popped up showing a rough silhouette of the animal. Text scrolled beneath it:
― Enemy Detected ―
Type: Beast (Canine)
Threat Level: Low
Attitude: Hostile
Drops: Beast Fang, Beast Pelt
Weakness: Sharp Objects, Agility
EXP Reward: 50
Jason blinked. Threat Level: Low? He nearly flinched at the creature's sniffing snarl. Maybe in the system's terms, it was "low threat," but to him it felt quite deadly. His mind raced with options. He could run, but the coyote was blocking the only path forward. It lunged again.
Jason dropped into a defensive stance, fists raised. He had played countless brawlers; this was his moment. The coyote bit at his foot, tearing the denim. Sharp pain stabbed his calf. He hissed in pain but responded, channeling every lesson from fight games. He jumped back, then lunged forward in one fluid motion. With surprising agility, he jabbed his knee upward into the coyote's ribcage. The creature yelped and stumbled.
He followed up with a quick left punch to its snout. It staggered back. Midnight Dash! Jason instinctively tapped the side of his forearm, as if hitting an invisible button. In his mind the cooldown icon briefly glowed. The world blurred as adrenaline surged. With a burst of speed, he dashed around the coyote, bringing a heavy forearm into its shoulder. Bone-crunching sound echoed.
The beast whined, backing up. Jason could see dark blood on the underside of his knee from the bite, but adrenaline burned pain away. Encouraged, he raised a fist and swung with all his might at the coyote's head. The impact sent it tumbling sideways into the underbrush.
Before the animal could regain itself, Jason leapt atop it, pinning it with one knee. The coyote scratched frantically, but Jason had it locked. Breathing hard, he noticed in the corner of his vision the system interface again, bold letters flashing:
Level Up!
Jason: Level 1 → Level 2
Skill Points Earned: 2
Stat Points Earned: 5
A warm rush of triumph washed over him. He leveled up. This was unbelievable—he had practically been teleported into a game world and was leveling up in real time. His mind reeled with excitement as new options glowed on the panel.
Jason quickly allocated his stat points. With the coyote pinned and thrashing, he didn't want to panic on where to spend attributes, but he realized he needed to survive first. So with his logic, he tapped into whatever internal prompt. The interface highlights Strength, Vitality, Agility.
"Strength+3," he clicked in his mind, and the bar filled.
"Vitality+2," more points to health and stamina.
Now stronger, he could secure the fight. No hesitation this time. He grabbed a handful of fur at the coyote's neck, tugging as he rolled to the side. The momentum threw the animal off him. It howled, lunging desperately forward. Jason tossed a quick uppercut to its chin. The coyote crumpled to the ground, dazed.
Jason watched as the wounded beast lay still. At last, its eyes closed. It lay defeated in the soft morning light. The system updated one more time:
Rewards:
+50 EXP
+ Beast Fang x1 (Item)
+ Beast Pelt (Low Quality) x1
Jason's HP: 90/100
Jason's Stamina: 85/100
Breathing hard, Jason eased off the beast. His heart pounded like a drum in his chest. He still felt the sting on his leg, likely a deep bite wound. Blood matted his jeans. But strangely, he felt alive.
He peeled off a scrap of fabric to staunch the bleeding, then relaxed against a tree trunk. The adrenaline began to ebb, leaving a rush of endorphins and excitement. He actually did it. That had been real. The system was real. This was real. A world of magic and creatures. It was intoxicating and terrifying all at once.
Jason found he was breathing easily now. He wiped sweat from his brow. He took stock of himself. The system declared him at level 2, up from 1. His stats were slightly higher. He was still more a gamer than a warrior, but his reflexes and intuition, those skills they gave him, had saved his life.
As he sat catching his breath, he realized the quest still active: "Protect your life, discover purpose in this world." Did he have a purpose here? He reminded himself he needed information. What month was it? He rummaged his memory: September, before first period at Beacon Hills High, sometime in 2015. If so, he was before Scott's accident. He was in Beacon Hills, far from home on Earth, in possession of a crazy game-like system. His life had spun into the surreal.
