*Side Character: Maya Chen (Derek's Sister)*
Maya had always been the strong one in the family. When their parents were turned during the 2019 outbreak, she'd held twelve-year-old Derek as he sobbed, promising him everything would be okay. When they'd emerged from quarantine as lycanthropes, she'd taught him control, pride, how to live between two worlds.
Now she stood over his body in the morgue, and strength meant nothing.
"I'm sorry," Detective Hyatt said behind her. "He was trying to help us. If I'd known the killer would—"
"Would what?" Maya's voice came out steady. Twenty-six years of control. "Target him for talking to cops? Use him as another message?"
Derek's chest had been carved with surgical precision: "THE WEAK FEED THE STRONG."
"Your brother wasn't weak," Hyatt said.
"No. He was kind." Maya touched the glass separating her from Derek's corpse. "In this city, that's the same thing."
Her phone buzzed. Text from an unknown number: *Your brother died because he chose the wrong side. Choose better. - A Friend*
The same signature the detective had mentioned. Maya's claws extended involuntarily, scratching the glass.
"Ms. Chen?" Hyatt stepped forward. "What is it?"
Maya handed over the phone. Watched the detective's face harden.
"They're escalating. Getting personal." Hyatt screenshot the message. "I can put you in protective custody."
"No." Maya's laugh was bitter. "I work at Prometheus Institute. Biomedical research. I've heard whispers about Dr. Dergors' project, about what Chance was supposed to be versus what it's become."
The detective's eyes sharpened. "You have access to Prometheus?"
"Had. They put anyone connected to the Chance project on administrative leave yesterday. But I still have friends inside. People who are scared." Maya finally looked away from her brother. "Someone needs to stop this before more Dereks die. Before more Chrises lose themselves."
"What do you know about the silver strain?"
Maya's blood chilled. "That's just rumors. Urban legend. A version of Chance that rewrites DNA, makes the enhancement permanent."
"It's real. We have samples."
"Then God help us all." Maya pulled up her sleeve, showing old track marks. "I was an addict before I was turned. Heroin. Being a lycanthrope saved me—the enhanced metabolism burns through most drugs too fast to get hooked. But Chance..."
"Changes the playing field."
"Destroys it. If there's really a permanent version, every desperate human in this city will kill for it. And every supernatural will kill to stop them." She met Hyatt's eyes. "My keycard might still work. One time. What do you need from Prometheus?"
It was insane. Breaking into the most secure research facility in the city. But Derek was dead, carved up like a warning, and Maya had spent her whole life being the strong one.
Time to prove strength meant more than just claws and fangs.
---
*Alvin "Boz" Parsons*
The meeting was held in neutral territory—an abandoned church in the industrial district. Boz arrived with Marcus and two others, all enhanced on Strain A. Across the rotting pews sat Victoria Campos, matriarch of the Vampire Syndicate, flanked by her own security.
"Ms. Campos." Boz inclined his head respectfully. "Thank you for agreeing to meet."
"Don't thank me yet." Her voice carried centuries of authority. "You've upset the balance, Mr. Parsons. Your drug is causing chaos."
"My drug is causing evolution."
"Evolution?" She laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "I've lived through the Black Death, two world wars, and the Disclosure riots. This isn't evolution. It's extinction. Yours."
Marcus tensed beside him, but Boz remained calm. He'd expected hostility. "What if I told you someone else is manufacturing Chance? Lethal strains designed to kill users and frame us for it?"
Victoria's expression didn't change, but her security shifted subtly. "Go on."
"Four of my dealers are dead. Seventeen civilians. All from strains we didn't produce. Someone's trying to start a war between species."
"War was inevitable the moment humans gained our strength without our control." Victoria leaned forward. "But let's say I believe you. What do you want?"
"Information. Your syndicate has eyes everywhere. Who's producing the silver strain?"
For the first time in their meeting, Victoria looked genuinely surprised. "Silver strain?"
"Permanent enhancement. Genetic modification. Someone's playing God."
"Someone's always playing God." Victoria stood, her movement liquid grace. "But this... this is different. If humans can truly become like us permanently..."
"They won't need us anymore," Boz finished. "Won't fear us. Won't respect the old boundaries."
"Won't be human." Victoria studied him with ancient eyes. "You think you're elevating your species. You're destroying it. Humans are meant to be mortal, fragile. It's what makes you beautiful."
"Easy to say when you're immortal."
"Immortality is a curse, Mr. Parsons. But you'll learn that soon enough." She moved toward the door, then paused. "There's a government facility. Fort Dearborn. Officially decommissioned. My sources say there's been activity there. Military convoys. Scientific equipment."
"Government's making their own Chance?"
"Or trying to stop yours. Either way, people are disappearing. Enhanced humans off the streets. They don't come back." She met his eyes. "Your revolution has awakened sleeping giants. I hope you're prepared for what comes next."
After she left, Marcus spoke. "She's right. This is getting too big."
"It was always going to get big." Boz stared at the rotting cross above the altar. "Question is whether we ride the wave or get crushed by it."
His phone rang. Solomon.
"We have a problem. Dr. Dergors is missing. And I'm picking up chatter about a raid. Multiple agencies. They're coming for us."
Boz closed his eyes. The game was accelerating. Time to go all in.
"Burn it all. The lab, the samples, everything. We go underground."
"What about the product?"
"Distribute everything we have. Flood the market. If they want war..." He opened his eyes. "Let's give them chaos instead."
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