Where the Predators Prowl [Ch 36-38]

36: Roughhousing

I couldn’t help but laugh as Candace and Adelle rolled across the floor, a tangle of silver and orange fur, fake cries, and playful snarls filling the room. Candace made no effort to cover herself, her fluffy tail swishing provocatively as she squirmed in Adelle’s grip, who's robe was coming off too during their play-fight. 

“Halp!” Candace gasped dramatically, her gray eyes sparkling with mischief as she shot me a sultry glance. “This beast is ravaging me!”

“Ravaging, huh?” Adelle snorted, tightening her hold and giving Candace’s behind a swat. “Keep wiggling like that, Loops, and I’ll show you ravaging.”

“Is that a promise?” Candace purred, arching her back just enough to emphasize her assets, her voice dripping with mock seduction.

“For Slayer’s sake, put some clothes on, you shameless vixen,” Kristi growled, her emerald-violet feathers bristling.

“Why?” Candace asked. “It's not like Alec isn't staring at your tits now.”

Kristi flashed violet and yanked her own robe tighter around herself. Her gold eyes flicked to me, narrowing as if I were somehow responsible for Candace’s antics. “You! Stop encouraging this!”

“I’m not encouraging anything,” I commented, trying not to laugh.

“You’re not reprimanding them either,” Kristi pointed out. “Look, they're practically making out! No, wait, don’t look!” She blocked the view of the fox and cheetah with her frame, arms crossed over her chest, feathers fluttering.

“Nuuu! Stop raptor-censoring us!” Candace laughed. “Boo!”

Nessy, still curled against my side, let out a soft giggle, her black-and-white mane tickling my arm. “Slayer, they’re encourageable,” she murmured, her blue eyes warm with amusement. Her paw tightened on my chest, dark claws grazing my skin just enough to send a shiver down my spine.

"Hey, sooooo," Nessy asked, her voice low as she leaned closer to my face. "What's the deal with you and the fox, anyway?"

"Deal?" I repeated, my brain struggling to process as to how close she was, her breath tickling my skin. "There's no deal. She's just... like that."

"Like what?" Nessy pressed, her blue eyes searching my face. "Constantly invading your personal space? Flirting with you? Kissing you without permission?"

“Yes,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Candace is essentially a space invader in prad form. She has no concept of boundaries—or maybe she does, and she just enjoys crossing them for fun to mess with me. We're not... together or anything, if that's what you're asking. I haven't had much interaction with girls or prad girls for that matter back home so I honestly have no idea how to deal with her."

Nessy's ears twitched, and I could have sworn I felt her relax slightly against me. "So there's nothing going on between you two?"

"Other than her trying to scandalize everyone in a five-mile radius? No." I shook my head. "I've known her for two days, Ness. Two very long, very bizarre days."

Nessy considered this, her tail swishing thoughtfully. "You didn't seem to mind the kiss," she observed, her tone carefully neutral.

I felt heat rising to my cheeks. "I was caught off guard," I said defensively. "And she pranced off before I could even say anything this time."

"Mmm-hmm," Nessy hummed, not sounding entirely convinced. “Hang on, this time?”

I sighed. "Yeah, she tried kissing at the hotel yesterday. I pulled away then."

"But not this time," Nessy observed, her tail swishing a bit faster.

"She was way faster this time!" I protested. “And she's in my pack with you now, which… I honestly don't know what it means! It's not like we're dating or anything!”

Nessy huffed in response.

“Bind arms!” “Oi that’s cheating, gimme back my arms!” I heard Candace's and Adelle’s voices from below.

Cheeky gray eyes appeared over the rim of the bed, silver ears wiggling. A mischievous grin spread across her face as she reached toward me with slender fingers.

"Soon," she purred, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

Before her paw could make contact with me, Nessy's white arm shot out, planting firmly on Candace's forehead and pushing her back down.

"Nope," Nessy declared firmly.

“I will return in greater numbers,” Candace threatened, giggling. “Tun tun tun tuunnnn tun tun.” She hummed the theme from Jaws. Her silver tail moved across the edge of the bed like a shark fin.

Kristi leapt from the bed and grabbed the twitching silver tail. Candace let out a melodramatic yelp as the raptor yanked her upright by her tail.

"That's quite enough out of you," Kristi growled, dragging Candace across the room despite the theatrical fox noises she was making.

"Ahhh! This is tail-napping!" Candace cried out, making no actual effort to escape as Kristi rummaged through the closet. “Release me! I have important Alec-teasing business to attend to!”

"First. Put. This. On." Kristi pulled out her Ferguson High sweater and forcefully tugged it over Candace's head, wrestling the fox's arms through the sleeves while Candace made it seem like she was enjoying every second of the raptorhandling.

"Ooh, forceful!" Candace purred, her tail swishing provocatively. "I like it when you take charge, bird-bae."

"Slayer, why are you like this?”