Another noise broke his thoughts. Leaves rustled and footsteps approached quickly. Jason shot to his feet. Instantly his hand was on an imaginary weapon belt, ready to fight. To his surprise, a tall teenager with shock of dark curly hair and earnest eyes slowed down in front of him. A black dog—Mister Munch, Stiles' pet—trotted nervously at the boy's heels.
Stiles Stilinski froze a few paces away. In shock, he dropped the flashlight in his hands. "Whoa! Mr. Hale said he heard something… I thought it was a coyote." Stiles pointed at the limp body of the beast by Jason's feet. "But, uh, guess it's not coming to life, huh?"
Jason blinked. He hadn't expected a human. He held up hands to show he was not hostile. "H-hey, man. I'm okay." His voice rasped from exertion.
Stiles stared wide-eyed at the coyote corpse. Then he jumped back a step. "Oh—shit! Sorry, dude!" He raised one hand, palm outward. "I'm not going to shoot you. Really." His other hand still gripped the flashlight.
Jason managed a weak smile. "It's okay. I, um…" He didn't know how to explain. "Long story." He brushed pine needles off his jacket, suddenly feeling sheepish. This kid obviously thought he was some predator. He decided to keep it simple. "I was hiking and this coyote attacked me. I… defended myself."
The other teen knelt down at the animal. "That a coyote?" Stiles traced a finger along the creature's fur cautiously. "Wow. Those things can be vicious. Are you hurt?" He looked up, noticing Jason's scraped leg. "Dude, here—" he removed a red flannel from around his waist and offered it. "Wrap that around your leg. You can bleed out if it's deep."
Jason flinched as Stiles hurried over. The boy's concern was strangely comforting, even though Jason hardly knew him. He nodded. "Thanks, man." He let Stiles wrap his leg. Fingers were gentle. He could sense Stiles' nervousness. The presence of someone normal and friendly was a relief after the terrifying fight.
"That was quick," Stiles said softly. "I mean, it's not every day someone takes down a coyote with his bare hands." Jason's eyes flickered to the dead creature at his feet. The beast's eyes were now dull, and the forest grew quiet again.
"Yeah. Quick," Jason said. He inhaled and let it out. "I guess adrenaline helps."
Stiles patted Jason's shoulder. "You okay?"
"I will be." Jason wiggled his toes. No broken bones, thankfully. His leg still tingled, but it wasn't too serious. "I'm fine. Thanks."
They sat together for a moment, just breathing. Stiles gave a shaky laugh. "I'm Stiles, by the way. Stilinski. You?"
The name was familiar, but Jason shook his head. "Jason."
"Nice meeting you, Jason." Stiles smiled, even though their situation was weird. "You lost or something? This isn't exactly a tourist trail."
Jason wavered. Should he tell the truth? He was far from casual. But Stiles seemed genuine. He decided to give half the truth. "Sort of. I woke up here. I'm not sure how I got here." He shrugged. "Kind of the strangest day of my life."
Stiles' eyes widened at that. For a moment, Jason thought the kid would say something silly, but instead Stiles nodded slowly. "Yeah. Crazy things happen in Beacon Hills. I mean, it's a normal town, but weird stuff too."
Jason's curiosity flared. Stiles sounded oddly calm talking about weird stuff. "Weird stuff?" he asked.
Stiles glanced around like someone might overhear. "My dad and I, we're sheriff and sheriff's deputy. We come out here sometimes, investigating… animals gone bad, tracks that lead nowhere. People disappearing. Things that shouldn't be possible. Like that coyote. We thought maybe it could be connected to some werewolf activity, but—well, maybe not."
Jason's chest tightened. Werewolves? The word reverberated in his mind. The system panel hadn't mentioned anything like that yet, but Stiles said it like it was normal. Did he believe in actual werewolves? He decided not to delve into that now.
