Rise Of The New Alpha: Moonfall

"Long live valkeryn"

She turned towards the large grandiose victorian mansion, where she lives, with its patterned brown-colored brick work, intricately carved ornate singles and trims, steeply pitched roof with multiple overlapping gables. There was a small fountain with a statue of a long-haired cupid girl wielding a stretched bow and arrow on the front lawn of the large and old building. A well trimmed manicured garden of roses and tulips surrounds the main building.

She opened the gate latch of the wooden picket fence surrounding the building and walked in. She smiled as she knew what was coming.

The front door exploded outward as Jess, the huge female German shepherd, sprinted towards her like a black-and-brown-furred missile. Cate acted quickly, dropping her backpack beside her and braced her legs as the dog accelerated towards her and then leapt at Cate, knocking Cate backward to sprawl on the lawn. She laughed as the dog kept wagging its tail furiously, it's tongue flicking madly at her chin and cheeks.

"Heyy, Jessy. I see you've missed me too much for the few hours I've gone. But you must be careful not to give me a concussion someday, seeing as you've grown so big already."

It was like a tradition between Cate and her huge dog, Jess. Every day she comes back from school. There was a strong bond and connection between her and the canine that bordered on telepathic and psychological empathy.

She got up and picked up her backpack after she managed to calm the huge over-excited dog and they both walked up to the steps on the porch of the mansion that hadn't lost its charm and beauty after so many decades.

She entered through the open front door, with Jess beside her.

The interior of the large building features a curved grand staircase that dominates the entrance hall. High ceiling with intricate plaster-work on which ornate crystal chandeliers hung. The wood paneling on the walls, floors and ceilings were dark and rich and exuded a sense of opulence.

Cate couldn't shake off the feeling that the huge house always looked haunted and ominous at nights like a witch's castle.

"Cate?" Someone called out.

Footsteps were heard from up the stairs as Martha Wynter, Caitlyn's foster mom, walked down the stairs to check who the intruder was. She had earlier heard Jess, barking maniacally, pushing the front door open by rearing up on her hind legs and then sprinting outside to meet whoever it was that had just entered the gate of their estate.

She saw Cate rubbing Jess's head downstairs and her face immediately brightened.

Cate went onto hug, and she smoothed back Cate's hair.

"How was your day at school today?"

"Uneventful and the same old. Oh yeah, we'll be going for a science excursion class in Omaha tomorrow"

"Are Olivia and Jenny going along with you too?"

"Yes, mom"

"That's great. Now you go freshen up, lunch is almost ready. I prepared your favorite; BLTs on a toasted bun, grilled turkey burgers and pasta"

"My stomach is grumbling already, I can't wait" Cate squealed in excitement as she bounded up the stairs, the large dog trailing after her.

Cate opened the door to her room and almost screamed in fright.

"What are you doing in here, Alex?"

Her red-haired, troublesome foster brother, Alex, turned to scoff at her.

"Ohh please, was just checking for bugs" he said, holding his palm up and grinning like an i***t.

"What do you mean? You've messed up my room!"

"You will clean it up anyway. Just my usual round of inspection". He replied arrogantly and almost pushed Cate out of the way as he stormed out of her room.

Cate put her right hand on her forehead and groaned in frustration as she looked around her upturned and haphazard room.

Alex was like a thorn under her flesh, and he never relinquished any chance of executing mischief on Cate.

Cate dropped her backpack and fell flat on her bed, closing her eyes. Jess drew closer to her, nuzzling her nostril towards Cate's cheeks, and she responded by caressing the dog's head.

* * *

After having a long refreshing shower and lunch, Cate sat cross-legged on her bed, her laptop balanced on her knees. The dim glow of the screen illuminated her face. She had planned to spend just an hour or two preparing for tomorrow’s excursion, but the rabbit hole she’d stumbled into had devoured the evening.

The Feynman Particle Accelerator. The name alone was enough to send a thrill of excitement through her. The facility, touted as one of the most advanced in the world, was where humanity danced on the edges of understanding the universe's secrets. The website boasted stunning visuals—massive steel tubes snaking through vast underground chambers, engineers hunched over glowing consoles, and scientists beaming in front of blackboards crammed with equations she could barely comprehend.

She leaned closer, clicking through links and skimming articles. The collider's primary mission was to study subatomic particles, but there were whispers—buried deep in obscure forums and niche science blogs—of anomalies. Minor glitches in the data. Strange patterns no one could explain.

She went deeper in her research and her search results sprawled across the screen: archived news clippings, obscure blog posts, and fragmented forum discussions. One headline caught her eye: “The Rift Incident: A Science Experiment Gone Wrong?”

She clicked on the link, and her heart skipped as the article loaded. It detailed an accident that had occurred at the Feynman Particle Accelerator over fifty years ago. According to the report, a routine experiment had gone catastrophically awry. Scientists were running a high-energy collision test when, instead of the expected results, something inexplicable happened.