“Like watttt?”

“It's not nice to paw people without permission," Kristi scolded as she yanked the sweater down over Candace's chest.

"Is that so?" Candace asked innocently, her gray eyes wide. "I had no idea! No one ever taught me proper human-pawing etiquette! I’m just a poor clueless princess who ran away from home and was raised by wild bikers in the… wild."

“You literally left school four months ago,” Krysanthea pointed out. 

“Four gruelling, terrible months during which I forgot how to behave in high society!” Candace declared. “Blame Captain Adler! Her excessive dumbness is clearly contagious!”

“You’re lucky my arms are paralyzed!” Addie commented. “Or I’d give you a smack on the noggin.”

“Ah, ah! Now I remember. She knocked all the social rules outta me with noggin’ smacks!” The moment Kristi released her, Candace darted back to the bed, now wearing Kristi's Ferguson High sweater, which left her long, toned legs entirely bare. 

She plunked down on the bed next to me and Nessy.

"Nessy," Candace said sweetly, batting her eyelashes at the husky. "May I have your permission to paw our Alpha? Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

Nessy blinked, clearly caught off guard by being consulted. "I—what? That's not for me to—"

"See! She's not saying no!" Candace declared triumphantly, immediately draping herself across my lap.

"That's not what I meant!" Nessy protested, her ears flattening.

“Oh? Whatever do you mean then? Do you want to paw at him together? We can take turns,” Candace grinned cheekily. “I can show you alllllll sorts of man-pawing… techniques.”

“Wh-what t-techniques?” Nessy sputtered.

“Come on babes, I know that you pine for some premium pawage,” Candace encouraged. “You don't gotta hold back on my account, you know.”

Nessy looked like she wanted to melt through the floor.

"Okay, that's enough fox shenanigans," I said, finally finding my voice and gently but firmly pushing Candace off my lap. She tumbled onto the bed with a dramatic yelp, tail swishing as she rolled into a lounging position. 

"Spoilsport," she pouted, but there was no real disappointment in her voice.

“Why are you so hyper?” Kristi demanded.

"I'm not hyper, I'm full of vigor after the mana wine last night!”

“I drank way more than you and you don't see me fluttering around like a hurricane,” Adelle commented.

“I'm just excited ‘cus my newest Dagaz binding is working even better than expected,” Candace explained. 

“Better in what way?” Kristi wondered.

“We can all share mana now as long as we're touching!” Candace revealed.

"That sounds suspiciously like an excuse to paw at people," Adelle commented as she finally managed to get feeling back into her magic-paralyzed arms, flexing her claws. "Aha! Freedom! You're so dead, fox!"

Candace squealed, darting behind Kristi for protection. "Help! This wild cheetah is going to bonk me!"

"Not my problem," Kristi said, stepping aside with a smirk.

"Aleeeeec! Save me!" Candace pleaded, diving behind me and using my body as a shield.

"You brought this on yourself," I laughed.

Candace gasped in mock betrayal. "After all we've been through together! The pack bond means nothing to you?!"

"It means I get to enjoy watching you get your comeuppance," I replied with a grin.

"Nessy will protect me! Right, doggo?" Candace looked hopefully at the husky.

"Hmm, I think I'll sit this one out too," Nessy said, tail wagging with amusement.

Adelle pounced, tackling Candace to the floor once again.

"Pack betrayal!" Candace cried out between giggles as Adelle tickled her mercilessly. "Mutiny! Rebellion! Aha ha ha, staph, noooo, my weak spots! I'm dying!”

Determining that the fox was thoroughly distracted with cheetah roughhousing, Kristi stepped over to my side staring down at me.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Alec,” she began, claws nervously tapping against each other. “I’d like to ask you on a date.”

“What?” Nessy sputtered beside me.

“Without these two knobs getting in the way,” she added, eyeing the pair rolling on the floor.

“What, just me and you?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Hrm,” I considered her offer. “Can we bring Nessy along? Pretty sure she owes you a date with four years of interest.”

Kristi glanced at the flustered-looking husky and nodded. “Fine.”

Nessy's tail started to wag rapidly.

A knock at the door interrupted the moment. We all froze, looking at each other.

"Expecting someone?" I asked.

"Yes! That must be Goobs with the new armor I ordered last night," Candace exclaimed, somehow slipping out of Adelle's grip like a greased eel. She bounded to the door.

"Candace!" Kristi hissed. "Put some pants on!"

Too late. The fox had already flung the door open wide, greeting the startled Scrutimancer with a cheerful, "Morning, Goobs!"

Goebel Sartre stood in the doorway, several large equipment cases floating behind him in a neat row. The bloodhound's professional demeanor remained intact as he stared at the fox.

"Miss Rhinehart," he said with practiced neutrality. "I've brought the additional armor sets you ordered last night."

"Fantastic! Bring them in!" Candace stepped aside, ushering him into our den.

