"Brother!" shouted Elysra, who had her back turned and spun around to see me when she sensed my arrival. Her excitement was palpable as she watched me enter the castle's kitchen. It had been a while since I'd left the laboratory. She missed me.
"Princess... how are you?" I closed the door behind me and asked, smiling as I opened my arms to pick her up.
At that moment, after leaving my lab, I was back in my white suit. I wanted to spend some time with her and then meet the protagonist of Teen Wolf.
Honestly, I felt a little bad. It was like I was an absent father who only sends food and doesn't visit his child.
"I'm great! Ah... look!" She answered my question without beating around the bush, but she didn't return my hug because she wanted to show me something. Suddenly, she turned her body toward the oven and pulled out a heaping plate of... purple food.
"Do you... want to eat?" She looked at me with puppy eyes, presenting her dish. She wanted her big brother to try her delicious cooking. Even though every time she ate it, it gave her a stomachache, but since her brother never said anything, it must mean he liked it!
"Uh..." I scratched my head a bit, avoiding her beautiful golden eyes full of hope. A little sweat trickled down my forehead. Is it normal to feel more nervous now than I did with Arishem?
"H-how about I eat it after I show you something?" I stammered slightly, forcing a smile. Thank goodness it's just the two of us here!
Without waiting for her response, I walked over and scooped her up in my arms. I created a platform of cosmic energy and set the food down in the kitchen.
"Bu—" Elysra pouted and was about to protest.
"Don't you want to know where your brother came from?" I interrupted, placing her in front of me. She tilted her head in confusion at my question.
"Huh?... Weren't you born here?" she asked, still tilting her head. Up until now, Elysra believed her brother had been born here in this dimension, just like her.
"No, I was born... in a beautiful country called Colombia." I replied with a smile, faintly remembering where I used to live. A year without being there. It all still felt so... impossible.
"Oh..." Elysra nodded vigorously. Then, little by little, she started blushing. "What's a country?"
"Pff."
"Hey, don't laugh!"
...
The next hour I spent talking with her: telling her about my country, where I lived, who my family was.
She cheerfully asked if I had parents too, but I told her that I was her father. Ahem, I lied. I said we only had each other. To which she nodded strongly and hugged me.
In a very strange way, she told me she'd always be with me and never leave me, that from now on we'd go on every journey together. Should I keep her from seeing info about weird worlds?
Putting aside that moment which I found really sweet... wait, am I weird too for thinking that's so adorable?
Anyway, I asked if she wanted to go one of these days to a festival in my country, and she said yes, that she wants to know everything about me.
Knowing that, I decided to do something: teach her to dance to music.
Half an hour. It took her just half an hour to learn. Vallenato, salsa. No one would imagine a dragoness dancing so well!
Does she have a gift for dancing?
"Brother... do I look good?" Elysra asked timidly. She was currently holding her hands at her sides, clutching her new pristine dress. She wanted to look pretty for her brother!
"The most beautiful of all!" I exclaimed while ruffling her white hair. The dress made her look adorable.
'Hehehe, he called me beautiful...' She thought to herself, lowering her head, her little face flushed. Her eyes empty like the ocean depths.
I suddenly felt a shiver. Can I even feel shivers? I shrugged, dismissing the sensation.
Seeing her lift her head, my expression changed and I looked at her seriously. "Are you sure you want to join me on my travels?"
"Yes!" she shouted excitedly. She started running in circles around me. "I want to kick some butts!"
"Language."
"Booo." She stuck her tongue out at me while running, ignoring me.
A vein popped on my forehead. Should I remind her why she has to listen to her big brother?
I slightly raised my hand.
Elysra stopped immediately. She pouted. She could already feel the sting on her right buttock. Big brother is mean!
Shaking my head, I smiled and said: "Come on, transform into a cat. We're going to see the wolf."
"Yay!" she exclaimed, throwing a victory fist into the air. A sonic boom erupted above her. You can imagine her strength!
Poof.
Smoke appeared around her figure.
