With a soft whoosh, the doors to the training room slid open, and North, a tall, well-built male Chupa with sleek purple fur and vibrant green hair, stepped inside. His sharp, light blue eyes scanned the arena as he strode toward the center floor.

Right behind him, another figure entered: his twin sister, South. They shared similar features, except her fur had a slightly lighter orchid hue, and she sported shorter green hair. Her expression was sharp and calculating, as if she were already analyzing the situation before a word was even spoken.

The bright overhead lights cast long shadows across the arena. This wasn't just any training session; this was something special. The project's head honcho had summoned the twins here, though the reason remained frustratingly vague. South had pressed for details, her curiosity getting the better of her, but the Director, ever the cunning bastard, had merely given a knowing smirk before dismissing her.

Now, standing in the center of the arena, she had a feeling they were about to find out exactly what kind of "special training" this would be.

High above, in a dimly lit observation room overlooking the entire arena, a figure emerged from the shadows. The Director stood with his usual air of control, his silhouette stark against the railing as he surveyed the scene below. The faint, cold light of the room reflected off his glasses, obscuring his eyes and adding an eerie, unreadable glint to his expression.

His stance was rigid yet composed, hands clasped behind his back, a posture the twins had come to recognize all too well; this was the look of a man deep in the throes of scheming. A small red light flickered to life near the speakers around the room, followed by a brief burst of static. Then, the Director's smooth, deliberate voice and laced with that ever-present Southern drawl, resonated through the arena.

"North. South. Glad you could make it."

The Director's voice carried easily across the training hall, calm and slow like syrup, laced with an unmistakable hint of amusement. He stood with his arms crossed high above on the observation platform, eyes hidden beneath the glare of the glasses, but the smirk in his tone gave away more than any expression could.

"I mentioned a little something about a training exercise," he drawled, dragging the words out with deliberate weight. "Today's the day."

North lifted his gaze toward the platform again, his brow furrowing ever so slightly. He stood tall beside his sister, posture relaxed but alert, and didn't hesitate to speak up.

"And what exactly does that entail, sir?" he asked, voice even, but carrying a quiet boldness that was becoming a trademark. There was a pause, just long enough to draw tension tight between them, before the Director let out a low, rumbling chuckle. It echoed faintly in the space below, like the calm before the storm. Even without seeing his face, North could picture the look of amusement stretching across it, carved in confidence.

"This will test your agility. And more importantly," the Director's voice dipped lower, the humor fading to something colder, more calculated, "your ability to stay sharp under pressure."

He remained motionless, his silhouette barely shifting, a statue casting an ominous shadow over the floor below. When he spoke again, there was a change in his tone: something leaner, meaner, predatory.

"This ain't just about dodging punches or showing off reflexes," he said, smooth as ever. "This is about adaptation. Survival. Out there in the field, hesitation is a luxury you don't get. One wrong move, and it's not just your life on the line."

He paused again, letting the words settle like a weight on their shoulders.

"So we're gonna break that habit," he finished. "Right here. Right now."

North and South exchanged a glance, adrenaline already beginning to stir in their veins. Whatever this exercise was, it had their attention. Among the top in the Freelancer ranks. South was a powerhouse in close combat, and North? A sharpshooter with reflexes fine-tuned to the millisecond.

But this sounded like it was tailor-made to push them beyond even that.

Still, as North turned his gaze back up toward the platform, a single question gnawed at him. He couldn't let it go yet. Before any drills, before the adrenaline surged any higher, he had to know.

There was more to this than met the eye. And something about the Director's tone made it clear: this wasn't just training. "Who will we be partnered with for this training?" North asked, shifting his weight slightly, his tail flicking in a steady rhythm of anticipation.

The Director remained silent for a moment, letting the question hang. North could almost hear the faintest edge of a smile in the pause. Before an answer came, the heavy metal doors at the far end of the arena groaned open, the sound deep and deliberate, reverberating through the space.