The Scrutimancer's round, reflective spectacles took in the scene—me and Nessy still on the bed, Kristi flashing bright violet and clutching her robe closed with a mortified expression, Adelle sprawled on the floor looking smug, and various articles of clothing scattered throughout the room.

His expression never changed, though I swore I saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

"I'll just... set these down, shall I?" he said, directing the cases to float gently to the floor.

"Thanks, dawg!" Candace chirped.

"Of course, Miss Rhinehart," he replied, tapping his anti-grav bracelet and turning to leave. "Will there be anything else?"

"Nope! We're good!" Candace declared. “Toodles, Goobles.”

She slammed the door shut as the large man departed.

"I can't believe you answered the door like that," Kristi groaned, covering her face with her hands.

“Eh, it's not like he hasn't seen my leggoids before," Candace shrugged, already slicing the boxes with her white claws and pawing through the new armor cases. "Your sweater covered all the important bits. Also, it don’t matter, ‘cus he’s a pro Scrut. Them lenses he got on—they can see right through walls!”

“Really?” Nessy asked.

“M-hhh-hmmm,” Candace nodded. "He gotta see when people conceal magitek bombs n’ guns n’ stuff. ‘Nways, who wants to try on some shiny new armor?"

The next hour was a flurry of activity as Candace helped us into our new and old gear. My armor set was already bound to me, but Candace insisted on "reinforcing" the binding, which mostly seemed to involve her running her hands over every inch of me with unnecessary thoroughness.

"This is a professional binding ritual," she insisted when I raised an eyebrow at her lingering touches.

"Uh-huh," I said skeptically. “Sure.”

"It is!" she protested, silver ears and white whiskers twitching. "Ask any Binder. Total professionalism happening right here! Also, Nessy gave me pawing permissions!”

“Of which you seem to be taking advantage,” Kristi commented.

“Give a fox a finger and she's gonna nom your entire heart!” Candace laughed. 

For Nessy, Candace procured a new, sleek, midnight blue set with white accents that nicely complemented her black and white fur. The armor was lightweight but sturdy, with rune-enhanced padding around the vital areas.

"This is designed for Bards," Candace explained as she helped Nessy into her armor. "See these runes? They'll amplify your natural Charmchain."

“Charmchain enhancing runework?” Nessy's eyes widened as she flexed her arms, feeling the weight of the armor. "This is... Pretty advanced stuff. I've never worn anything this nice."

"Only the best for my lovely packmates," Candace winked, her hands glowing silver as she began the binding process. "Hold still now."

Adelle's new armor was a striking orange-gold with black detailing, heavily reinforced around the arms and fists. "Close-up combat specialization," Candace explained. "Since you punch-broke your last set to oblivion."

"Hell yeah," Adelle grinned, examining the spiked knuckle guards with obvious approval.

For Kristi, Candace performed a re-binding of her existing armor, enhancing its magical properties and fixing the minor damage from yesterday's wyvern encounter.

"There," Candace said proudly when we were all suited up. "Now we look like a proper delving team!"

I had to admit, we did look impressive, almost like proper delvers about to head into a dungeon.

"Selfie time!" Candace declared, pulling out her phone and herding us together. "Say 'We're going to kick monster butt!'"

"We're going to kick monster butt," we echoed with varying degrees of enthusiasm as Candace snapped several pictures.

"Perfect!" she beamed, examining the results. "These are going straight to Pradstagram. #SquadGoals #NewPack #WatchOutDungeons."

My stomach growled loudly, interrupting Candace's social media moment.

"Someone's hungry," Nessy observed with a smile.

"Starving," I admitted. "Leveling up apparently builds an appetite."

"Breakfast!" Adelle said enthusiastically. "I know a place!"

37: Poached

Twenty minutes later, we were seated in a cozy café called "The Whisker's Edge," which Adelle swore had "the most epic breakfast burritos in Ferguson." 

"So," I said, after we'd ordered enough food to feed a small army, "we should probably discuss our delving strategy for today."

"Easy," Adelle said, leaning back in her chair. "We find the monsters, I punch them, they die.”

"Somehow I don't think Professor Fern will make it that straightforward," I replied dryly.

"What if we build a giant wooden badger?" Adelle suggested, looking completely serious. "Roll it up to the dungeon entrance, hide inside, and when they take it in thinking it's a gift..."

"That's... from Monty Python," I pointed out.

"Who's Monty Python?" Adelle stared at me with a blank face. "Is he a snake delver?"

I stared at her for a moment before shaking my head. "Never mind.” Adelle barked a laugh and I realized that I'd been bamboozled. “The point is, we need a real strategy."

"I have an idea," Nessy offered, her blue eyes thoughtful. "What if, instead of going straight for the treasure, we focus on thinning out the monster numbers first?"

"Exactly what I was thinking too," I nodded. "The monsters won't be working together effectively—they're students who failed the cooperation test.”

