It was the eyes.
You could tell what you faced by the eyes. The average NightBorn Vampire had dark red eyes. Lower class Thralls and Humans had black or brown eyes. Noblebloods had bright red eyes. FullBlood Vampire Lords had purple eyes. Werewolves had blue.
Lycans had gazes of pure gold.
Because of centuries of hunting and slaughter at the hands of Lycans, nearly all humans and NightBorn Vampires were sent into terrified frenzy at the sight of the feral-gold coloring.
It's what happened to Simon. As soon as the Lycan's gold eyes met his own, he let out a blood curdling scream.
All previous notions of vampire supremacy were barely even a memory.
He submitted to the intimidating will of the beast in human form and tried to run.
Most of them did.
It was chaos. A vampiric stampede of revving engines, screaming scavengers and blow-fire wind gusts.
And the wolf set it all off.
A reflection of nature in that way.
Vic looked back to Simon and then the Lycan. He blinked and the beast was gone in a golden-eyed flash.
He reappeared behind Simon with his hand bursting through the scavengers chest.
The Lycan ripped out Simon's heart and crushed it.
Before his corpse could hit the ground, the Lycan was on the move again.
He was nearly impossible to track. A blur of fury and force that seemed to be growing faster. More complex. More comfortable in the hunt.
The scavengers began climbing the black metal stairways and railings to try and get a high ground outside of the killing floor.
The Lycan was drawn to the movement. Just like with the feather.
He skirted to a halt on the crystal floors just long enough to see the vampires rising in their terror.
A few fired their blow-fire guns in a white-hot volley.
He disappeared in speed once more, reappearing beneath them as he used his claws to slash through the eight inch thick ultra-steel support beams.
The scavengers and fleeing miners screamed as the black metal walkways and stairs began to collapse.
For a moment, the Lycan remained. Head swiveling back and forth. Eyes darting around the steel avalanche.
Vic felt sick. The Lycan was tracking— perceiving, planning, thinking about who and how to kill them as they fell right into his lap.
And even then, he still gave chase. He didnt settle with his enemy coming to him. He still went on the offensive— living up to his predatory nature. His predatory legend.
The Lycan jumped into the air with so much force the floor cracked in a dozen places. He clawed and flipped up the falling debris. As he did, he ripped and tore through the falling vampires.
A man screamed as he fell. The Lycan charged with his claws outstretched, ripping through his face with a vicious snarl before throwing him aside and running up a metal beam to kebab three more on his arm a dozen feet higher up.
It went that way for seconds. Agonizing seconds of watching the Lycan ascend and brutalize the vampires. All as the steel skeleton of the castle collapsed.
When it was over, the Lycan was left in the air, covered in blood and viscera. Not even transformed.
"VIC!! NOW! PREPARE TO FIRE!"
Vic was knocked out of his state of absolute freeze and brought back to reality where all the remaining claw-drill drivers were aiming their heat-powered drills up at the Lycan as he slowly began to fall from six hundred feet up in the air.
Quickly, with shaking and sweaty hands, Vic maneuvered his near-dead vehicle to match the others.
The same way each drill-driver could spawn heat compressed shields, they could also unleash powerful blasts meant to kill the polar beasts of the north. Once for Crystal mammoths and Dire Werewolves, now for something much worse.
Vic pressed the power-up button his center consul.
All together, the tip of their massive black metal drills began to glow with the violent increase in heat.
Orbs of compressed flame and air began to spin.
The Lycan tensed as he fell.
The world tensed it felt like.
Vic only barely noticed the way the old lycan weapons on the grounds shook and began to roll around on the floor.
"FIRE!"
The Lycan seemed to understand the words— or maybe the build-up of the drills, and brought his arms and legs up to defend himself.
At the same time, energies flowed.
Lightning spun in and out of the clouds like serpents above him.
All around his body, golden, silver and green fiery light bloomed. It raced and flowed around him the same way the lightning did the clouds above.
His muscles expanded. Dense dark fur sprouted from his skin.
