Lucas leaned against the window frame, the curtains obscuring his body as he watched the street below. A few doors along the road opened, weary people stepping out onto the ruined streets. Many of them sobbed, falling to the ground. Others looked around, raising their hands in the air and clasping them behind their heads in dismay.

  His gaze shifted to the open door leading to the hallway. Ian still lay there, with an arrow in his chest, unconscious. The man deserved it, to say the least, though that said a lot more about what Lucas thought of him than he liked to admit.

  Shaking his head, Lucas’s gaze then moved to the girl whose name he’d learned was Isabelle. She was dragging a suitcase across the living room as her sister, Sasha, ran behind, tossing in a variety of toys.

  “We can’t take that, Sasha,” Isabelle said, her voice one of defeat and loss.

  Lucas couldn’t blame her. She’d just lost her father, and the world had practically fallen apart. To be honest, the only thing that kept him going was the quiet hope that his mum and brother were okay.

  “I have a question,” he said. It was better to get his mind off such thoughts.

  Isabelle glanced up at him, her eyes still red and puffy. The dog sitting in the middle of the room turned to him as well.

  “What did Ian want exactly?” Lucas asked, turning back to the street. “Doesn’t look like you have much of value in this house. No offence. But I don’t get it.”

  “None taken,” Isabelle said in a sobbing voice. “Ian was one of my dad’s clients.”

  Lucas raised an eyebrow. “He was?”

  Ian was a reclusive man at the best of times, barely talking to anyone in the street. Many people had thought he was slowly going mad, and that’s why he was so mean.

  “Yes, he was,” Isabelle said as she moved over to the cupboard and began packing canned beans into a suitcase. They’d need those, though, depending on how long this thing lasted. Canned beans would probably be at the bottom of his list of things to grab first, though.

  “But why was he here? And why was he so angry? Did your dad screw him over or something?”

  She shook her head.

  “I want to bring this,” Sasha said, holding up a plastic pink elephant and hopping from one foot to another.

  Isabelle took it from her and placed it on the kitchen table, letting out a heavy breath. “My dad found, or you could say he came into the possession of, a weird gemstone. It was something people in his circle were quite eager to get their hands on.”

  “What was it? Ruby? Sapphire?” Those were the only gemstones Lucas knew off the top of his head. There were also emeralds, but his lack of knowledge of anything like that would do more to embarrass him than anything else.

  On the street below, people began picking through more rubble, lifting rocks out of the way. Were they really trying to reclaim a small part of their life when the rescue efforts had barely started?

  “No, nothing like that,” Isabelle said, drawing back his attention. “It... I don’t know how to describe it. I mean, it’s in the back room if you really want to see it.”

  Lucas shook his head. “No point.”

  She nodded, though a small glimmer of something, Lucas wasn’t sure what, left her eye. She combed a strand of brown hair behind her ear. “Well, anyway, it’s a strange thing. Black with blue vein-like crystals running across it.”

  “crystal on crystal.” He said with a self-deprecating laugh.

  She gave him a dead look, took a breath, then carried on. “Either way, he wanted that crystal, and my father refused to give it to him.” She picked up a tin of something Lucas couldn’t make out and slipped it into the suitcase.

  “I see,” he muttered. That had to be one valuable crystal. Or at least it would have been if this disaster hadn’t happened. He pinched the curtain, moving it aside a little more. Maybe Ian was counting on the world going back to normal and then selling for a quick profit. Not that things could ever return to normal.

  Below, a man held a woman by the waist as they stood sobbing. The woman held a bloodied shirt with a firetruck on it that should belong to a child. Their child. They’d lost their son in this chaos. Those creatures didn’t even spare the young.

  A growl rumbled across the room, and Lucas’s gaze snapped to the dog. It got up off the carpet and stepped forward, its gaze focused intently on Ian, who now stood in the doorway, a sword raised in shaky hands.

  “You’d better give it to me,” he demanded, his eyes red. “I want that crystal.”

  Isabelle shot in front of her sister and placed the girl behind her. “Why don’t you just go away? What’s wrong with you? Can’t you see what’s going on? Are you sick or something?”

  Ian laughed. “Listen, girl, just give me what I want. And don’t try any funny business. Your little arrows won’t work this time,” he said, waving around the one that had been in his chest a moment ago. “I’m prepared.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Then he chuckled. It sounded more nervous than anything. He’d killed a wolf or at least something like it, or else he wouldn’t have that weapon because there hadn’t been a sword by his side a moment ago. He’d summoned it.

  The growls from the German Shepherd intensified, practically rumbling in Lucas’s chest. The man’s eyes shot from the dog to him and then to Isabelle.

  “Call your dog back now! I’ll run it through; I don’t care! Call it back!”

  “It’s not my dog,” Isabelle spat.

  “Boy,” he said, turning to Lucas. A look of recognition flared in his eyes, but was gone a moment later. Lucas doubted that being neighbours would do him any favours. Ian was practically going mad.

  The German Shepherd stepped forward, growls growing, but Ian didn’t back down.

  A moment later, claws extended from the dog’s paws, and then large canines began sprouting from its mouth. It barked, causing Lucas to jump a little, gripping the curtain.

  While not scary, the dog was with him after all. It was definitely shocking to see what the animal he’d walked with all this time could turn into. He didn’t want to say a monster—it didn’t look like those Flameback wolves.

  And then, it sank in. Maybe this was its class, or at least one aspect of it.

  Ian staggered back. “You’ve got one of them? How? What? It’s... you?”