“Mhmm,” Candace nodded. “I very much doubt that they’ve learned anything since yesterday.”

“Yes. We can use their own psychology against them,” I nodded.

"Sneaky," Adelle grinned. "I like the sound of that. Tell me more.”

Our food arrived, momentarily pausing the strategy session as everyone dug in. Adelle hadn't been exaggerating about the burritos—they were enormous and delicious, stuffed with eggs, cheese, spiced meat, and what tasted like magical enhancement herbs.

"So the plan," I continued between bites, "is to divide and conquer. We'll draw out smaller groups of monsters, take them down methodically, and gradually reduce their numbers."

"Classic dungeon delving technique," Kristi nodded appreciatively. "And if we plan our route carefully, we can avoid the main group until we're ready for them."

"Exactly," I said. "We go in, we're quiet, we're methodical, and we don't get greedy."

"What if I want to punch lots of things at once? "Adelle yawned.

"Then you'll be our loud distraction when we need one," I promised, which seemed to appease her.

“I can bind a couple of the weakest ones to our control to sabotage the group from within,” Candace suggested. “They won’t know whom to trust!”

"I can reinforce mistrust with my Riffweld to turn them against each other," Nessy suggested. 

"Perfect," I nodded. "Kristi, your job will be reconnaissance. With your speed and stealth, you can scout ahead and report back without being spotted."

“You can also sneak-grab a couple of weaklings for me to bind,” Candace added.

The raptor nodded, looking pleased to have a defined role.

We finished our breakfast with more planning and the occasional bout of teasing - mostly from the direction of Candace. By the time we arrived at Ferguson High's gymnasium, I felt confident in our strategy. We were prepared, coordinated, and would hopefully be functional as a team despite having only been together for a day.

The gym looked the same as yesterday.

Professor Fern stood at the entrance, her burning eye surveying the delver teams as they arrived. When she spotted us, she raised a clawed hand in greeting.

"Ah, Captain Foster," she said as we approached. "You're looking rested and well-prepared today. Are you ready for the dungeon simulation?"

"Yes, Professor," I replied confidently. "We're ready."

Instead of directing us toward the simulation entrance as I expected, Professor Fern placed a hand on my shoulder. "A moment of your time, Mr. Foster.”

“Yes?”

“The Principal wishes to speak with you before you begin. We’ll start with your team in thirty minutes, it’ll give the ‘monsters’ more time to prepare their traps. The other teams will go a day or two after yours as none of them voiced their readiness to challenge the dungeon today."

I glanced back at my team. "I'll be right back. Just going to chat with the Principal again.”

The girls nodded at me, sitting down and pulling out their phones.

Professor Fern led me away from the gym, down a corridor toward the administrative wing of the school. 

“So, what’s this about?” I asked.

"You've made quite an impression on the school’s administration, Mr. Foster," she commented as we walked. "Not many low level humans manage to assemble a working delving team as... colorful as yours in such a short time."

"It just sort of happened," I admitted.

"Things rarely 'just happen' in the delving world," she replied cryptically. "Do keep your wits about you in the next few minutes."

Before I could ask what she meant, we arrived at Principal Kerberos's office. The door swung open to reveal the ancient mastiff seated behind his desk. Standing beside him was a pradavarian I'd never seen before.

She was a hybrid cat of some kind—exceptionally tall, absolutely stunning and immaculately groomed, with sleek silver-gray fur accented by black rosettes. She wore a tailored corporate suit l and her amber eyes fixed on me with laser-like intensity the moment I entered.

"Mr. Foster," Principal Kerberos greeted me. "Thank you for joining us. This is Agent Langalirri from the North Acadian Frontenachii Omnicorp."

Candace's words suddenly echoed in my head like a sonorous warning bell.

The prad woman extended a perfectly manicured paw. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Foster. I've heard interesting things about you."

I shook her hand, noting the firm grip and the subtle scent of expensive perfume.

"Please, have a seat, Mr. Foster." Principal Kerberos gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

As I sat down, Agent Langalirri remained standing, her tall figure imposing as she circled the room with measured steps.

"Professor Fern," she began, "I understand you've placed Mr. Foster at the top of your class rankings after only a single day of observation. That's quite... unusual, wouldn't you say?"

"I place students where their abilities indicate they belong," Professor Fern replied evenly. "Mr. Foster demonstrated exceptional leadership, strategic thinking, and team-management capabilities yesterday."

"And you stand by this assessment?" Langalirri pressed.

"Absolutely. He will make an excellent delver."

The lynx turned her amber gaze to Principal Kerberos. "And you, Principal? What is your assessment of young Mr. Foster here?"

The mastiff clasped his paws together on the desk. "I find him to be exceptional in terms of skill application and interpersonal dynamics. He formed a devoted pack literally overnight, with pradavarians who would normally never collaborate—including the most talented Binder of her grade, Miss Rhinehart."

