Lord Of Beasts

Greg had almost all his available men searching for Dr Elias Smith.

He had invested an enormous amount of resources into the man, and his own ambitions of experiencing the power of the supernatural rested heavily on Elias’s research. For years, Greg had funded experiments, provided access to Association infrastructure, and quietly covered up the more questionable aspects of their work.

Just as things had finally begun to look promising with the sample obtained from Mark, Elias had disappeared.

And now, nobody could find him.

Kaela was one thing. Greg had known she was unpredictable from the beginning, and her raid had been an unfortunate consequence of allowing someone like her too much freedom. Elias, however, was different. Greg had always suspected the scientist was sly enough to pull a stunt like this eventually, so he’d taken precautions.

One of those precautions was a Titled whose ability allowed her to track people.

‘It doesn’t matter where you hide or what tricks you use.’

All she needed was a belonging of the person she wanted to locate. Once she had it, she could use her ability like a living radar, sensing the direction of her target and gradually narrowing down their location.

It wasn’t particularly useful in combat, but for finding someone who had vanished without a trace, it was perfect.

Unfortunately, what they found was troubling.

Not long before Greg’s search team arrived, Bilal and Aisha had left through the black, swirling portal.

Before leaving, however, the butler had taken care of the laboratory.

The enormous man produced a miniature black hole by slamming his fists together. It consumed everything within the underground facility, destroying the equipment, research data, and almost all traces of Elias’s existence. It was a thorough cleanup, ensuring that nothing useful would fall into the wrong hands.

Almost everything, anyway.

When Greg’s black suits finally arrived alongside the locating Titled, they found a massive, gaping hole where the underground laboratory had once been. The surrounding structure had been devastated, and there was barely anything left to examine.

One of the men contacted Greg immediately.

“Sir, he’s gone.”

“What do you mean, gone? How can he get away when you’re tracking him?!”

Greg’s voice was uncharacteristically volatile.

He had expected difficulties, but the entire point of hiring the locating Titled was to prevent Elias from disappearing into thin air.

“He’s dead, sir.”

“How can you be sure?”

Greg knew just how slimy Elias could be. If anyone was capable of faking his own death to escape responsibility, it was that man.

“Well…”

The agent hesitated before directing the camera toward the centre of the destroyed chamber.

Elias’s head lay among the wreckage.

Beside it was a marking Greg recognised immediately.

The symbol of Blessed.

It was the first direct move the organisation had made since their announcement, and they had chosen to leave him a message in the most literal way possible. Greg stared at the holographic feed for several seconds before abruptly ending the call.

“Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!”

He swept his arm across his desk, sending documents, equipment, and a collection of expensive devices crashing to the floor. He continued tearing apart his office, his anger growing with every shattered object.

This was not how things were supposed to go.

He had been so close to making real progress, and now Elias was dead, his research was gone, and an organisation claiming to serve beings beyond human understanding had decided to interfere with his plans.

Eventually, Greg stopped.

He stood amid the wreckage, breathing heavily, before slowly straightening his clothes.

“I’m not giving up yet.”

Elias’s head was still something to work with, and the Association contained other brilliant minds. There were researchers elsewhere in the world who might be capable of continuing the work, provided Greg could secure the right resources.

And there was another possibility he couldn’t ignore.

‘If they can actually grant Titles…’

Greg parked the thought.

He took a deep breath before reaching for his communicator and barking out orders to his black suits. They were to clean up the mess Kaela and Elias had left behind and recover whatever usable material remained.

Despite the setback, he wasn’t about to let that be the end of his ambitions.

‘This is just the start.’

–

Meanwhile, at Ethan’s house, things were considerably more peaceful.

A housewarming party was underway.

Elara had spent the past several days convincing Ethan that moving into a new home without celebrating with loved ones was bad luck. He’d tried to argue that the house was already furnished and perfectly functional, but she’d refused to listen.

Now seemed like as good a time as any, especially since Mark had finally stabilised his condition.

The oppressive fog that had lingered in Mark’s mind was gone, along with the weight that had constantly pressed against his chest. In its place, he felt an unfamiliar abundance of power. He could draw upon that dark-green, monstrous energy at will, and the realisation left him eager to experiment with his newfound abilities.

“We’ll have plenty of time to do that after,” Kaela had told him.

For once, everyone agreed that a little rest was in order. They had all been through enough recently, and nobody particularly wanted to spend the evening fighting another monster or dealing with some supernatural catastrophe.

So instead, they headed home.

Mark’s family had come over from next door and were busy exploring Ethan’s unusual house. Ethan watched them wander around with a faint smile, appreciating the effort Elara had put into organising everything.

She had arranged the party, prepared the house, and somehow managed to turn the place that haunted him into a second home.

‘I really lucked out with her.’

They had come a long way since their first unusual meeting, when Elara had abruptly asked to live with him. He certainly hadn’t expected their relationship to develop the way it had, but he wasn’t about to complain.

She had even invited someone he hadn’t expected to see.

Although, to be fair, he’d heard the vehicle approaching long before it arrived.

‘That lunatic has too much money.’

Nathan pulled up outside in yet another ridiculous car, this time a modified truck that looked ready to survive a zombie apocalypse. It was covered in spikes and reinforced plating, moved far faster than something of its size had any right to, and made enough noise to sound like a rocket launching.

The truck skidded to a stop in front of the house.

And rather than bothering to knock, Nathan apparently decided that doors were for ordinary people. He reached out to both passengers, phased them through the vehicle and beneath the ground, then brought them back up in the middle of Ethan’s living room.