"Anyway, how about I give you a ride into town?" Stiles offered. "My jeep's back up at the parking lot."
Jason hesitated. This kid was a stranger, but Jason's leg needed attention and he had no clue where to go. Stiles was friendly, clearly not a threat. "Yeah, thanks," Jason said quietly.
A few minutes later, they were on the road, Stiles behind the wheel of a rusty black Jeep Cherokee. Mist curled through the trees as they drove. Jason sat wrapped in the flannel, watching Beacon Hills's outskirts pass by.
"I'm Stiles," the boy said cheerfully, glancing at Jason. "If there's a monster or something, we usually head back to my place. My dad says he might investigate official next time. But in the meantime, you're welcome there."
Jason nodded. It was kind. "I appreciate that, Stiles."
"Cool," Stiles said. He sped up a little over a speed bump, then winced. "Sorry, my dad likes it rough."
They drove in comfortable silence. Jason absorbed details: the town's name "Beacon Hills" on a sign, the remains of fall's red and orange leaves along the road. He memorized the route, in case he needed to find his way back.
Soon the Jeep rumbled to a stop in front of Beacon Hills Sheriff's office. The brick building looked sleepy in the early morning. Stiles turned off the ignition and turned to Jason. "Well, here it is. You wanna come in? We've got coffee and TV. Or I can just drop you off somewhere?"
Jason smiled gratefully. "Coffee sounds good." He inhaled the scent of pine still lingering on him. The familiar smell soothed him.
Inside, Sheriff Stilinski – a tall, stern man with kind eyes – surveyed Jason curiously, brushing off Stiles's excited account of "weird coyote guy who woke up from nowhere." He prodded Jason about ID and address, but Jason simply said he was new to town and needed help. Realizing Jason was a few years younger than Stiles, they decided it was best to let him rest.
Over cups of coffee, Sheriff Stilinski placed a gentle hand on Jason's shoulder. "Kid, you're lucky you didn't get hurt more. We'll get you patched up properly." They cleaned his bite wound and bandaged it securely. Jason winced as he sat still, but kept silent.
Stiles took a seat on the opposite side of the table. He leaned over. "So, Jason, how come a random dude wakes up in the woods with no memory? You were playing hooky from school or something?"
Jason thought. He hadn't been playing hooky. In his real life, he was just a nobody gamer with no social life. But now, he actually needed a life. He smiled awkwardly. "Something like that." He didn't want to admit to Sheriff Stilinski that he had died and came back (that would sound insane).
Stiles chuckled. "Cool name, by the way. Jason. (Stiles glanced at the nametag on the table in front of Jason.) New transfer student, huh?"
Jason turned, noticing for the first time a stack of papers and ID that Sheriff Stilinski had been silently filling out. On top, a school registration form from Beacon Hills High School. "How did that get there?" Jason asked, perplexed.
Sheriff Stilinski cleared his throat. "We thought maybe if you had no idea who you were or where you came from, you might have to start fresh. Beacon Hills High took a doc signed by me saying you're new and need to be enrolled. Might as well do it today. What grade are you, Jason?"
Jason blinked. He had no memories of high school classes or graduation dates. But he needed a plan. "Senior," he answered confidently. He was seventeen on Earth before. Being on the cusp of adulthood felt right. "I'll graduate early or something."
Stiles burst into laughter. "Chalk one up for taking charge, Jason!" he teased, elbowing Jason playfully.
Jason tried to laugh with him, a little unsure. But the warmth of their welcome felt genuine. They finished the coffee, and soon Jason stood, his makeshift bandage and adrenaline making him a bit shaky.
Sheriff Stilinski handed Jason the papers and a schedule. "You're in English first period. Room 102. Have a good first day, and remember, if anything weird happens, come find me." The sheriff winked knowingly at Stiles.