Both twins turned instinctively toward the noise, muscles coiling in readiness for whatever or whoever was coming. "Ah, right on time." The Director's voice hummed through the speakers once more, dripping with satisfaction.

The doors shut behind the newcomer with a resounding thud, sealing her presence into the room. A figure stepped forward, her movements confident yet measured, the sound of her footsteps against the polished floor echoing faintly.

North's eyes widened slightly, recognition hitting him before he could even think to speak. The white-furred Chupa strode in, her long brown hair tied back into a neat braided ponytail that swayed subtly with each step. The blue of her eyes was as sharp and striking as ever, cutting through the sterile glow of the overhead lights.

Selena.

How could they not recognize her? She wasn't just another name on the roster. She was family in all the ways that mattered. Their best friend from a lifetime ago, the one who had stood beside them through the chaos and joy of childhood mischief, the one who shared whispers of secrets and dreams that no one else could ever touch. The Three Chupateers, they had called themselves back then, bound by promises that now felt like echoes from another world.

Her steps faltered as she came to a stop, tension radiating off her in waves. The look on her face was a mixture of shock and something unreadable, her striking blue eyes widening as they landed on the twins.

"North? South?" Her voice was quiet, hesitant.

North exhaled sharply, his brows knitting together as he struggled to process what he was seeing.

"Selena..." he muttered. "I didn't know..." He paused, taking in her stance, her guarded expression. "I didn't know it'd be you we'd be sparring with."

South, standing just slightly behind her brother, crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, her expression betraying neither surprise nor relief. "Well, this just got interesting," she said, a faint edge of humor in her voice.

The speakers crackled to life again, cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Let's get started," the Director's voice commanded, all traces of amusement gone now, replaced by an authority that couldn't be ignored. "Take your positions."

Selena's gaze flicked back to the twins, her expression hardening as if she'd made some kind of internal decision. Whatever this exercise was, she wasn't going to back down.

Neither would they.

North stole one last glance at Selena, eyes searching hers. There was an unspoken agreement between them, a silent promise: they wouldn't go all out on each other, not yet.

She held his gaze and gave him the slightest nod.

Beside him, South shifted her weight, her arms dropping to her sides as she stepped forward with purpose. Her sharp gaze flicked toward Selena, her expression unreadable but not unfeeling. "Guess it's like old times, huh?" South said, her tone casual, but there was a razor-thin edge to her words.

Selena didn't respond immediately. Instead, she turned on her heel and began walking to her side of the circular arena, her tail swaying with each step. North and South followed suit, their footsteps quiet against the polished floor, barely audible over the faint, growing hum of energy that seemed to charge the very air around them.

As the three took their positions, the reality of the situation began to sink in.

North's gaze lingered on Selena as she turned to face them. He studied her form, the set of her shoulders, the rhythm of her breathing, and any telltale signs of hesitation. His eyes scanned downward and froze.

There, secured tightly around her neck, was a collar.

It was sleek, metallic, and inarguably out of place. A faint red light blinked on its side, pulsing with an ominous rhythm that quickened North's pulse in return. His stomach tightened as he stared at it. That wasn't standard training gear. That was control.

South noticed, too, her sharp gaze narrowing as she tilted her head slightly. "What the hell is that?" she muttered to her brother, her voice low but charged with suspicion.

Selena's eyes darted between them, but she said nothing. Her hands flexed at her sides as if preparing herself for what was to come.

North's jaw clenched, questions flooding his mind, but there was no time for answers. The Director's voice echoed through the speakers once more, cold and detached.

"Let the training session begin."

The arena crackled with energy under the intensified lights, casting elongated shadows that danced across the floor like restless spirits. As the Director's command reverberated through the vast space, the air tingled with anticipation, setting the stage for the confrontation.

North's muscles coiled with tension, his stance low and ready. Selena mirrored him, her blue eyes locked onto his with steely resolve. For a moment, time seemed to slow, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on them like gravity.

South didn't waste a second.