A second later, a beautiful golden cat emerged. Her fur seemed to burst into flames, and her appearance begged for adoration.
"Meow." She meowed and leaped toward me.
Catching her, I stroked her fluffy fur. Elysra purred against my chest, satisfied.
Once we were ready, I walked toward the door leading to the shop.
Our two silhouettes vanished from the castle, leaving behind the shadow of tomorrow.
...
[Third person]
In another place.
Specifically, the Wish Shop.
Jhon was seated in his imposing chair, one leg crossed over the other. Elysra was on his lap, leaning back while he petted her fur.
"Let's see..." He placed his free hand on his chin, debating whether to do what he had in mind.
There were two options: create a mask to hide his face and alter his voice, or simply meet Scott without it.
It would be easy to decide, since he really had nothing to hide. However, the issue was: if a normal human walks into a fantastical shop, and inside there's a being who exudes presence and power, with a cat that looks like it's on fire, and who can grant wishes—could you ever consider that being normal after knowing that?
So he planned to use a mask to prevent that idiot McCall from thinking he was a god.
Sometimes being seen as an authority figure is great, but often it's not. Everyone would view you as something beyond them, avoiding seeing you for who you are, and only seeing you for what you are or how powerful you are.
Well, that's how it is for weak people. Jhon knew that if someone strong entered his shop, very few would treat him as superior.
But what if the one entering is a teenager?
"Meh." Stopping overthinking something so simple, he made his decision. He'd use the mask in the shop when really stupid people came, while sending a clone to that world. If someone strong comes, he doesn't care if they see his appearance.
Waving his hand, a white mask materialized to match his suit, giving it a costume party vibe. It looked... cool.
Having resolved that issue, Jhon thought about another question. What would he gain from that world? Right now he's VERY strong—so strong that if he went there and slapped the Beast, he'd turn its brain to mush. However, it was the races that interested him.
Of course, he'd send a clone, since he felt he could use his original body to go to a broader world. And grow stronger x2 that way.
Unfortunately, clones don't have unlimited potential, but since it's him in that body, he still has his wish power. Plus his talent.
The gains from the wishes he grants will transfer to the original body, so he knows he can relax. If he manages to get the hellhound race, or a nogitsune, Jhon would be satisfied.
Even a regular werewolf would do.
"Meow." Elysra pawed his leg. What was he thinking about so much? She wanted to see the wet dog already!
"Coming, princess, it won't be long." Jhon turned her onto her back and started rubbing her belly. She was about to protest, but when she felt her brother's heavenly hands, she couldn't help but melt into the wonderful feeling. It felt too good!
At that moment.
Ding.
The bell above the shop rang. Someone had entered.
A smile formed on Jhon's face beneath the mask. Elysra looked toward the door. Her pupils turned to slits.
The person entered quickly...
"ROAAARRRR."
---
Before Jhon met the family-friendly protagonist.
In Teen Wolf.
---
The Stilinski house had fallen into an uncomfortable silence.
Stiles stood in the middle of his room, still processing Scott's outburst. His best friend had just stormed out, slamming the door, leaving behind more than just harsh words. He'd left a crack in their friendship that Stiles didn't know how to fix.
"Damn it, Scott..." he muttered, rubbing his face with both hands.
His eyes fell on the chair Scott had knocked over in his fit of anger. With a sigh, Stiles bent down to pick it up, but when he turned it over to examine it, his movements froze.
The wooden back had deep marks. They weren't normal scratches. They were... clean cuts, as if something sharp had sliced through the wood like butter.
"No way..." Stiles ran his fingers over the grooves. Four parallel lines. Like claws.
But not animal claws.
Claws that perfectly matched the spacing of human fingers.
Stiles's stomach churned. All the pieces he'd been putting together over days suddenly clicked into place with a terrifying snap in his mind. The bite. The mood swings. The inexplicable strength. The heightened senses.
The full moon.
"Oh, God..." he whispered, dropping the chair. "Scott... you don't know what you are."
