This was a dream. It had to be a dream. There was no other way any of this could be happening. There was not a wolf with human features and piercing golden eyes and sharp teeth spiriting him away to a strange, cavernous world. He was not obediently following the wolf along without a word, his eyes lowered, feeling as though he was being watched, scrutinized with every step he took.
Yet, he could still feel the ache and sting from the bite to his neck, could still feel the blood pool in the dip of his collarbone and soak into his clothing. He felt dazed, but the pain had jolted him enough that he didn’t feel quite as ready to pass out as he had before. If anything he was in denial. Because this had to be a dream and this was not real and he was already dead or dying.
He could still feel the energy swirling inside him, pushed into him once more by the wolf, assisted by someone called General-King. He still couldn't believe it that when it seemed as though the energy broke through whatever barrier was stopping it, he had indeed changed as the wolf had apparently wanted.
His hair almost dragged along the ground behind him, his clothing no longer bland and normal but navy and orange and purple and an ornate floral pattern on his sleeves.
And most importantly; he was no longer Yuuri, but Kamacite.
Kamacite didn’t say a word as he followed the wolf. There wasn’t anything else for him to do. He was still terrified, but the wolf had already told him his life was no longer his own.
And he was never ordered to run.
It was not a dream.
Yuuri - or rather, Kamacite - could continue to tell himself that it was, but Wolfeite would not allow him to live out his little fantasy. Real life was something else entirely; he did not intend to allow his newest project to run away so easily, no matter how much Kamacite would wish it.
A senshi. Kamacite was not a Lieutenant, he was a senshi. A corrupted one, but still. It had been a rude awakening, an annoyance of an otherwise perfect chance. Axinite’s assistance had not been wanted, but it had been dealt with, quickly and efficiently, at the very least.
They were no longer in the Castle. Wolfeite was leading Kamacite down the path to the Rift, his posture more relaxed than it had been earlier, tail flicking back and forth behind him, ears alert.
“Your name is Kamacite,” he said, without turning around; he knew that the other was following him without having to look. “You are a corrupted senshi of the Negaverse. You will report to me entirely, and no other general, no other senshi. You are no one’s but mine. Do you understand that?”
He would not - he would not - have anyone else interfering.
He followed silently, peering around every now and then, trying to catch a glimpse of where he was. There had been a castle-like building, but now they were heading away from there, and it felt somehow more ominous, the air heavier.
Corrupted senshi? Negaverse?
There were too many thoughts and questions swirling through his head, but he didn’t dare open his mouth. Not yet. Not until he was asked a question. He knew better than to talk out of turn, better than to question things that aren’t meant to be questioned.
“Yes, sir,” he said quietly, his heart pounding. Kamacite finally lifted his hand from where it was hanging by his side, and gently pressed it to the bite on his neck, wincing at the tenderness of it. He’d never been bitten before, not even by an animal since he tended to stay away from them. And definitely not by a wolf. And most definitely not by a human, which he still wasn’t sure what this… man-wolf was.
“How shall I address you?” he dared to ask since he’d yet to be told. He was being told so many thing at once that it was difficult to keep everything straight.
He got a few looks, as he always did, stalking through the halls until he reached the one he wanted that would lead to the Rift. Wolfeite was far used to the Negaverse by now; some looks were curious, some afraid; more still openly hostile, as though they could hardly believe a half-youma was in their ranks at all.
It didn’t matter. He was better than all of them, after all. And now he had someone to work on, work with; a protege, an underling he could mold to his own liking.
It was a tempting feeling. He wanted to keep hold of it.
The docile answer pleased him, Wolfeite turning his head just slightly, enough that he could look over his shoulder and catch the small movement of Kamacite’s hand as he pressed it to his neck. A savage rush of pleasure at the reminder of the mark he’d left had his lips drawing back in a smirk, Wolfeite looking ahead again as they neared the door to the Rift.
“General,” he said, in answer to the other’s question. “You may call me ‘sir,’ or ‘General.’ “
The Rift was, of course, Wolfeite’s home and his preferred place of rest. Vast lands of purple and black, glittering eyes of the youma that resided here. Wolfeite kept walking until he reached a thicket of spindly, shattery trees and a rocky outcropping, turning to face Kamacite as his feet slowed.
“You are free to ask questions now. I’m sure you have them.”