The Lycan was about to transform.
"FIRE!"
They all shot their compressed heat blast in unison.
Five shots from five claw-drill drivers. The peak of Boreall Frost-Eater technology— able to output temperatures of three thousand degrees Fahrenheit.
All focused on one being.
The world went orangish white from the unified blasts.
It quickly became so hot and muggy it felt like Vic was in a sauna.
He didn't get much time to process the heat as he watched the blasts of compressed fire split and collapse upon contact with the Lycan's protective energy aura.
The same aura that seemed to feed on the fire and expand.
The Lycan roared as he came crashing down to the ground like a meteor.
Pulse waves of his aura shot outward and leveled the castle and their drivers, wiping out everyone in a flashing impact.
Much like the lightning that fell with him.
Vic woke to the sound of metal tearing and vampires screaming.
There was nothing he could do but listen as the Lycan ripped off metal doors and cut through the bottom of the destroyed vehicles to reach the drivers inside.
From start to finish, he was in complete awe…. disbeleif— terror, at the sight of the beast. At its godlike arrival— it's strength and speed and the subtle realization that it was new to its body and enviroment and still decimated them.
Still a pup. Still in human form.
Vic's ten thousand pound vehicle came off the ground.
He was still dazed from the blast but he screamed as the vehicle shook until he was wiggled out of his seat belt and fell out the open door onto the crystal floor.
In a panic, he rolled over.
The Lycan stood over him, holding up the claw-drill driver with two hands. In the shadows it cast, all Vic saw was the beasts densely muscled sillouette and vibrant golden eyes.
Wolves howled in the distance, seemingly venerating the rebirth of their god reborn.
Vic felt his throat tremble, "p-please…."
The Lycan threw the vehicle aside.
"I-ill do anything!" Vic screamed, the fear and delirium of the beast was beginning to break his mind.
He moved backward at a crawl.
He moved.
He knew better.
He know how predators were attracted to movement.
The Lycan darted forward and snatched him up by the collar of his mining coat.
Suddenly he was up off the ground and agonizingly close to the beast.
Skin steaming. The vampire blood on his arms bubbled and evaporated off him, giving him a sort of crimson mist aura.
"Wh-….." His words caught in his throat. "Who…."
It was all he managed.
Who?
Who was the Lycan standing before him. He couldn't have been just any creature of the past. They wouldn't have won if he was the average. He wasn't. Vic read the stories in history like any child raised under the Blooded Empire. They were strong— fast. But only few could manipulate their beastly energies in the way the Lycan that held him was.
Vic thought back to the scavengers raving about the Lycan legends.
Like Shadow-Smear and his dark-spear.
Vic spoke again, "W-who...are you?"
Instead of answering in some booming voice to declare his name and purpose returning to a world now run by vampires, the Lycan looked….
Confused.
He blinked in thought and looked away from Vic— seemingly asking himself the same question.
"Who are you?"
In his visible confusion fear took over. And in response, instinct reawakened.
His beastly energy flow went into overdrive. He growled as his teeth lengthened into fangs and fur spread across his hulking back.
Not that Vic noticed.
He was drawn to the movement behind the Lycan.
The rubble rose and fell and shattered as things beneath rose up from the ashes of ruin.
A dark bodied spear with a gleaming silver blade. Tied by a raven feather.
The weapon of Shadow-Smear, the legendary Lycan assassin. Said to have successfully killed three NobleBlood Elders and one FullBlood Vampire lord without the help of a pack.
Another weapon rose in the lightning shower.
A WarHammer made of burned black stone.
And another.
And another.
Until the ruined grounds were topped by hovering age old weapons. Held firmly by the spiritual forms of long dead Lycan legends. Great beasts of fur, fang and scarred maw.
They all chanted
"Konan….. Konan….. Konan…."
A name that spoke nothing of his deeds or purpose.
Then again, was it needed?
The chants grew louder. The howls reached a feral crescendo. The lightning raced from the clouds.
Vic met the Konan's eyes a final time before he was ripped in half.