Janine returned to the busy city, startled by the sight of a metal minion buzzing past her on a street.

“Hold, please, mistress!” A scream stopped her paws from raising the axe. Two Normie soldiers, accompanied by a man in a dirty white suit, hurried toward her. She recognized the crying boy from the communication tower. The explosive collar was removed, and the kid held a square, unwieldy terminal in his hands. “Help! With the evacuation!” he stammered, pointing at a sizeable crate in the drone’s manipulators.

“Keon means he’s enlisted in the army and is responsible for transporting medical supplies from a clinic down the street, warlord,” a soldier said. He took off the gas mask and face protection, exposing the scarred face of a middle-aged red-headed man to the toxic air. A bullet or a dagger had pierced the man’s eye socket years ago, and the eye had sunk deep into the skull. The soldier reached for a cig and lit it.

“Your assistance is welcomed, citizen,” Janine told the kid and addressed the soldier. “If you seek to kill yourself, do it on your own damn time.”

“Artificial lungs.” The soldier slapped himself on the chest. “These beauties are keeping me alive. Although exhaling through my back tends to make the armor smell, warlord.”

“Drop smoking; problem solved. At ease,” Janine grumbled, giving her paw to the males. “What’s the situation?”

“Commander Ravager is done playing nice with the region,” said the soldier, enjoying his cigarette. “Alpha’s girls have ventured to the west; their forces are supposed to bring in the people from the outlying villages. Dragena and Ygritte’s ladies are on their way east to do the same and convince the rebels to come along.”

“Rebels?” Janine’s ears perked.

“Villagers who rebelled against the bitch… Techno-Queen, mistress…” Keon shrank in fear as the attention shifted to him.

“Name’s Janine. Warlord Janine, when it is official,” she reminded him. “Also, your metal monster is about to crash into a building,” she added, spotting a minion flying toward a wall.

“Oh, sorry, Jani.” Keon’s fingers tapped something on the terminal and the machine changed its trajectory, climbing over the wall and holding a smaller leather bag closer to its belly. The boy went white in the face after realizing what he had said, but the soldiers’ chuckles reassured him. “Some villagers took off to the mountain ranges. They tried to sneak into the Ravager Lands up north, but the Blood Court, Malformed, and…” he stopped, but Janine caught the meaning. The Reclamation Army owned a fort in the region, and the locals feared it after the Blessed Mother had skinned the slave lords ruling it alive. “They survive by secretly trading minerals for food and water in the villages…”

“How do you know it, then?” Janine asked.

“It is a badly kept secret, Janine,” Keon replied. “I think Techno-Queen allowed them to stay there to test her bigger toys’ ability to navigate in the narrow tunnels. They would sometimes bring some rebels back to the city to be drowned in a waste for everyone to see.” He swallowed and looked at her. “What will happen to them?”

“Nothing if they see reason. If not, their leaders will be culled, and the evacuation will happen either way. The commander’s order is simple: the entire younger population is to be saved, even against their will. Anything else?” she asked the soldier.

“Not much. Warlord Onyxia…” This time, it was Janine who laughed. Alpha looked down on speaking with the lower ranks, but Janine herself often ignored the Normies’ casual fraternizing disrespect after a hard-fought battle. But no one in their right mind dared to speak Onyxia’s name without due respect. She never saw the woman harm a Normie, but Onyxia’s uncanny ability to be in the most unexpected places unnerved the troopers and earned her almost divine reverence. “Yeah, very funny, Janine. Not all of us want to wake up at midnight to a snout demanding an urgent inspection, thank you very much. Anyway, the most honored warlord…” the man raised his voice, “….is busy subduing a half-empty raider base. The medical team wants as many resources as they can get.”

“Isn’t this enough?” Keon asked, directing a small convoy of flying minions carrying crates overhead. “There are prosthetics, antibiotics, artificial organs, and even immune-restoring injections! To be honest, I never even knew we had those, not until your doctor jabbed me with four syringes.”

“Our doctor, Keon,” Janine told the boy, and put a paw on his shoulder. “You are now a member of the Third. Congratulations. Don’t think that your work is unappreciated; the medics undoubtedly would’ve thrown a party to honor you and those who helped find and transport these supplies if they hadn’t been awake for sixteen to nineteen hours every day.”