Everything in his being told him that he should not be in this place of purple and black and strange sounds and thick, heavy pressure bearing down on him. He should not be there, but he could not quite put his finger on why; was it just his overactive imagination, or was there a very strong possibility that this really wasn't a dream and his life really was in danger? And would probably be in even more danger were it not for the presence of the wolf with him.
General. Definitely not a very personal way to address the wolf, but Kamacite supposed he was not worth being told more than that, anyway. He would either figure it out for himself or simply suffer for it.
He couldn't stop himself from looking around, his eyes darting from one set of blinking eyes to another, feeling more on edge the more he realize this wasn't a dream and that this was actually happening. Not only that, but before he'd been absolutely certain he would have been killed in that alley. But now there was so much hinging on what the General would do with him. He could either keep him alive for whatever reason, or let the other monsters that lurked in the shadows devour him.
Kamacite jumped when the General spoke to him, giving him permission to ask questions. Yes, he had countless questions, enough to make him dizzy. He lowered his hand from his neck, not sure if he should be relieved that the blood was mostly dry, or if he should still be concerned that he'd been bitten.
Regardless, he lifted his hands to clutch at the fabric over his chest, and could immediately feel his face pale as he realized there was a sizable hole in his chest. He pulled the fabric closed all the way up to his neck to try and cover it. He was starting to feel queasy again, what with being in this strange world and the heavy pressure settling down over him, and the looks the General was giving him, and the strange clothes and hole in his chest and eyes watching him and energy pulsing through him and this most likely not being a dream and his breathing becoming erratic again and he knew the General gave him the opportunity to ask questions but all Kamacite could do was shake his head, unable to speak, barely able to breathe.
The Rift was vast, truly unbelievable when it came to its sheer size and depth. Wolfeite had spent hours, days, months here simply searching out what he could, but he doubted it could ever truly be explored fully. Like the ocean and its many secrets, the Rift expanded to insurmountable rates - but that did not mean that Wolfeite was not going to devour as many things as he could while in it.
There was no response from Kamacite. Wolfeite was watching him, gold eyes narrowing as the senshi grasped at his chest, and then it seemed as though he was finally breaking down, the expression shifting to one of outright panic, his widened eyes and parted lips showing fear, not curiosity or interest. Every movement was edged in desperation, in despair, and Wolfeite clicked his teeth together.
Silently, tail flipping behind him, he strode forward. A hand went around to the back of Kamacite’s neck, gripping tightly, fingers tangling in the long, dark strands of hair as he forced his head back to look up. His other hand covered Kamacite’s eyes, gloved fingers a makeshift mask, blocking out the vivid purple of the Rift.
Teeth scraped against Kamacite’s Adam’s apple, a warning bite, nothing more; barely a graze before Wolfeite spoke, voice a low, quiet hiss.
”Calm down. I am not going to kill you.”
Not yet, anyway.
His heart was surely going to break out of his chest. If it hadn’t been taken out already, the hole in the very forefront of his mind, making him wonder how he was even aline. And then the wolf was striding forward, Kamacite frozen in place, wondering if this was going to be it; he was finally going to be deemed worse than unworthy and would be promptly disposed of.
He dared not resist as the wolf gripped the back of his neck, his head tilted back with his neck exposed, his eyes wide and staring at the heavy colors surrounding them, waiting for his throat to be torn out or cut or --
But instead, a hand covered his eyes, blessedly blocking out the light that he didn’t realize was aiding to his panic, and the graze of teeth against his Adam’s apple nothing like the bite from before, but still very clearly taken as a warning, sending shivers down his spine as he stood there, gulping down breaths of air to try and settle himself.
He let his eyes close under the wolf’s hand, his own hands still clutching tightly to the fabric of his clothing, hating that he was so utterly pathetic. He hadn’t been killed, and the wolf even told him he wouldn’t kill him, so why couldn’t he get himself to calm down?
“S-solar flares… why does that… what does that mean?” he finally forced himself to ask, calming a little more and more the longer he remained unable to see the strange world around him. “I don’t understand -- why those… they’re not words… they’re more like -- feelings. Repeating in my -- in my heart,” he said, wishing there was a better way to describe it. Ever since he’d changed into what he was now, a little voice in the back of his head kept murmuring to him, whispering to him. They weren’t really words even, but more like an emotion, the words only forming when he opened his mouth.
He did not want to play babysitter for a variety of reasons that mostly stemmed from a severe lack of patience and an extreme desire not to have to deal with stupidity.
