WEREWOLF SYSTEM

Ethan's POV

I woke to the cold press of steel against my back. My head throbbed, and my limbs felt like they'd been dipped in concrete. Blinking against the blinding white light overhead, I tried to sit up, but thick restraints pinned me down.

"Jason?" I croaked, my throat raw and dry.

A muffled groan reached me from somewhere nearby. I twisted my neck, straining against the restraints. Jason was strapped to a table like mine, his small frame trembling. Wires snaked across his body, leading to machines that blinked and hummed with an unsettling rhythm.

"Jason! Can you hear me?"

He turned his head weakly, his wide eyes locking onto mine. "Ethan… what's happening?"

"I don't know," I admitted, my voice shaking with equal parts anger and fear. "But I'll get us out of this. I promise."

The door hissed open, and a man in a pristine lab coat strode in. His dark hair was neatly combed, his expression calm yet cold. He carried a clipboard and moved with the precision of someone who saw us as nothing more than specimens.

"Good. You're awake." His voice was clipped, clinical.

"Who the hell are you?" I spat, yanking at my restraints.

He ignored my question, instead stepping closer to examine Jason. The sight of him leaning over my brother made my blood boil.

"You don't have to do this!" I shouted. "He's just a kid!"

The man glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "And you're a teenager. Both of you are anomalies—potential keys to unlocking a power humanity has only dreamed of."

"What are you talking about?" Jason's voice was barely audible, trembling with fear.

The man straightened, his cold gaze shifting between the two of us. "I'm Dr. Westbrook, the lead scientist overseeing your evaluation. You've been brought here because of what you are. You carry something extraordinary in your DNA—something we intend to study and harness."

"Evaluation?" I barked. "You mean torture!"

He raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "You'll find I have little patience for dramatics."

Dr. Westbrook's POV

Their reactions were predictable—fear, anger, defiance. Subjects this young always lacked the maturity to comprehend the significance of their abilities. Still, the potential within them was undeniable.

Subject 02—Ethan—was particularly intriguing. At sixteen, he was entering the phase where his abilities should begin manifesting, though still dormant. His younger brother, Subject 07, was far from ready. Jason's abilities wouldn't surface for years, but his DNA was just as unique. Together, they represented the future of our research.

I made a note on my clipboard, recording their physiological responses. Elevated heart rates, adrenaline spikes, and heightened cortisol levels—all standard under the circumstances.

"Let's begin," I said, gesturing to the assistant at the console.

The room buzzed to life as machinery whirred and lights pulsed. The restraints on Ethan's wrists and ankles tightened as electrodes were placed against his skin. Jason whimpered, his small frame trembling against the table.

"It's going to hurt," I said, my voice detached. "But pain is temporary. Progress is eternal."

Jason's POV

Pain shot through my body like a thousand needles piercing my skin all at once. I screamed, unable to stop the sound from ripping out of my throat. The machines around me beeped louder, faster, as though feeding off my agony.

"Stop! Stop it!" Ethan's voice was hoarse, but it sounded far away, drowned out by the electric hum coursing through me.

I tried to focus on something—anything—other than the pain. My mind latched onto memories of running through the forest with Ethan, the way he always stayed close when I was scared. But even those thoughts were fading, swallowed by the overwhelming heat spreading through my veins.

"Jason, hang on!" Ethan shouted, his voice cutting through the haze.

I wanted to tell him I was trying, but the words wouldn't come.

Ethan's POV

Watching Jason scream was worse than the pain I felt when they turned the machines on me. My body arched against the table as electricity coursed through me, every nerve alight with fire. But seeing Jason—seeing his small body writhing, his face twisted in agony—was unbearable.

"Leave him alone!" I roared, thrashing against my restraints.

Dr. Westbrook barely glanced at me, his focus on the monitors displaying our vitals. "Fascinating," he murmured. "Their resilience is remarkable, even at this stage."

"Shut up!" I spat, my voice breaking.

The room smelled like ozone and fear. I could hear Jason sobbing between gasps for air, and it broke something inside me.

Suddenly, the machines around Jason emitted a sharp, high-pitched whine. The lights on the monitors flashed erratically, and the assistants exchanged nervous glances.

"Doctor, the younger one's readings are unstable," one of them said.

Dr. Westbrook frowned, stepping closer to Jason. He studied the monitors for a moment before gesturing for them to stop. The hum of the machines died down, and Jason's body went limp.

"His abilities aren't surfacing yet," Westbrook muttered, almost to himself. "It's too early."

"Too early?" I growled. "What the hell did you think would happen? He's thirteen!"

Westbrook ignored me, turning his attention to the assistants. "We'll need to keep them here for long-term observation. Their abilities won't manifest until they're older, but the genetic markers are undeniable. Prepare their holding cells."

Holding cells. My stomach churned.

Dr. Westbrook's POV

The younger subject's condition stabilized quickly after we ceased the test. His brother, however, showed signs of heightened aggression—a promising indicator. Ethan's protective instincts toward Jason were a variable I intended to exploit later.

"Have them sedated and moved to containment," I instructed.

One of the assistants hesitated. "Doctor, if their abilities are dormant, should we continue testing? There's a risk—"

"Risk is irrelevant," I snapped. "They'll remain under observation until they're ready. And when that day comes, we'll unlock the full extent of their potential."

Jason's POV

I drifted in and out of consciousness, my body feeling like it didn't belong to me anymore. I heard voices—Ethan's angry shouts, the cold commands of the scientist, and the mechanical whir of machines powering down.

I wanted to reach for Ethan, to tell him I was scared, but my arms wouldn't move. I felt weightless, like I was floating in a void where nothing made sense.

Then I felt it—a hand on mine. It was warm, grounding me in reality.

"Jason," Ethan's voice was softer now, full of worry. "I'm here."

Tears slipped down my face as I whispered, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"For being weak."

"You're not weak," Ethan said fiercely. "You're my brother, and we're going to get out of here. I swear."

But his voice was shaky, and I could hear the fear he was trying to hide.

Ethan's POV

They rolled us into separate rooms after sedating us again. My head felt heavy, my limbs unresponsive, but I fought to stay awake. I couldn't let them take Jason away without a fight, even if I didn't have the strength to stop them.

As they wheeled me down the sterile, white hallway, I caught a glimpse of the other side of the lab through a glass window. Rows of containment pods lined the walls, each one housing someone like us—people with abilities, people who'd been taken.

Some were older, their bodies scarred from who-knows-what kind of experiments. Others looked younger, their faces pale and lifeless.

A chill ran through me. This place wasn't just a lab—it was a prison.

And now we were trapped in it.