Eyewitness accounts described a tear—a shimmering distortion in the air, as though reality itself had fractured. Some called it a wormhole; others dismissed it as an illusion caused by the intense electromagnetic fields. But the most chilling claims came from the workers who swore they saw… shapes on the other side.

Caitlyn’s pulse quickened as she read on. Those who were there reported seeing enormous, wolf-like figures standing in the rippling void, their eyes glowing an unnatural amber. One technician, who had retired shortly after the incident, described hearing guttural growls echo through the facility even after the distortion collapsed.

There was an official explanation, of course. The Feynman team had chalked it up to a containment breach, releasing bursts of plasma and magnetic interference that created the illusion of a "rift." But buried in the comments section of the article, Caitlyn found another story entirely.

She scrolled through posts from self-proclaimed whistleblowers and amateur researchers. They claimed that the incident hadn’t just been a freak accident. The particle accelerator had briefly linked to a parallel world—one where creatures, part human and part wolf, thrived. According to one user, who claimed to have accessed leaked documents, the magnetic anomalies in the area weren’t a coincidence. The accelerator was built there because of the site’s unusual properties, properties that might have been tied to the existence of these beings.

Her breath caught as she clicked on a grainy image attached to a post. It was said to be from the night of the incident: a blurred, black-and-white shot of a towering figure with elongated limbs and sharp, gleaming eyes standing just beyond the distortion’s edge. She leaned back, her thoughts spinning. Of course, it could all be conspiracy nonsense. People loved turning scientific accidents into fantastical stories. But the more she read, the harder it was to shake the eerie feeling growing in her chest.

The clock on her screen read 2:13 a.m. She sighed, running a hand through her hair. Tomorrow, she will see the accelerator for herself. Caitlyn closed the laptop, but as she crawled into bed, the image of those glowing amber eyes stayed with her.

She kept turning uneasily in her bed until she eventually fell asleep.

* * *

--- Land of the Valkeryn ---

The huge disc of the moon hung low over the dark forest of Valkeryn, its silver light barely penetrating the dense canopy above. Ulf tightened his grip on the hilt of his blade, his golden eyes scanning the shadows around him. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and something more sinister—a warning carried on the night breeze.

He glanced back at his warriors, a group of hardened men and women clad in dark leather and steel, their sharp features tense. These were Vargheim’s best, handpicked by the king himself for the mission. They had one purpose: to find Caitlyn Wynter, the king’s lost heir, and bring her back to their realm. Failure was not an option.

"Stay close," Ulf growled, his voice low and gravelly. "The forest does not welcome us, but we must press on."

The group moved silently, their footsteps muffled by the moss-covered ground. Ulf led the way, his every sense attuned to the forest’s whispers. He knew they were being watched. The trees seemed alive, their twisted branches clawing at the sky, and the shadows between them shifted unnaturally.

A faint rustle came from the left. Ulf froze, raising a hand to halt his warriors. His sharp gaze darted to the source of the sound, but there was nothing there.

"Ambush!" one of his warriors shouted, and the forest exploded into chaos.

Figures burst from the shadows, their faces hidden by dark hoods, their weapons gleaming in the moonlight. They moved with unnatural speed, striking with precision and ferocity. Ulf roared, swinging his blade in a wide arc, the silver steel catching the light as it cleaved through the first attacker. Blood sprayed across the trees, and the hooded figure crumpled.

The forest was a blur of flashing steel, snarls, and screams. Ulf fought with the strength of ten men, his blade a deadly extension of his will. He moved like a predator, his strikes swift and decisive, cutting down anyone who dared approach. Around him, his warriors battled valiantly, but the assailants were many, too many.

"Hold the line!" Ulf bellowed, his voice echoing through the forest.

He spun, blocking a blow aimed at his side and driving his blade through another attacker. But for every enemy he felled, two more seemed to take their place. He could feel the tide turning. His warriors were being overwhelmed, their numbers dwindling in the onslaught.

A sharp pain lanced through his side, and Ulf snarled, twisting to see a blade embedded in his ribs. He struck down his assailant with a vicious swing, but the damage was done. Blood seeped through his armor, and his strength began to wane.

Another attacker lunged at him, and then another. Ulf fought them off with a feral growl, but his movements were slowing, his vision dimming. Finally, a blow landed—a heavy strike to the back of his skull. He stumbled, falling to his knees.

Around him, his warriors lay motionless, their bodies littering the forest floor. The attackers surrounded him, their weapons raised, their faces still hidden in shadow. Ulf gritted his teeth, his golden eyes blazing defiantly even as his body gave out.

"If you think this ends with me," he growled, his voice low but unwavering, "you are mistaken."

With a final surge of strength, Ulf lashed out, slashing at the nearest attacker before a blade pierced his chest. He gasped, blood bubbling on his lips, and fell forward onto the mossy ground.

The last thing he saw was the pale light of the moon breaking through the canopy, a silent witness to his fall.

He whispered to himself as blood trickled down his shoulder to form a puddle on the twig-covered forest floor.

"I have failed you this day, my king. Long live the Vargheim. Long live the kingdom of valkeryn"

His vision blurred and then, there was nothing, as his consciousness slipped away.