“Not to sound disrespectful, but you look like shit, Janine,” said the soldier smoking a cigarette, pointing at the wet stains on her clothes.

“Well aware. Carry on, soldiers.” Janine nodded to them and left for an encampment meant to treat the ‘lightly wounded’ New Breeds.

Contrary to the name, the camp wasn’t small. Armored, all-terrain transports rammed their way past the ruined wall, flattening the remains of the bunkers. They carried what looked like thick metal boxes instead of troops and weapons compartments. Once stopped, the walls of these boxes opened akin to blossoming flowers, forming an individual field medical station, fully equipped with an operating room, cold storage, a dressing station, and a sleeping compartment.

Captain Cristobo organized this highly mobile medical force. The daring assaults led by the Wolf Tribe and other New Breeds of the Third often resulted in soldiers bleeding out in the field before their comrades could deliver them into the crawler’s confines. These mobile hospitals alleviated the situation somewhat, saving hundreds of lives, but to this day the casualties were high, as something that could threaten a Wolfkin’s life usually demanded immediate medical attention, and no Normie surgeon, power armor or not, could hope to keep up with the New Breeds at a fore.

The warlord stopped, sensing the scent of her pack. A scout from Melina’s pack barged from an entrance, and Janine stepped into her path as if by accident, knowing full well what would happen next. The woman cursed, trying to bypass the warlord, and opened her jaws in pain as a taser’s shot caught her across the back. The discharge buckled her legs, and two darts struck her nape, sending the scout sprawling face down.

“And this is how it is done,” a dark-skinned medic in a crisp white uniform explained the procedure. Green crosses on his chest and arms marked him as a noncombatant. He holstered a tranquilizer rifle and a taster and approached the downed Wolfkin alongside another medic who was pulling a stretcher beside her.

“But isn’t this disrespectful to our masters?” the female medic asked. “Shouldn’t we ask…”

“Warlord!” the scout groaned, struggling to raise a paw. “I am capable! I am ready to reunite with the pack…”

“No, no, you got it all wrong. Don’t ask, demand. Most of the time, we outrank them. The Wolfkins seek death, and it is our job to ensure their survival. It is as simple as that; some barbarians won’t know their limits no matter what,” said the male medic. Janine threw her soldier onto the stretcher, and the medic secured the scout, ignoring the warlord. “She is prescribed four weeks of rest, and by the Planet I shall see it done, even if I have to chain her to a bed inside the crawler.”

“Release me, you soothsaying meddlers!” roared the scout. “These wounds are not enough to keep me down! I ain’t this weak! I can serve!”

“Are all of them like this?” the female medic inquired.

“Oh yes. Unbearable bitches. Don’t let them walk over you. This is why you have to learn how to shoot; it’s sort of mandatory for a member of the Third, unless you want to have your patients slip away…” the doctor explained to his new colleague.

Marco stepped from another medical tent, his terminal in paw, and frowned in worry, seeing the new wounds covering his mother.

“It’s okay.” Janine shrugged. “How is your nose?”

“Eh, stopped bleeding a while ago.” Marco sniffed the air and put on his beret. “A doctor set my bones properly and gave me candy for good behavior. Sorry, got to run. Wolf Hag Anissa expects a full report from the packs assisting the logistics teams.”

“Sure thing…” She barely made a single step forward before a doctor in a white protective suit stopped her and placed a hand on her stomach. Through the transparent visor, Janine saw a sallow face with deeply sunken, tired eyes. “What do you want, Maxence?”

Janine learned, once and for all, never to insult or disrespect someone taking care of your body. The last time she tried it, the woman had first patched up her pierced heart and then given Janine medication to set her mood straight. Martyshkina had laughed her ass off, rolling in the dirt, holding her sides like a cub as she listened to the less than dignified sounds of Janine’s bowels forcibly emptying themselves and the scout’s embarrassed groans. That torture had lasted for an hour!

The Wolf Tribe had a tense relationship with the medics. The Dynast’s orders were clear: obey and listen to them in everything. Never dare to harm a medic. A Wolfkin would rather die than disobey the order of the supreme ruler. This was drilled into them by the Blessed Mother, who despised and hated any medical personnel. Such a schizophrenic relationship had brought confusion, but the Wolfkins found ways around it. Most of the medics were Normies, and even if it was banned to harm them, a Wolfkin could sneak away, pretending not to hear the medical teams’ orders.