Jason grinned. "Thanks, sir." He felt, inexplicably, a surge of gratitude for this strange new family.
Nervously excited, Jason walked out of the station on unsteady legs. The sun was fully above the trees now. Beacon Hills High was a classic red-brick building with big windows and ivy climbing the walls. A group of students milled about the front lawn.
Stepping onto campus felt surreal. He'd played enough video game RPGs to know the "new player" trope. This was exactly like logging in for the first time and seeing names above people's heads. Except in real life, and very high stakes.
Jason mentally ran through the hall of fame: his system. He wondered if he could see the faces of new classmates as part of it. He didn't think it would pop up until needed. For now, he was just Jason, transfer student.
He clutched his rolled-up schedule, walking towards the school entrance. His heartbeat was steady now, more from nervous anticipation than fear. He entered through the heavy doors just as the bell rang.
The corridor buzzed with chatter. In one locker-lined hallway, one boy high-fived another. Next to him, a tall, lanky kid with curly dark hair and a huge grin looked exactly like the Stiles he met – it was Stiles, practically shining. He saw Jason and waved enthusiastically.
"Hey! How'd it go at the station?" Stiles asked quietly when classes hadn't started yet.
"Great. The chief called me a senior," Jason joked weakly, bumping fists with Stiles. "I think he set it up."
Stiles looked impressed. "Atta boy."
Bell rang again, and their hall began moving into classrooms. They parted ways. Stiles went one way, back to the office, and Jason followed the maps on his schedule to Room 102. The classroom was buzzing already; the teacher, Mr. Lewis, was greeting students. Jason slipped into a desk near the front row. He placed his coat over the back.
The class settled. Right away Jason spotted an attention-grabber – a vivid shock of red hair peeking between two chairs a few rows ahead. As the teacher began taking attendance, Jason's eyes flickered to the girl with fiery hair. She had a scowling expression and glanced at everyone like they were beneath her. She wore a known style: plastic bangles, pearls, and sporty-casual clothes, clearly someone who knew her status. A blonde girl sat beside her, pointedly ignoring the new guy by showing text messages on her phone.
Jason stared at the redhead. She held a ruler and thumped it on her desk. Lydia Martin. He didn't know it by name yet, but something felt like déjà vu. Maybe he'd seen her on a show or something, he thought. His gamer mind noticed a tiny flicker: a faint pulse of deeper awareness. But Stiles had warned him about weirdness, so he said to himself: Don't be crazy. Probably just an attractive girl he's noticed. He tucked the thought away.
"Jason Sato?" The teacher called. The boy with glasses three rows up raised his hand at the attendance.
"Right here, Mr. Lewis." Jason answered. He realized there were no big reactions; everyone seemed busy, maybe the new guy always goes unnoticed except by the loudest people.
The day's classes passed in a blur of introductions and avoiding eye contact.
At lunch, the cafeteria hummed with activity. Jason sat alone at a corner table, opening a ready-made sandwich. He didn't mind the solitude – typical first day vibe, plus he was a bit woozy from his ordeal. As he chewed, he spotted out of the corner of his eye someone standing near the double doors: the red-haired girl, Lydia, striding purposefully. She flashed a brief grin at two girls waiting by the drinks stand; they giggled.
Something in her eyes caught Jason's attention. It was like golden light reflecting... and then it briefly flickered oddly. His head snapped back to the food, heart thumping. Imagining things again… he scolded himself. He tried to ignore it, focusing on actually finishing lunch and maybe signing up for a sports team (the system said his agility was up, so maybe track or cross-country?).
When lunch ended, Jason hopped between classes. His next period was physics. In the lab, he felt out of place but managed to follow the teacher's lecture. During a break, he got up to use the restroom. On the way, he passed a quieter hallway.
He froze as a flash of movement in an alcove caught his eye. There, half-hidden in the shadows, was a slender figure. Dark hair hung around her face. She crouched beside what looked like a dog – but the dog's eyes were uncanny, almost human-like, wild. A blonde girl was talking to her, but the woman was edging closer, as if moving on all fours. Jason's instincts screamed.