With a blur of motion, she darted in from the side, breaking the standoff. Her fist aimed for Selena's midsection, fast and punishing. Selena twisted, narrowly avoiding the blow, then retaliated with a spinning kick that South ducked beneath with impressive agility.

"Still quick," South muttered, smirking as she sprang back to create distance.

The clash between them was electric, kinetic energy building with every strike and dodge. North joined the fray, striking high while South swept low. Selena, caught between the twin assaults, was forced to split her attention, parrying North's elbow while backflipping over South's sweeping leg in a graceful arc. She landed with a slide and pivoted on her heel, narrowly avoiding a follow-up strike from South.

Selena's collar blinked again. North couldn't unsee it. It pulsed in time with her breathing, an ominous reminder that something else was at play.

The fight went on for several grueling minutes, momentum shifting like the tide. At one point, Selena caught North's wrist and spun him forward, but he twisted in the air and landed behind her, locking her in a temporary choke hold, not to harm, but to ask.

"What's with the collar, Selena?" he whispered, his voice barely audible beneath.

Selena's breath hitched, but only slightly. Her eyes met his from over her shoulder. "I'll explain later," she said quietly, her voice calm despite the fire in her limbs. "Focus on the fight for now."

North released her without hesitation. That simple answer of those three words was enough for him. For now.

As Selena slipped from his grip, South darted in again, her movement like a blur, only to be intercepted by a sharp defensive block. The twins moved in tandem now, their years of training and sibling intuition making them a formidable pair.

Selena, however, adapted quickly. Each step she took countered their synergy with perfect timing, around their coordinated strikes. Her agility was sharper than either remembered.

From his perch above, the Director's fingers steepled beneath his chin. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes gleamed with something almost predatory.

"Yes," he murmured to himself. "Let's see how far they'll go before they realize what this exercise is really about." Because this wasn't just a test of strength, coordination, or combat skill.

It was a test of trust.

Of choice.

And sooner or later, the real trial would begin.

The Director, reveling in his role as the puppet master, retrieved a small, shiny object from the depths of his pocket. His devious grin widening, he contemplated raising the stakes of the already intense encounter.

With a theatrical flair, he decided to push the twins to their limits, unveiling an enigmatic tool that promised to escalate the situation. A subtle glint of malevolence danced in his eyes.

In response to the Director's actions, the spacious arena was bathed in an eerie silence, a canvas awaiting the brushstroke of impending chaos.

Then it came.

A shrill pattern of high-pitched whistles, piercing and unnatural, sliced through the atmosphere.

The moment the note hit Selena's ears, whatever control she had a moment ago vanished like vapor in a storm. Her muscles locked, her posture rigid, then suddenly, she dropped to her hands and knees with a thud that echoed across the arena. Her claws raked into the reinforced floor with a sickening screech, gouging into the steel-like panels as tremors rippled down her arms and back.

"Selena...?" North's voice cracked, confusion and horror etched across his face.

South instinctively stepped in front of him, her eyes wide, her hands partially raised in hesitation. "What the hell is happening to her?!"

Selena's breath came in ragged gasps, each exhale sounding less like a person and more like a beast waking up. Her tail fluffed to twice its size. Her back arched, fur bristling as it seemed to grow no, shift along her spine in quick pulses. Her shoulders expanded with unnatural bulk, muscles stretching and twisting in ways that defied natural anatomy. Her fingers lengthened into clawed digits, her jaw trembled as sharp fangs pressed against her lips, barely contained.

The growl that erupted from her throat was no longer familiar. It was low, guttural, and feral even to the twins who had known her since infancy.

South swallowed hard. "Fuck. She's not... in control, is she?"

"No," North said softly, his fists tightening at his sides. "She's a werewolf like York and Cali. They're forcing her into this."

The Director's voice, smug and resonant, poured from the speakers once more.

"Ah, fascinating. The trigger was a successful transformation for Subject PSI008. Let's see how she performs under pressure." Selena's head snapped up, her eyes now glowing a bright yellow. There was no recognition in them, only instinct, pain, and rage.