Maxence was a medic who dared to talk back to the warlords and even the commander herself. When he thought a domination was going too far or that the Blessed Mother was about to kill another Wolfkin, this small, wizened man would step in. Lost in her fury, Ravager had even sliced off his arm at the elbow, claiming him to be just another ‘whitecoat’. Maxence replaced his lost limb and refused to change his behavior, earning himself genuine respect from the warlords.

“You are injured, Janine.” His voice was barely a whisper; he blinked three times, bracing against fatigue, and pointed at her bleeding arm. “After me.”

“This? This paper cut has already been closed by…”

“After. Me.”

Janine clenched her fangs but obeyed, following the doctor inside the metal tent. The newly formed medical institutions, funded by Commanders Devourer and Outsider, not only taught the new generations about medical science but also instilled love and care for people in their students. Janine almost found it admirable and certainly respected them for their dedication… However, the doctors were a pain in the ass to get around.

The tent’s outer part had an abraded look and even traces of enduring gunfire, but inside there was a pristine atmosphere. Mechanical systems filtered the air, the interior walls were smooth. Special rails in the floor made it easy to move heavy cabinets holding medicaments and surgical equipment. Maxence placed Janine on a gurney that creaked under her weight and secured her injured limb in an armrest. He removed her cloak and sighed at the injuries underneath.

“Not making it easy, are you, Janine?” he asked, calling two nurses to assist him. Knowing better than to argue, the warlord simply listed the extent of her damage.

A nurse brought a stool closer for Janine to rest her injured knee on, and another limb-support system held it in place. Painkillers numbed the uncomfortable sensation, and she leaned against a wall, letting the medics work. Several members of the military police were present here, hands on their stun batons and their faces unreadable behind the helmets of their combat plates. It was another invention of Captain Cristobo, who had his fill of losing valuable personnel and assigned guards to oversee the situations in his field hospitals.

Beside her, there were six Wolfkins here, five of them wounded. Four of them slept because of the sedatives. Janine smirked, seeing how a nurse washed away blood from a wounded Wolfkin’s thigh, only to discover a formed scar beneath.

The last wounded Wolfkin belonged to her own pack. Scout Elzada. A good and loyal soldier, whose dark-void fur promised a great future. Regrettably, the bull’s energy beam had severed her at the knee, and a metal insect had sliced through her armor, rupturing a lung beyond even a Wolfkin’s capability to heal. Anissa knelt beside her wounded comrade, holding her paw.

“My…” Elzada gasped for air, struggling to speak. “My decision is final. I refuse…”

Elzada screamed, squirming in agony as Anissa turned her finger into a pancake, turning the phalanges into bone powder. The nurses shouted for the guards, but Anissa waved them away, putting a paw on Elzada’s chest to calm her.

“Can’t you just order her?” Maxence asked.

“It is Elzada’s decision to make,” Janine replied. The doctor requested a set of mechanical arms and warned her of possible pain as he repositioned the bones of her misaligned knee. Despite his warnings, there was no discomfort. “And it is Anissa’s job to keep the pack alive.”

“You want her to live or what?” Anissa smiled into the face of a hesitating nurse. “Thought so. Let me work my magic. So, Elzada, about that new limb and the lung. I really think you should take them.”

“I will not be despoiled…” Elzada’s words turned into a howl as Anissa first cracked her wrist and then her elbow, twisting the arm at an unnatural angle. “Pain is nothing! Nothing! My will is iron!”

“How right you are.” Anissa’s muzzle nuzzled the wolfkin’s ear, and she whispered softly. “See, you have a beautiful son, Elzi-girl. It would be a shame if someone squashed him now that you are not around anymore, right?”

“You…” The wounded woman licked her lips. “You wouldn’t dare…”

“Banish the thought!” Anissa released her claws for Elzada to see. “But you know how our people are. On the other paw, your stubborn refusal has… upset me, to tell the truth. I might just take it out on that friend of yours. Bite her snout off or something; not really decided yet.”

“Bitch!” The scout tried to stand up, only to fall helplessly back on the gurney. “Fine! Graft metal on me and prolong my misery! Sever my connection to the Spirits forever more; just don’t hurt them!”