  He then sidestepped, making his way towards the stairs. But before he was out of view, he levelled a spiteful gaze at Isabelle. “I’ll be back, girl, and I’ll get what I want, trust me.”

  He then scampered off and rushed downstairs, the dog letting out a final bark and striding towards the door. It slumped down, gaze most likely lingering on Ian’s fleeing back as he left the building.

  A wave of excitement bubbled in Lucas’s chest, and he let out a sharp laugh. “I knew you had class.”

  The dog glanced at him and gave him a look, as if saying, “What does it matter?” Before turning back, and focused on the stairs.

  Lucas raised an eyebrow and shook his head. What an aloof boy.

  “Funny dog you’ve got,” Isabelle said.

  He shot her a look. “He’s not mine.”

  She frowned at that, but stepped away from Sasha, turned and dropped to her knee. Her hands brushed across her sister’s face as she combed the girl’s hair behind her ear. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Sasha beamed, “but can we bring that?” The little girl pointed to the elephant still resting on the counter.

  Lucas’s gaze shifted from the pair, catching briefly on a slingshot that sat by the window. Several metal beads littered the floor next to it. Perhaps it was another one of Sasha’s toys.

  Outside, various people looked towards the house. Many of them pointed towards the building. Panicking, others spun and rushed back inside. It made sense—a dog bark, at least now, was probably synonymous with those wolves.

  The German Shepherd—he really needed to give it a better name—was going to have some problems in the future. He brought a hand to his mouth. The situation probably wouldn’t get any better, and a few of the angrier people below seemed as if they wanted to do something. Their fear had abated and was now turning to anger.

  “We should probably go,” Lucas said, turning back to her. “I think we have some explaining to do before we leave.”

  “All right,” Isabelle said, picking up a pile of clothes and shoving them into the suitcase. “Go grab your things,” she said, pointing to her sister.

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  “All right, thanks again. Be safe now, and I’ll see if I can get any word out,” Lucas said, giving a last wave to Daryl—one of the many people who had come out of the houses along the street, and apparently a shop owner. A kebab shop at that, though the man didn’t exactly seem distraught at the loss of his business.

  As he stepped away, Daryl gave one last glance to Lucas’s dog before turning and moving back to the crowd of gathering survivors. A few people poked their heads out the window, having watched the interaction. Dogs were going to have a tough time in the future, even if they were man’s best friends.

  The Flameback wolves were not doing much for the animals' PR.

  Lucas then turned to find Sasha standing by a car, suitcase at her side, next to Isabelle, who had the largest suitcase on her right.

  “Everything okay?” Isabelle called, her gaze moving past Lucas to the crowd, who moved about, trying to get their lives together. Surely she’d known some of those people. Her dad had been a collector of sorts, and from the looks of it, she lived on this street.

  Were they not her neighbours? Could she not stay with them?

  “Everything’s all good,” Lucas said, scratching at his head and throwing a glance back. “They said they were just concerned, is all, and asked if I was sure the dog wouldn’t mutate.”

  “The dog?” Isabelle raised a brow. “Aren’t you going to give it a name?” she said, sounding more like she was telling than asking.

  “Don’t know,” Lucas said, shrugging. He glanced at the dog, who looked up at him. “Do you have a name?”

  The dog nodded.

  Sasha let out a cheerful scream, looking from the dog to Isabelle. “It understands him! Did you see that?”

  “Yes,” Isabelle said, elongating the word. Her gaze moved to Lucas as if questioning what was going on.

  He shrugged. “He’s just smart like that.” His gaze then moved to the end of the street. “Anyway, let’s get going. If we’re lucky, maybe he knows how to write his name for us.”

  The four of them moved down the street, taking in the destruction and horror around them as they walked.

  “What could have caused this?” Isabelle said from the side, her hand tightening into a fist. “I don’t get it.”

  “Didn’t you see the message before this all began?” Lucas asked. “Something about the convergence of five worlds.”

  “I did,” she said. “But I thought I was going crazy. I still think I am. This can’t all be real.”

  Sensing that she was probably about to spiral into a bout of denial—one that Lucas didn’t exactly feel he was prepared for—he shifted the topic.

  “How’d you get a bow, by the way?” Lucas asked. “You know, the thing you used to shoot Ian in the chest with lightning?”

  “I know what a bow is,” she said with some melancholy. She then let out a sigh, glancing at her sister. “I got worried earlier when Dad didn’t come back. When I’m worried, I need to do something. It was stupid. But I looked out the window, and there it was.”

  “What?”

  “It was a crow, flapping and cawing. It was so annoying and so angry, and I blamed it.”

  Lucas raised an eyebrow. Was it the same bird that had been tormenting him?

  “I see. And you killed it?”

  “Yeah, with my—” She paused, patting down her pockets, then let out a sigh. “Another thing gone, I guess.”

  “What?”

  “I had a slingshot. It’s what I used to take it down. And then a screen popped up saying, ‘Congratulations, you’ve killed a Flame Crow.’” She huffed. “Funny that. So easy to take down, while the wolves just slaughtered everyone.”

  Lucas’s gaze narrowed. Was it really as easy as that to take down? One metal ball to the body, and the thing would drop.

  “You’ve got quite the arm on you then,” he said, letting out a small laugh. A car door slammed shut as a man gripped his child in his arms and rushed into a nearby building. Lucas paused. “I don’t know if I’ve said this already, Isabelle, but I am sorry for your loss.”

  “Me too,” she muttered.

  He blinked. Then his footsteps continued along the pavement, and he sighed. “But it’s pretty amazing, though, that you hit something flying that high.”

  “What do you mean? It wasn’t high.” She frowned, with some confusion colouring her features.