Langalirri nodded slowly, finally turning her full attention to me. 

"Allow me to be direct," she said, leaning against the desk. "I represent my Omnicorp's Talent Acquisition Division. We specialize in identifying and recruiting individuals with… unique potential."

She reached into her jacket and produced a sleek, obsidian tablet, which she placed on the desk and slid toward me. The screen illuminated with a contract, the Frontenachii logo featured at the top—a stylized three-eyed deer skull with large antlers.

"We would like to offer you a position within our organization," she continued. "Full benefits, accelerated training program, and a starting salary of ninety-five thousand dollars per year."

I blinked, momentarily stunned by the figure. That was more money than I'd ever imagined making, especially as a teenager with no college degree.

However, if my brother had managed to teach me anything, it is that if something seemed too good to be true it was usually a firebomb trap of some sort that was going to explode on me in a horrific way.

"What's the catch?" I asked, squinting at her.

Langalirri smiled, revealing perfect white canines. "Smart boy. The 'catch,' as you put it, is a lifetime blood contract. Exclusive rights to your services, permission to monitor and test your skill to understand its functions, relocation to our new corporate headquarters, and immediate commencement upon signing."

I picked up the tablet, scanning the contract carefully. The legalese was dense, but I caught enough to raise several red flags. The location transfer clause mentioned "dimensional gates" but was deliberately vague about the final destination. The termination clause was essentially nonexistent—once a blood contract was signed, I would be theirs forever.

"Where exactly would I be working?" I asked, looking up from the tablet.

"At our new corporate office," Langalirri replied smoothly. “Near a newly discovered dungeon.”

"How far is that from Ferguson?"

"Far enough that any calls home and any visits home would be... infrequent," she admitted. "But the compensation more than makes up for such inconveniences."

“I'd like to know the specific location of the job,” I said. 

“The location is classified, I'm afraid.”

“Riiiight,” I handed the tablet back to her. "Thanks. I appreciate the offer, but I'm not interested."

Her smile didn't falter, but her eyes narrowed slightly. "Perhaps I wasn't clear about the opportunity here, Mr. Foster.”

“Oh?”

“Very well. I am prepared to offer a six-figure salary for someone with your... unique skill set."

“Which is what?” I pretended to be interested.

"One hundred and twenty thousand," she clarified when I didn't immediately respond. "Plus performance bonuses, a signing bonus of sixty thousand, and a fully furnished corporate apartment. Do I hear a yes?”

“No.” I said. 

She growled. “One hundred and fifty thousand.”

“Nah.”

I felt a mental pressure radiate away from her, an alien desire taking hold of me to fall to my knees, to obey her, to sign the contract. I dove backwards into my infinite tree self, letting the pressure wash over me like summer rain.

“One hundred and sixty thousand. My final offer today.”

“Today?” I shook my head. "Not interested.

“Hrm,” she huffed. “Not tempted by monetary compensation are we, Mr. Foster?”

“It's not about the money. I have… family here in Ferguson. I have no interest in leaving."

"Family can be relocated… after you’ve settled in," she countered.

"Not this family," I said firmly.

Langalirri's expression hardened slightly. "Mr. Foster, opportunities like this don't come along every day. Many would kill to be sitting where you are right now."

"Then offer it to them," I suggested. "I'm staying in Ferguson. I’ve a job to do here."

“A job that pays more than one hundred and sixty grand a year in local currency?” She arched an eyebrow.

“A job where everyone in town depends on me,” I said sternly. “Also, do fuck off with Charmchain please, don’t think I can’t feel what you’re doing.”

A tense silence followed as the Corpo Agent studied me, her amber eyes calculating. Finally, she sighed and retrieved the tablet.

"Very well," she said, her tone cooler now. "Should you reconsider, the offer will remain open for forty-eight hours." She turned to Principal Kerberos. "Thank you for your time, Principal. Professor… Fern."

With a nod of acknowledgment to each, she strode out of the office, her long tail swishing with barely contained irritation. Yet again, there was something wrong with her shadow, an unnervingly uncanny valley sense that it didn't match her body correctly.

Once the door closed behind her, Professor Fern let out a small chuckle. "Well done, Mr. Foster. Not many would turn down that kind of money. It would be a shame to lose a prospective delver like yourself.”

"It wasn't a good deal," I said simply. "The contract was deliberately vague about where I'd end up, and I don't think they were planning to let me come back here once I signed."

“You care for Ferguson that much?” she wondered.

“I care for my pack,” I said. “And I care for the people of this town, yes.”

“What sort of a job are you involved in that ties you to Ferguson?” Principal Kerberos wondered.

“None of your business,” I told him sternly. 

“You dare to speak with me with such a disrespectful tone?” the Principal asked, his shadow wobbling and his figure stretching unnaturally.

“I do. Because, it seems to me that you did fuck all to stop a corporate Agent from using Charisma magic on a student,” I told him, staring straight at his face.