“Found a will to live, aint’cha? You make the pack proud.” The smile faded, and Anissa pressed her paws together in prayer. “Worry not about the Spirits’ wrath. Many people err on their life paths, but the Spirits’ love for us is eternal. They give us life, and they give us the duty to save the lives of those who can’t protect themselves. Everything else is irrelevant. Should you find yourself devoid of flesh, should microchips replace the synapses of your brain, should a blood pumper replace your heart… Your duty will sustain you. Save people; stay true to your comrades; dominate; and strive to be better. Do this, and you will never walk alone, for we all will meet once more on the other side, restored to our perfect forms. Sleep now, Elzada, and know that the Spirits’ grace is with you.”

“And one day I’ll kick your ass, Nissi.” Elzada smirked and cursed upon receiving a playful smack on the head. “You won’t hurt them…”

“Course not,” Anissa promised. “I may or may not know a few girls back in the village who owe me. Don’t worry, your boy will never forget his breakfast again.”

“I am fucking hate you stubborn freaks. We have the patient’s permission!” The nurse yelled, dragging the gurney with the wounded out of the tent. “Prepare the operating room ASAP!”

“Nicely done,” Janine said, clenching her fist to see whether the bandages around her wound were restrictive. The medical personnel around them left to treat Elzada, leaving just a few MPs to watch over the wounded. Janine snapped her fingers, commanding them to step outside and provide some privacy.

“All in a day’s work, ma’am.” Anissa bowed. She didn’t ask about the outcome of the duel. The warlord’s silence was enough for an answer.

Janine’s free arm moved in a burst of speed, grabbing her daughter by the throat before the woman could see her. Anissa clawed at the thicker limb, filling Janine with pride at such a display of bravery. The wolf hag showed restraint, refusing to attack the freshly treated parts.

“Speaking of duty.” Janine’s claw lifted the eyepatch to reveal the empty socket. “Anissa, I have put up with your antics for a long time. Spirit of Loss, be my witness; I have coddled you for far too long, and today our family has suffered a blow because of my incompetence.” Her daughter’s remaining eye widened. “Yes, mine. I am in charge. Everything that happens under my command is my fault, Anissa. Ignacy’s injury is my fault, not yours; it was my mistake that I will now rectify. You have the skills, knowledge, and speed; only your field of vision has caused the incident. Anissa, I know not if you keep this wound as a memory of your loss to that girl…”

“Not a girl,” Anissa whispered. “It was an insectoid.”

Janine let go of her daughter’s neck, trying to compute what she had just heard. Not a girl? But… why lie? For a while, Janine did not know what to say. She had always assumed that her family would always tell her the truth about everything, and nothing less. How else could she protect them when someone was dominating them in the pits or packs? Never, she had never raised a paw on her children for speaking the truth, not even when Ignacy took apart her private energy rifle and couldn’t assemble it back. It was her rule that the truth, no matter how difficult, was always welcome in her family and her pack. For the Spirits’ sake, even males could step in and give her their grievances without risking their hides being scarred.

“Explain yourself,” she asked simply, trying to sound gentle. The girl had a reason to lie; there could be no doubt about it.

“I lost my eye during field training.” Anissa sat nearby and bit her lip. “It was a stupid mistake, honest. I’ve killed dozens of drones before, but that day I was riled up about… to be honest, I don’t even remember what it was. Maybe Elzi broke my rib, or a boy rebuffed my advances. Either way, I steamed from frustration, hopping from boulder to boulder and smashing myself a path. That blasted drone had sprung from a crack, and the next thing I knew, its claw was in my eye. I refused an augment because… Well, you know. I believed myself to be pathetic for losing an eye to such a parasite. And when I thought about the disappointment on your face, I… lied,” she finished weakly.

“Are you telling me I broke the legs of the girls in your group for nothing?” Janine exploded.

Family mattered to the Wolfkins. The strong must rule, but the strong must also be smart; otherwise, they are not strong, only brutish. Thus, when some girls dominated others, their family members could show up to protect their blood kin. This sometimes led to feuds between extensive families. Although such cases were rare, mothers almost always spent time in faraway wars, and fathers were too weak to stop a rampaging teen. Nonetheless, this caused motherless cubs to grow up, carefully weighting their opinions and forming entire alliances to ensure their safety before dominating others. Janine knew much of this; her own mother had abandoned her for the crime of being misshapen.