She pounced.

The twins barely had time to react as the transformed Selena charged like a beast unleashed. North shoved South aside just in time to avoid her clawed swipe.

"Damn it, she's fast!" South called out as she rolled and pivoted, trying to keep her distance.

"She's not just fast, she's enhanced," North hissed, backpedaling quickly.

Selena snarled, pacing like a predator, every motion radiating barely-contained chaos. She dashed again, this time at South, forcing her into a defensive stance. South dodged, but not without effort. Her eyes flicked to North. "Any bright ideas, brother?!"

North's mind raced.

"Selena," he tried again, breathless. "You're stronger than this. I know you're in there. You have to fight it!"

There was a flicker of a moment of hesitation in her movement, the smallest twitch.

"Hesitation. Unacceptable."

The collar around her neck surged with power, sending a jolt of pain ripping through her nerves. Selena let out a strangled growl, her back arching as her body convulsed.

Selena's fingers tore at the collar, her claws digging into her fur and skin in her frenzied attempt to rip it off her neck. The smell of singed fur filled the air. Every time she managed to wedge a claw under it, a jolt of electricity surged through her, causing her body to seize. She screamed again, her howl echoing through the arena.

Selena gritted her teeth, her elongated canines bared in defiance. For a fleeting moment, she was still aware, still fighting against the monster clawing at the edges of her mind.

Then the second shock hit.

Her vision blurred. Her pulse thundered. The pain was unbearable, forcing her instincts to take over in a desperate bid for relief. The moment she gave in, the moment she let the growl rip from her throat, the pain stopped.

Her consciousness flickered and then faded away, like a curtain descending on a stage.

The growl that followed wasn't hers anymore as it once again became ferocious.

Selena's limbs uncoiled with eerie precision. Her head rose slowly, her pupils narrowed to slits. Her lips peeled back into a cruel snarl, razor-sharp teeth bared, and this time, there was no flicker of hesitation in her eyes.

Only hunger. The urge to kill.

"Her movements are predictable when she's locked onto one of us," North muttered to himself, eyes narrowing. Then louder: "South! Tag team!"

South, mid-roll, hissed through her teeth. "Define that right now!"

"Bait and trap," he called, going into a wider stance. "You draw her in, I'll flank her. We trade places, keep her spinning until she burns herself out."

"Oh sure. It's like a fucking bullfight," South said with a grim smirk. "Except the bull has sharp claws, teeth, and a personal taser strapped to her neck," she quipped with her familiar biting, sarcastic tone.

"Exactly. Keep your dodges tight, force her into the middle. I'll take care of the rest."

Selena roared, a guttural, monstrous sound that echoed in the training chamber and sent a chill down both their spines. She lunged again, but this time, South pivoted hard. Not away but in a wide arc, leading the werewolf straight through the center of the arena.

"Hey, ya big ugly mutant fluffball," South goaded between ragged breaths. "You want me? Work for it!"

South's taunts echoed through the arena, each word only stoking the flames of Selena's fury.

The werewolf's massive form thundered after her, massive paws skittering across the reinforced floor, muscles bunching beneath her matted fur.

South darted nimbly just out of reach, always evading Selena's grasp and preventing her from gaining any solid footing. North moved silently, shadowing the chaos, his eyes reading the twitch of Selena's shoulders, the drop of her hips before she attacked.

Predictable, but no less deadly, he thought grimly.

He steadied his breathing, counted down in his head... three... two...one...!

While Selena charged for South, North slammed into her exposed flank, driving his shoulder low into her ribs. The blow staggered her, but she twisted like a whip, swiping with a clawed hand that North narrowly avoided.

That was close, way too close.

"Again!" he called out.

South grunted in acknowledgment, leading the werewolf into another wild, looping charge. The way they moved was like a dance, bait, flank, and withdraw, each step calculated, but the strain was beginning to show. South's breaths came sharper, her dodges getting narrower.