“Mr. Foster, you do realize that I could give you detention or even suspension for your disrespectful tone?”

“Go ahead,” I said, spreading my arms. “I don’t care. I'm not going to obey your punishment. Expel me and lose five of your top delving students because my pack will follow me wherever I go. You think that I have nowhere else to be or something? The only reason I’m here is because I wanted to…” I considered why I ordered Adler and Candace to go back to school. “give a couple of my new friends an environment with… more structure.”

Principal Kerberos frowned.

“Don’t invite me to any further corpo recruitment pitches. I don't care if the company offers two hundred grand or two million. I’m not going to respect a figure of Authority who does not respect his students. Next time, if I’m targeted with Charmchain in your office, I promise I will retaliate in kind. I will not come alone and my packmates will not be as polite as I'm trying to be. The collateral damage from four very angry prad girls could be extensive. It'd be a shame to mess up such a nice office.”

Principal Kerberos's eyes narrowed, his massive form seeming to expand as shadows gathered around him. The air in the office grew heavy, pressing down on my chest like a physical weight.

"You dare threaten me, boy?" he laughed. "In my own school?"

I held my ground, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "It's not a threat. It's a statement of fact. You allowed a corporate representative to use Charmchain magic on a student without any warning or protection. That's not just unethical; it's illegal."

"I allowed nothing," he countered, rising from his chair. He towered over me now, his aging mastiff appearance seeming to flicker at the edges. "I merely facilitated a meeting between a talented student and a potential employer."

"An employer who tried to mentally compel me to sign a blood contract," I shot back. "Some facilitation! How many male prad and human students have your people abducted from here using Charisma magic?”

Professor Fern shifted uncomfortably beside me, her burning eye flicking between us as the confrontation escalated.

“My people?”

“She is obviously the same sort of a thing you are.” I fired back. 

"A thing? You know nothing of how this world works, Mr. Foster," Principal Kerberos said. "Nothing of the forces at play or the powers that be. You are a child playing at being a delver. This was an opportunity to…"

"You starting to sound like a corpo agent playing at being a principal," I retorted, reaching into my pocket. My fingers closed around the high-frequency emitter I'd used against the bikers. “And I’m done with this conversation.”

I pressed the button, unleashing a high-pitched frequency that should have been agonizing to any pradavarian in the room.

The effect on Professor Fern was immediate—she winced visibly, her feathers puffing up wildly, her talons clicking against the floor in irritation.

But Principal Kerberos? He didn't so much as flinch. He stood perfectly still, watching me with those ancient eyes that suddenly seemed much deeper, much older than they should have been.

"I see," I said, releasing the button and pocketing the device. "You're not a prad at all. Candace was right then. The government IS made from cryptids!”

38: Escalation

The Principal laughed, the air around his body warping and twisting, showing flickers of a second head.

The mental pressure radiating from the man intensified, clawing at the branches of my soul, trying to do… something to my mind.

“You’re free to return to class, Mr. Foster,” the Principal added. “But you will have to meet with another Agent sooner or later.”

“No,” I fired back. “I refuse.”

The Principal frowned slightly.

There were two ways forward from this point—to submit and lower my eyes, to forget what I had learned today, to walk away, to be pressured later, possibly by an even stronger Charismancer. 

Or…

I glanced at Ignis Fern. She was an incredibly high level Pyromancer, a delver brought here by Archmage Amadeus to do a very particular job. She was a woman clearly devoted to the uplifting her students, one who cared for the Strand girls and gave a zero fucks about following administrative protocols or class schedules.

As a professional delver, the raptor woman had a weakness—she knew and hated dungeons, she knew when to listen to a human who had different senses, respected the human mindset that was entirely different from her prad instincts.

"Fern, defensive dragonfire!” I barked an order, leaping out of my chair. “He’s a Dungeon Sentinel! Identify him! Get those Elementals here, stat!”

Professor Fern reacted instantly, her delver instincts kicking in. Her left hand shot forward, eyes igniting with silver light as she cast Identify. 

Simultaneously, her right hand erupted with blinding, swirling orange-violet flames that twisted and coiled like living things, casting dancing shadows across the office.

She moved with fluid grace, positioning herself between me and the Principal in a protective stance, burned and mangled feathers sticking upright, tail protectively wrapping around my waist, ready to take off in a flash with me in tow. With a thunderclap snap of her claws, the sky and land outside of the windows warped as a thousand Elementals moved as one from wherever they were hiding.

The building shook, dust raining from the ceiling.

Ignis wasn’t a prad to fuck with. I had made the right choice.

"What is he?" I asked, my heart hammering against my ribs as her Identify spell struck the man. 

"An Omnid," Fern answered, her voice tight as we both continued backing toward the door.

"Which is what?"

"I… don't know," she admitted, the flames in her right hand intensifying. "But not pradavarian. Not human either."

