Successful Experiment
New Rone, SAN Laboratory, 1929
The smell of ozone and pungent chemicals filled the air inside the underground facility, isolated from the outside world. In the center of the room, Professor Albert stood with trembling hands, adjusting his thick glasses as he stared at rows of giant glass tubes lined up like a phalanx of dead soldiers. Inside the tubes, a faint green liquid glowed, enveloping the tiny bodies that had become subjects of the most ambitious and most sinful experiment in human history.
"This is the future of our military," Professor Albert murmured to his terrified assistant. "The fusion of predatory wolf cells into human DNA. We are not just creating soldiers; we are creating gods of war."
Initially, there were 50 pairs of infants—male and female—collected from nameless orphanages. However, nature rejected human compulsion. Thirty pairs of infants died in agonizing conditions; their bodies shattered due to genetic rejection. Only 20 pairs of infants survived.
Yet, their growth was irrational. Within a hundred days of the first serum injection, their cells divided at thousands of times the normal rate. The infants' bodies stretched, muscles grew prominently, and their bones creaked as they were forcibly elongated. Behind the glass of the tubes, sharp fangs began to poke through gums, and coarse, dark grey fur began to grow along their spines. They were no longer human, but they were not merely animals either.
That night, the silence in the laboratory felt oppressive. Outside the building, SAN (Special Army New Rone) soldiers stood guard with long-barreled weapons in hand. They were elite troops, yet none of them realized they were guarding the gates of hell.
Professor Albert was sitting alone at his desk, recording the final data when a subtle vibration was felt in the concrete floor. He looked up, his eyes fixed on tube number 01.
Simultaneously, forty pairs of eyes inside those tubes opened. Their pupils were vertical, glowing a golden yellow in the darkness.
"Impossible... they should still be in the dormancy stage," Professor Albert whispered in fear.
Suddenly, a thunderous sound shattered the silence. It was not the cry of a baby, but a long howl hungry for blood. The forty creatures howled in unison, a harmony of death with a frequency capable of shaking the glass and the mental state of anyone who heard it. The howl traveled through the laboratory walls, penetrated the layers of soil, and spread to every corner of the city of New Rone.
In the middle of the city, sleeping residents woke up with an instant sense of nausea and dread. Livestock lowed in panic. The atmosphere of the city instantly turned into a chilling horror.
KKRRRAKKK!
The first tube shattered. Chemical liquid spilled onto the floor. This was followed by the sound of other glass tubes breaking in succession.
"Secure the subjects! Shoot if necessary!" shouted the SAN Army commander who had just burst into the laboratory.
However, it was already too late. Giant figures over two meters tall leaped from the glass ruins. They were the first perfect Werewolves. Their movements were no longer human; they were shadows moving as fast as lightning.
One of the male Werewolves lunged at Professor Albert. The scientist didn't even have time to plead for mercy before razor-sharp claws ripped through his throat. Blood sprayed onto the piles of research documents that were now worthless.
"Fire! Keep firing!" ordered the SAN soldiers.
Large-caliber bullets rained down on the creatures' bodies, but their regeneration was too fast. Bullet wounds closed in seconds. With 20 times the strength of an ordinary human, a Werewolf was capable of tearing through a soldier's armor with a single swipe of its hand. Heads were detached, bodies were split, and screams of pain filled the room that had now turned into a slaughterhouse.
After finishing off all the guards in the laboratory, the 30-centimeter-thick steel door was smashed open from the inside. The pack emerged to the surface, into the heart of the unfortunate city of New Rone.
The sight that night became a history that would be erased from official books, but would always be remembered in the nightmares of the survivors. Under the moonlight, the Werewolves leapt from one rooftop to another. Their shadows covered the windows of the citizens' homes.
Doors were kicked in. Screams of terror broke out in every corner of the street.
"Help! What kind of creature is—"
A man's sentence was cut short as sharp claws pierced his chest from behind. Cruelly, the Werewolf reached into the victim's chest cavity and pulled out the still-beating heart, then devoured it ravenously under a flickering streetlight.
The city of New Rone was shrouded in a red mist. Blood soaked the asphalt and flowed into the drains. There was no meaningful resistance; humans were just piles of meat in the face of the weapons of war they had created themselves.
Amidst the chaos, a Werewolf with the largest body size and dark silver fur stood atop the city's clock tower. He was the Alpha. His eyes stared coldly at the destruction they had created. He let out one final roar—a command to stop the blood feast.
With one signal, the pack stopped. Orderly, they began to move out of the ruined city, running as fast as the wind toward the darkness of the vast wilderness on the outskirts of New Rone. They were no longer laboratory slaves. They were free, and they would begin to build their own order under the shadows of the human world.
That night, Project Wolf Soldier was declared a failure for humanity, but for this new race, it was the day of their grand birth.