Selena's rampage simmered hotter by the second. Her movements grew less predictable, more feral.

Instinct is replacing pattern. North realized. It won't be long before she stops falling for this.

South juked left but not fast enough. Selena's claw raked the air, snagging her upper arm and tearing into the skin beneath her fur.

"Ah! Shit!" South gasped, staggering back.

"South, fall back if needed!" North called out to her.

"Fuck that shit!" she growled placing a hand over her now bleeding arm. "Like hell I am letting you do this alone."

Selena seized this opportunity. In a blur of unnatural speed, she pivoted from South and hurled herself towards North. He only had time to plant his feet before the full, snarling force of her massive werewolf body collided with him. They crashed onto the ground with a bone-jarring impact.

North grunted, instinctively trying to push her off, but the sheer weight and feral strength behind her were overwhelming. He twisted, struggled, but it was like trying to move a boulder. One of her clawed hands gripped his wrists, forcing them into the cold, hard ground, pinning him down with a savage, unrelenting strength that made his muscles burn with the effort to resist.

"Selena..." he choked out, not with fear, but with desperate hope.

His heart pounded in his chest, part of his mind screaming at him to fight or flee, but neither was possible. His breath came in short, sharp gasps as he stared up at her, the beast's snarling face inches from his own. Her growls ripped through the air, rattling his bones, a sound so raw and powerful it froze him for a half-second with sheer terror.

Selena's free hand rose slowly, claws gleaming wickedly in the light, poised to slash straight across his exposed jugular. North's eyes widened, and for a split second, his entire world narrowed to the deadly arc of her arm. His body tensed, ready to roll, duck, do anything, but pinned as he was, he knew it would be hopeless.

"...Selena, please..." He locked eyes with her, his voice low and rough as he forced the words past his dry throat, holding onto the hope that a part of her resisted harm.

Still, even trapped, North's mind raced. This was Selena. Somewhere behind the monster's fury were the memories, the trust, the friendship.

South, with a feral yell, dove into the fray."Get away from my brother, you bitch!"

Without hesitation, she seized Selena's tail and yanked with every ounce of strength she had. The force of it made her heels slide against the smooth training room floor, her arms screaming in protest, but she held on with all the might she could muster.

Selena let out a savage snarl of pain. In a swift movement, she spun around, muscles rippling under her monstrous form as she turned on her new attacker. But South was ready. She reeled back and drove a fist hard into Selena's muzzle, striking her nose with brutal precision.

The werewolf staggered backwards, momentarily dazed, snarling in confusion and pain.

North didn't waste the opening. With his arms finally free, he rolled away and scrambled back to safety.

South reached out and helped haul him to his feet. "You good?!"

"Yeah, still breathing. Thanks, South."

"No time for that right now," she barked, ducking another swipe. "We gotta finish this before we get our asses murdered!"

"She's not holding back," North muttered.

"No shit Sherlock," South replied, eyes locked on the towering, snarling figure before them. "We gotta work together. Like what we learned back in basic training."

Selena growled, hackles raised. Her bloodied muzzle twitched as she sized them up again, fury simmering behind glowing eyes.

"Go low," South whispered. "I'll draw her attention again."

Without waiting for a response, she charged at Selena again, zig-zagging as she went, throwing her hands up and shouting. "Over here, fuzzy!"

Selena attacked. South ducked under it and threw a hard knee into the creature's ribs. It barely made her flinch, but it gave North the opening he needed.

He surged in from behind, ducking low as planned. With all his strength, he tackled Selena's legs, sweeping them out from under her just as South jumped and slammed a foot into her chest. The combined force toppled the monster backward.

She crashed to the ground with a thunderous thud, the wind knocked from her lungs. But she was already trying to recover as she tried to push herself back up.

"Now, North!" South shouted.

Together, the twins leapt on her, North grabbing her arms and locking them behind her back while South mounted her upper body, driving her knee between Selena's shoulder blades to keep her down.