Principal Kerberos—or whatever was wearing his form—smiled. It wasn't the warm, grandfatherly smile I'd seen before. This expression stretched too wide, revealing too many teeth arranged in neat rows that extended impossibly far back into his throat, his canine snout stretching out.

"How perceptive of you, Mr. Foster," he said, his voice now carrying an odd echo, as if two voices were speaking in perfect synchronization. "Most students never notice. They're too wrapped up in their own petty concerns to question the nature of authority."

"That's enough!" Professor Fern warned, the dragonfire in her hand flaring. “Make a move against us and I will tear this office apart, have the Elementals fry, chew, crush and shred you. Whatever the Abyss you are, I doubt that you’ll be able to stand up to a legion of my Elementals!”

The Principal frowned as the sky outside darkened and flashed with the light of a hundred unnatural radiant stars pointed at his position.

"What the fuck are you and do you want from the locals?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady.

"I am a local, Mr. Foster. I was born in Ferguson. And I desire nothing more than I've already stated," the Principal replied calmly, not moving from where he sat. "To educate and prepare the youth of Ferguson for the world that awaits them." His form flickered slightly, like a glitching hologram. 

"Who are you working for?" Fern asked, her burning eye narrowed with suspicion.

"I work for the Pradavarian Senate and many Omnicorps, Professor," the Principal replied. "Frontenachii Omnicorp is but one of many… organizations that value my... placement services."

"You're trafficking male students!" I accused.

The Omnid—if that's what he truly was—smiled at us. "Such crude terminology! I am simply facilitating optimal career paths. Some students are better suited for corporate service than mundane schooling."

"How many students have you abducted?" Fern demanded, the dragonfire in her hand pulsing with her anger.

“That is not your prerogative, Professor,” the Principal shook his head. “Your job is to locate talented individuals and to bring them to me.”

“My job is to protect all students under my care!” Ignis growled. “Voicecast Archmage Amadeus!”

The Omnid leaned back in his seat. "By all means, Professor. Call your Master. Bring the Dungeon Research Bureau. Bring the Pradavarian Senate itself! Who do you think appointed me to this position in the first place?"

The air beside Professor Fern ignited with silver stars. Then, with a flash of silver light, a translucent figure materialized beside her woven from silver sparks—a tall, old, distinguished raptor, wearing elaborate ceremonial robes and an eight pointed star on his chest. His eyes were sharp and intelligent, his bearing regal.

"Ignis," the apparition said. “What do you require of me this morning?”

"Archmage Amadeus," Fern said, her voice tight. "The Principal of Ferguson High is an Omnid, possibly a dungeon Sentinel who has been abducting students! I need authorization for maximum retaliation and dragonfire use in civilian location!”

The ghostly raptor's expression remained neutral as his gaze swept over the Principal, then to me, and back to Fern. He sighed—a heavy, tired sound that seemed to carry the weight of vast responsibility. “Stand down, Ignis. I’m aware of the Principal’s Omnid nature.”

“What?!” Ignis growled.

“Kerberos isn’t a dungeon Sentinel, Ignis,” Amadeus explained. “He was born in Ferguson General hospital. His father lives in Ferguson.”

The flames in Professor Fern's hand wavered, her burning eye widening with shock. "You... knew?"

"The Pradavarian Senate has been working with the Omnithornian Superstate since the 40s," Archmage Amadeus explained, his tone measured and diplomatic. "It's a complex political arrangement that ensures our… territories remain peaceful and prosperous."

“Peaceful?!" Fern's voice cracked with disbelief. "They're taking our male students!"

"A number of particularly talented male individuals are offered opportunities within Omnid corporations," the Archmage corrected. "You weren't made aware of this arrangement because you were a dedicated delver, Ignis, not a High Administrator. Your focus was meant to be on training my grandkids, not concerning yourself with the greater political landscape."

I watched as Professor Fern's fierce demeanor crumbled slightly, her flames dimming as the betrayal sank in.

“Wind back, you old coot,” she growled. “What in Slayer’s name is the Omnithornian Superstate? Why are they taking local male students?”

"The Omnithornian Superstate is an interdimensional power that has controlled significant portions of our world since 1944," Amadeus explained. "When the German Reich Führerin ordered her scientists to open gates to parallel worlds via the Black Forest dimensional dungeon beneath Riese Complex in Lower Silesia, they believed it would provide a simple national solution to deal with the growing reduction in male prads."

I watched as Fern's feathers bristled as she processed the High Administrator’s words.

"While they’ve had some success setting up prad colonies in pure-human words, unfortunately for them," Amadeus continued, "one of these worlds turned out to be Earth under the control of Omnithornia. The Omnids did not appreciate the uninvited pradavarian intrusion into their realm and retaliated swiftly. They conquered our Earth in less than a day using crystal machines that our weapons and delvers couldn't even scratch."