But this was a different situation; he had chosen this path, after all. He could have killed Yuuri instead of turning him into what he was. He could have simply taken his starseed and drained him of energy, could have left his lifeless body sitting there on the streets and walked away without a second glance.
Except he hadn’t, because Yuuri had been different. Yuuri had shown promise, and that was still there. He was still full of potential because Wolfeite did not ******** make mistakes, and he wasn’t about to start now. He hadn’t made a mistake when he’d strode into the Rift as a Lieutenant and come out a half-youma Captain instead. He hadn’t made a mistake when he’d chosen to leave behind the rest of his life for a future in the Negaverse.
There were no regrets in his life, and there would not be. He would make Yuuri - Kamacite - into something of his own making, and then they would see.
Then they would all see.
Wolfeite kept his hand over Kamacite’s eyes; the shudders were still making him tremble, but they were lessening, slightly, at least enough for the other to speak. Wolfeite slowly loosened his grasp on his hair, but kept his hand where it was, clicking sharp teeth together.
“You are Kamacite, Corrupted Senshi of Solar Flares,” he said. “An interesting sphere, no doubt.”
He was pleased by it. Wolfeite tugged at a lock of dark hair, not hard.
“What else do you feel?”
He was not built for this. He was not very athletic, he had a pretty weak constitution, was easily startled, didn’t speak up when things bothered him, didn’t go out of his way to make his life better, was horrible with social interactions, was way too shy about things; all the reasons why he could not possibly imagine why the wolf kept him alive.
Unless he planned on using him for his own gain, which Kamacite couldn’t possibly figure out what he could do to aid someone who was obviously so incredibly strong already.
“I c-can feel… that you’re very powerful,” he whispered with a shiver down his spine, causing his whole body to tremble, the compulsion to try and shrink away from this wolf incredibly strong. But Kamacite didn’t move. He couldn’t. “And I’m…”
Weak. Pathetic. Useless.
He tried drawing in another breath, trying to keep himself from panicking again. The wolf said he wouldn’t kill him. He wouldn’t kill him. He wouldn’t kill him.
And yet, even though there was no real indication that the General would have even thought it, Kamacite knew the follow up was until I don’t need you any more.
It could be at any moment. Whenever Kamacite’s usefulness ran out. Why else would he have been brought down to this place of monsters and heavy pressure and… dare he say it? Magic. He could feel the energy pulsing off the other creatures and monsters in that place, and could even remember the pulse of energy from the man with the orange hair that the wolf had taken him to. There were others. A lot of others. All varying degrees of strength, but the wolf’s was one of the strongest he could feel, crackling with raw energy.
“W-what are my orders?” he heard himself asking, probably in desperation, that urge to stay alive just a little longer even if there really wasn’t a point. “What do I need to do…?” He’d been honest when he told the wolf he would follow whatever he was told, and not just as a desperate attempt at saving his life. Although he wanted to live, too.
I can feel that you’re very powerful.
A slow, pleased smirk spread across Wolfeite’s face until it was stretched into a twisted, savage grin. The power signatures, he supposed, were what Kamacite was feeling now, and he thrilled at the knowledge that his own was as intense and strong as it was, the electricity of this knowledge chasing its way through Wolfeite’s veins like a drug.
“Very good,” he all but purred, fingers sliding almost soothingly up and down the back of Kamacite’s neck. “I am extremely powerful. I am a General. That is the highest ranking other than the General Sovereigns, of which I intend to overtake when I have reached my goals. You are not strong yet, but you will be. Not as powerful as I, but you will not fail me.”
He would not let him. Yuuri’s - Kamacite’s - weaknesses were an intense thing that Wolfeite would need to work through, but he would do it, because he knew he could do it. He knew what he was doing, he did not need anyone to tell him that. He would twist and mold Kamacite into what he wanted.
It was perfect.
Wolfeite leaned forward, teeth scraping against Kamacite’s Adam’s apple again, extremely lightly, and then he let go entirely, taking a step back as his hands fell away from the senshi’s neck and eyes, leaving him bared once more.
“You will collect starseeds and energy,” said Wolfeite. “I will teach you how. You will take the energy to Metallia. You will bring the starseeds to me. Do not break them. Do not crush them. I need all of them, and you will be better than what you are now.”
He folded arms across his chest.
“Do you understand?”
In the Name of the Moon!
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