The beast snarled and bucked wildly, nearly lifting both twins off the ground, and throwing them off, but within a few moments, her movements began to slow in her weakened state. The growls faded to grunts, then whimpers. Her body sagged, massive limbs trembling, growing weak beneath the twins' combined weight.

North kept his grip until he was sure she was out cold.

Finally, she stilled, her breathing heavy and ragged, but steady. The monstrous rage in her eyes faded as her head lolled to the side, unconscious.

The room was now eerily silent except for the sound of their heavy breathing.

"That was too close." North sighed.

South slid off her and collapsed beside her brother, wiping a brow with a shaky hand. "Holy shit...that was fucking crazy. What the hell is going on in this place?"

Up in the observation booth, high above the training floor, the Director stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his expression unreadable, watching the scene unfold.

"Well done," came his smooth, chilling voice.

North and South turned sharply toward the sound. Standing in the observation deck above, the Director still loomed like a vulture surveying its prey. His sharp suit and cold, calculating eyes gave him an air of detached authority, as if this entire ordeal had been nothing more than an experiment to him, which, of course, it was.

"Impressive teamwork," he continued, his voice amplified by the intercom. "You've managed to subdue her without permanent damage. That's rare."

South bristled, climbing to her feet. "You sent her in here knowing she'd lose control, didn't you?"

The Director tilted his head, an amused smirk playing on his lips. "Control is a... fluid concept when it comes to Selena, wouldn't you agree? This was a necessary test, nothing more."

"Test?" North spat, still kneeling beside Selena. "She almost killed us!"

"And yet, you survived," the Director replied smoothly. "As I predicted."

South's fists clenched at her sides. "You're playing with fire. She's not a weapon; she's a person!"

The Director's expression darkened. "She is what we've made her, just as you are what your circumstances have forged you to be. I suggest you remember your place, Ms. Caruthers. The next time you speak to me, it will be with respect."

For a moment, silence reigned, tension crackling like static electricity. Then the Director's gaze shifted to North.

"Mr. Caruthers," he said, his voice almost... regretful. "I would advise you to keep a closer eye on your sister."

North's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

But the Director didn't answer. He simply turned on his heel and strode out of the observation deck. The cold lighting overhead reflected in the polished floors, casting his silhouette like a blade through the sterile corridor.

Behind him, a junior technician, barely out of training, still clutching a tablet full of trembling notes, hesitated before following. The chupa twitched his tail nervously as he caught up to the Director's long stride.

"Sir? Y-Your Orders?" the young felis Chupa asked, his voice tight with uncertainty. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to speak, but the silence pressing in around them was unbearable.

The Director slowed, his head turning slightly, though his eyes didn't meet the younger man's. Instead, he looked ahead, as though already ten steps further into the future.

"They performed better than expected," he said finally, his tone cool, almost analytical. "Especially him."

He stopped then, glancing out a narrow hallway viewport that overlooked the sprawling facility grounds.

A slight scoff escaped him. "Still too much sentiment. Especially from North. But... it will work itself out."

The technician frowned, a little confused. "Sir...?"

"Keep monitoring," the Director said.. His voice was quiet but firm and final. "Also, prepare him for the upcoming mission. The Containment Protocol for one of our rogue werewolves. We need to expedite phase two. No more delays."

The words had an unspoken weight, something unsaid beneath the surface. The technician felt it immediately:

North was being sent into something more than a standard operation, something more dangerous, maybe even deadly.

"Understood, Director," the technician said, though his voice had gone faint. He typed something quickly into his tablet, his hands colder now than when he'd stepped into the observation room.

As the Director continued down the corridor, his expression hardened. He didn't look back.

The twins had passed the test. And soon, one of them would serve a higher purpose.

To him, whether they survived or not was irrelevant.

Red vs Blue © Rooster Teeth. Halo © 343 Industries. Concept by Myshu, assisted by The Department of Chupapology.