"And now they're here," I said, pieces clicking into place. "Collecting prad and human males instead."

The Archmage nodded, his ghostly form flickering slightly. "Since then, Omnithornian Omnicorps have been the real owners of large portions of our Earth, operating mostly in the shadows. They've been solving their own… demographic situation with our males who are compatible with Omnid females."

"Compatible?" Fern asked, her voice tight with disgust.

"Genetically and magically," Kerberos interjected, his too-wide smile returning. "My prad father was one such individual who was bound by an Omnid girl. He led a very comfortable life in one of the Omnithornian colonies before returning home to Ferguson Citadel to raise me as one of the future local Administrators."

"And the Senate just... allows this shit?" Fern demanded, glaring at the Archmage.

"It's not a matter of allowing, Ignis," Amadeus sighed. "It's a matter of survival. The alternative would be open war with immortal beings whose technology and magical capabilities far exceed our own. The current arrangement benefits both sides—they get greater genetic diversity, and we get technological advancements, leased magitek weapons, protection from greater interdimensional threats, and peace."

"Peace bought with our children!" Fern spat.

“Peace created through children, like myself,” Kerberos corrected smoothly. "No one is taken against their will. The Omnid Omnicorps simply... present the opportunity. The choice is always up to the individual prad or human."

"Bullshit," I said. "That Omnid woman was using Charmchain on me! That's not a choice—that's coercion."

"She might have gotten a bit… over the top," Kerberos shrugged. “It happens when valuable… Humans refuse to cooperate, push back as you have with absolute rejection. There is something about a human who doesn't back down against an Omnid that naturally triggers… the Omnid phase-shift and Charmchain response.”

"This is fucking insane," I said. "You're basically selling people to interdimensional beings for experiments!"

"For a better future," Kerberos corrected. "For progress. For the greater good of Prad-controlled territories under the umbrella of the Omnithornian Superstate."

"Stand down, Ignis," Amadeus commanded as the dragonfire flared in Fern's hand again. "That's an order from the Archmage of the Western Reaches. We cannot afford you causing an incident with a Senate-appointed Omnid Administrator."

Professor Fern's burning eye locked with mine, and I saw something there I hadn't expected—not just anger, but guilt. Shame. She had been brought here to identify and train talented delvers, only to discover she was essentially a talent scout for interdimensional abductions.

"Come on, Professor," I said quietly, grabbing Ignis by her hand. "We have a dungeon simulation to do. I trust you and don’t want you getting kicked out of school. We’ve been clearly outplayed, not knowing about the game that started long before we were even born.”

For a moment, I thought she might refuse and unleash her full raptor fury on Kerberos, Amadeus, and the entire administrative wing.

But then, slowly, she lowered her arm. The dragonfire winked away.

"This isn't over," she told Kerberos, her voice deadly quiet.

"It never is," the Principal replied with that too-wide smile. "Now, run along and play in your little dungeon, Professor. Mr. Foster has a delving simulation to complete, after all."

“End voicecast,” Ignis growled and the figure of Archmage Amadeus dissolved into dancing sparks.

We backed out of the office, Fern keeping herself between me and Kerberos until we were through the door. The moment it closed behind us, she pulled me quickly down the corridor, away from the administrative wing.

"Listen to me very carefully," she hissed, snapping her fingers to produce a shimmering sphere around us. "What we've just learned likely puts both of us in significant danger. Say nothing of this to anyone—not even your packmates. Not yet."

"But—"

"Not. Yet." Her grip tightened. "The walls in this school have ears, Mr. Foster. Literally. We need to be strategic about this."

"Okay," I nodded. "What's the plan?"

"For now? We proceed as normal. You complete today's simulation with your team. I continue teaching. We act as if nothing has changed." Her burning eye met mine. "But I want you to know that I was not aware of this... arrangement. I do not condone it. And I will not facilitate it."

"I believe you," I said. And I did. The fury and betrayal in her expression had been too raw, too genuine to fake.

"I brought you to that meeting because I was ordered to," she admitted. "But I didn't know what it was really about. I thought it was simply a scholarship offer or academic recognition for doing so well during the evaluation day."

"Not your fault," I assured her. “I’m still telling my packmates about this later.”

“You’re certain that…?”

“Ignis,” I addressed her by her first name. “You have a human Alpha, yes?” I made a guess based on her behaviour.

She nodded.

“Do you trust him with your entire heart?”

“I… did,” she let out. “I loved him and I pray to the Slayer that my soul will find his in another cycle after my death. He and the rest of our packmates died in a dungeon.” She reached out to touch her mask. “Only I survived the dragon’s attack. Archmage Amadeus offered me this job to keep me from taking my own life by delving into the Superstore alone.”

“Would your Alpha keep this sort of a thing from you?” I asked.

“No, he wouldn’t,” she sighed. “But your pack is only a day old, is it not? What happens if it falls apart?”