So, upon learning what had happened to her daughter, she first forcibly brought her to a hospital. Then she visited the pits and identified the fiercest, cleverest, and cruelest of the future leaders. And she introduced them to the concept of humility, causing the rest to cringe at the cracking bones. No one dared challenge her for this.

“Wait, it was you? You are the reason our group calmed down and everyone graduated?” Anissa burst into laughter, seeing her mother’s face, and for a second, Janine had a desire to throttle the stupid girl. “When I came back to the pits, they spun a story about how they had challenged a wolf hag to a fight and gave her one hell of a beating, leaving her limping!”

“It wasn’t a fight, and this isn’t a joking matter, Anissa,” Janine tried to explain. “Abyss, take me; I intervened in a natural selection for naught! Warlords are meant to be better than this. I must find the females I hurt and apologize.”

“Elzada is one of them. So if you want, feel free to drop by after the operation. She’ll probably be seething in bile for a while, though.”

“Praise be the Spirits; I can undo some of the harm to their honor,” Janine sighed in relief. She wasn’t angry because of the lie. Why should she be? As a warlord, it is one of her duties to lead the tribe during a war. If her own daughter could mislead her, it meant that Janine still had a long way to go. “What I did was wrong. I gave in to fear; I didn’t trust in your ability to stand up for yourself, and for this, I am eternally sorry.”

“For what?” Anissa hugged her. “What girl doesn’t like to be protected by her mom?”

“Is that so? Regardless, I couldn’t behave otherwise. Not after what had happened to your sister.” They both fell silent, remembering the lost friends. Finally, Janine sighed. “It was good to talk like a family.”

“Should do it more often,” Anissa agreed. “There are a lot of little things I ought to tell you about. My first boy, my first kiss, my first ice cream cone…”

“The what? Is that some slang for one of the Ice Boys? Wait, Ani, you didn’t mean their...”

“No! See?” Her daughter beamed. “I know things you didn’t even hear about! After the reunification?”

“After the reunification,” Janine promised. It was a hollow promise, as neither of them will live this long. But miracles do happen. And if they live to this glorious moment, she’ll gather her entire family, and they’ll visit one of those... what do the Normies call it? A restaurant, yes. Note to self: Learn what an ice cream cone is. “Your eye is a weakness, Anissa. And weakness must be removed or turned into strength. Get a new one.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Anissa straightened up and then took herself by the chin. “Chak ought to have access to some advanced models.” Her eye flashed. “Perhaps I’ll even be able to access the Net through the prosthetic!”

“Chief quartermaster Chak,” Janine’s growl corrected her daughter. Chak was sensitive about his rank, and he had every reason for it. Far too many people viewed him as someone lesser due to his lineage. He deserved some well-earned respect.

“Yes, he and I are going to have dinner to…” Janine grabbed her daughter by the shoulder mid-sentence.

“Anissa. He is… The chief quartermaster is… Chak is a centipede! He is strong, yes, and under other circumstances, I would’ve approved of your choice. But… I am not sure it is even possible for you two to mate, much less to have cubs…”

“Mom, we are just having fun, that’s all.” Her daughter raised her palms, fighting back a smile. “He is not my soulmate, if you are worried about it. It’s… How can I explain it? When his coils close around you, his mandibles play a clicking song behind your ear, and his legs run down your spine… Ah, it’s truly a one-of-a-kind feeling. Any of us can die at any moment, might as well live in a moment too, right?”

Chak deserves to be butchered! That many-legged, horny son of a whore dares to touch my little girl?! I will rip his head off his none-existent shoulders and shove it into his… Janine forced herself to calm down and released her daughter. Life was weird. Anissa has a right to a private life and freedom just as much as she does.

“Sure thing. Just don’t do anything overly strange, okay? And keep studying. No matter what, your future must not be denied to you. You will become a shaman, like your sister, and that is final.” Janine leaned back against the wall. “Gather the pack after you finish helping the engineers. I have a confession to give after the doctors are done patching me up and after a talk with Ignacy. Abyss, how am I supposed to convince him to take a new arm…”

“I have a feeling that you don’t need to worry about that.” Anissa mysteriously smiled and left the room, calling the MPs back.