It's a coyote.
A shiver ran down Jason's spine. The girl saw him watching and — without missing a beat — the "dog" gave a slow growl. Then, quietly, the girl turned and ran off down the hall. The dog-coyote didn't chase. Jason rubbed his eyes. This had to be some kind of prank or maybe a dream. He looked at the dog. It hopped up on a wall and scurried off through a window that led outside.
His mind raced. Am I going insane? A girl with a giant coyote?
A hand on his shoulder made him jump. He turned to see a petite woman with kind eyes, the physics teacher, smiling gently. "Feeling okay, Jason? You looked like you saw a ghost."
Jason managed a nod. "Yeah, just... tired," he said.
After class, as the halls cleared, Jason decided to step out for a breath. In the bright sunshine, he leaned against the brick wall. He took out the system interface again, idly browsing. His eyes widened as a notification blinked in vivid letters:
Encounter Detected: Lydia Martin
Subtype: Unknown.
Level: ?
Affinity: ??? (Mystery)
Encounter Outcome: Potential Bond
Jason blinked. The interface had recognized someone. It showed Lydia's name and said "Potential Bond." His eyebrows shot up. Bond? Why? he wondered. He closed the panel and looked around; no one saw him.
Oh God, this really is a game for real.
He felt a tingling in his chest. Lydia Martin? Why would the system think that? He didn't even talk to her. Maybe the fateful aura concept again.
Shaking his head to clear the strange feeling, he decided to explore the grounds. As he walked behind the school, the football field spread out before him, empty except for the chill breeze.
Up on the track, he saw another girl jogging alone in casual attire, long dark hair in a braid. She moved with confidence. The girl did a few sprints, then paused to tie her shoelaces.
Then an electric crackle split the air, startling Jason. He turned and discovered the girl crouched at an open utility box by the fence. Blue sparks danced around her fingertips as she fiddled with some wires inside. She looked up, eyes wide.
"Oh!" she gasped, turning off the sparks. She ran a hand through her hair, flashing Jason a nervous smile. The boy approached hesitantly.
"Uh, sorry, I didn't mean to intrude," he said, stepping carefully. "I was just getting some fresh air."
The girl stepped back, her cheeks pink. "No problem," she said, her voice a melodic accent that Jason recognized as East Asian. "I'm… I'm Kira Yukimura." She extended her hand hesitantly.
Jason realized the system might have keyed on her name. (He could've seen her on the roster or heard Stiles mention new transfer from Japan). He shook it. Her grip was light, but in the short contact, he saw a flicker of golden light in her eyes – or maybe just the sun reflecting. It was gone before he could process it.
"I'm Jason," he answered. His heart skittered; she was cute and shy, with shy smile. Yet something strange lingered. Did he just see sparks? Was she nervous because of the electricity, or something else?
"I… um, this place gave me static." She shrugged. There was a small electricity burn pattern on the wires. "Sorry."
"No, no, it's okay," Jason reassured. He noticed her blouse flutter where tiny arcs of lightning had danced. She's the lightning girl, isn't she? Stiles had mentioned something about a new girl.
Kira followed as he walked back in. "First day gotcha into some weird stuff?" she asked quietly, managing a small smile. Jason chuckled. "You have no idea." They parted ways when the next bell rang, but as he walked, he thought about her.
His system buzzed in his mind again:
Encounter Detected: Kira Yukimura
Affinity: Medium (Potential Ally)
Special: Unidentified Aura (Possible Kitsune? Not yet unlocked)
Jason blushed; he didn't even press the panel open. How did it do that automatically?
That evening, Jason glanced at the schedule and realized he still needed to meet one more person: the wild coyote girl from the hall. Now outside the building, he took a detour past the empty tennis courts. Nearby, a teenager with wavy brown hair sat with her knees up, her eyes scanning the woods beyond the chain-link fence. A black dog watched, alert. Jason recognized them instantly.
"Malia?" he asked softly, unsure how she'd react.
She looked up, surprised. "Don't come closer." Her voice was low, cautious. Her eyes glowed gold in the fading light. The coyote at her feet whimpered.
Jason raised his hands. "It's okay, I'm not a monster. Just... Jason. We sort of ran into each other earlier." He offered a friendly smile. "Are you alright?"
Malia, lean and fierce-looking, scanned him warily. She wore a flannel around her waist, similar to his stolen from Stiles earlier. "I'm fine," she muttered, standing up slowly. In her human form she was quiet and cold. She brushed a strand of hair back. "That is, unless you're with—" She trailed off, eyes reflecting evening stars.
Confused, Jason shrugged. "I'm not with anyone. Look, I've seen stranger things today, trust me."
Malia narrowed her eyes, then nodded stiffly. She glanced at her bleeding dog. "It's okay… She got hit by a car last week. I was, uh, managing."
"Oh." Jason's eyes followed her gaze. At the end of the road, there was a defeated shadow of a pickup truck with a crushed fender. The dog limped, but seemed mostly okay.
Malia's shoulders relaxed a fraction. She lowered her hand, and Marcie the dog trotted over. Jason knelt, letting the dog sniff his leg. "You have good timing," he told Malia gently.
She snorted, but he saw a flash of relief. "Yeah, well."
There was silence. Students started trickling out. Jason realized they were standing near the exit from school.
He went to leave, but the system pinged one last time, words dancing in his vision:
Encounter Detected: Malia Tate
Affinity: Low (Guarded)
Background: Feral Instincts (Know as Desert Wolf)
Warning: Approach with caution
Jason gave Malia a small wave as he passed. Malia said nothing. But as he walked away, she whispered, "Bye."
Jason blinked back. Could have sworn her eyes were just a touch gold as she turned back to her dog. Then normal brown again. Was he really seeing things? Or was it the system whispering clues to him?
Regardless, these encounters left him feeling uncanny. First, Lydia with her aura; then Kira with lightning; Malia with her wildness. The system's intuition was proving eerie. He took a deep breath and squeezed his binder tight. This wasn't the world of his old life anymore. This was real. And somehow, he was at the center of it.
Inside, Beacon Hills High had emptied out for the day. Jason headed home, mind swirling with possibilities. His phone buzzed – a text from Stiles: Welcome to Beacon Hills, dude. We should hang. Shred the gnar some time? –Stiles. Jason grinned. Shred the gnar maybe meant skateboarding? Possibly something. He typed back, Haha, sure. Thanks.
That night, lying in the bed Sheriff Stilinski had offered in the spare room (Jason insisted he could handle a sleepover at 17), he stared at the ceiling. Potential bonds… future pack members? The Pack Evolution System definitely thinks they're special. He replayed every conversation and glance. He wasn't just hallucinating the interface – this panel had names and hints. His heart fluttered at the thought that it cared about these people.
It wants a pack, Jason realized. The other students were forming strange destinies with him. Lydia the banshee, Kira the lightning kitsune, Malia the werecoyote – although he hadn't said that, he suspected it. And Stiles, the hyperhuman sidekick.
A memory popped into his mind from the game he used to play: if he gathered strong allies, leveling and powers multiplied. Perhaps forming bonds with those potential allies would unlock something powerful.
Jason sat up, eyes wide. Pack Evolution System indeed. Maybe he was meant to be a leader. A guardian. The morning's system message all but screamed a quest: to find others like him. Not just others like him, but others to protect.
He lay back on the cot and smiled to himself. Tomorrow he'd see them again: he had to. The system might show him how to strengthen their bonds. For now, it was late and he was exhausted beyond belief. He closed his eyes, muscles finally relaxing.
Tomorrow was going to be a day unlike any other.
End of Chapter 1.