---
McCall House - Later that night
Scott walked through the front door with a smile he hadn't had in days. Tonight was going to be perfect. He was going to pick up Allison, they'd go to Lydia's party, and finally everything would feel normal again.
Normal. That word felt almost ridiculous now, but Scott clung to it desperately.
"Mom?" he called, dropping his backpack by the door.
"In the kitchen!" Melissa McCall replied.
Scott found her making a quick coffee before her night shift at the hospital. His mother was a strong woman, used to double shifts and still finding time to worry about him.
"Hey, Mom... can I borrow the car tonight?" Scott asked, trying to sound casual.
Melissa raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on her lips. "The car? For what?"
"Well... there's a party. And I thought I'd take Allison."
"Ahh." His mother's smile widened. "The new girl. The one who's got my son walking around the house like a zombie."
"Mom..." Scott felt his cheeks burn.
Melissa pulled the car keys from her purse and twirled them on her finger. "Okay. But Scott..." Her expression turned serious, though her eyes still sparkled with amusement. "I want you to use protection."
"MOM!" Scott nearly choked on his own saliva.
"I'm just saying!" Melissa raised her hands defensively. "You're a teenager, hormones are—"
"That's not going to happen," Scott interrupted quickly, his face completely red. "Not... yet. I mean, not—" He stopped, realizing he was making it worse. "Just... give me the keys, please."
Melissa laughed and tossed him the keys. "Have fun, sweetie. And Scott... respect curfew."
"I will, I promise." Scott caught the keys and practically fled to his room to change.
As he walked away, he didn't notice the way his mother watched him with a mix of love and concern. There was something different about Scott lately. Something she couldn't quite pinpoint. But tonight he seemed happy, and that was enough for now.
---
Argent House
Allison Argent gave herself one last look in her bedroom mirror. The dress she'd chosen was perfect: not too formal, but not too casual either. She wanted to look good for Scott.
Smiling satisfied, she went downstairs where her parents were waiting in the living room.
Chris Argent, her father, was sitting on the couch reading something on his tablet. He was a serious-looking man with dark hair and an athletic build that suggested he did more than office work. Beside him was Victoria Argent, her mother, elegant and composed as always, with an expression that rarely showed full approval.
"Where do you think you're going dressed like that?" Victoria asked, though her tone wasn't entirely disapproving.
"To a party, Mom. I told you." Allison twirled around. "Do I look okay?"
"You look beautiful, honey," Chris replied, lowering his tablet. "But remember you have curfew. Eleven o'clock. Not a minute later."
"Eleven-thirty," Allison tried to negotiate.
"Eleven," Victoria repeated firmly, crossing her arms.
Allison sighed dramatically. "Okay, okay. Eleven o'clock."
"And that boy... Scott... is he picking you up?" Chris asked, his tone turning slightly protective.
"Yes, Dad. He's a good guy, I promise."
"He better be," Chris muttered, though there was a touch of humor in his voice.
At that moment, a car horn sounded from outside.
Allison's face lit up. "That's him!" She grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
"Allison!" her father called. She stopped and turned. "Eleven o'clock."
"Yes, Dad," she replied, rolling her eyes playfully before running out.
Chris looked at Victoria with a small smile. "Have you noticed she never gets that excited when we ask her to do something?"
Victoria gave him a light tap on the arm. "Let her be a teenager, Chris."
Both parents stood and walked to the window to watch. Outside, under the porch light, was Scott McCall, standing next to a borrowed car, visibly nervous.
"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Argent," Scott greeted with a tense smile when he saw the parents at the door.
Chris walked down the porch steps, with Allison following. Victoria stayed at the entrance, watching with her arms crossed.
"Scott," Chris extended his hand. Scott shook it, trying not to show how intimidating he found Allison's father. "Eleven o'clock. Understood?"
"Yes, sir. Eleven o'clock."
Chris nodded, then, almost casually, adjusted his jacket. The movement was subtle, but Scott noticed it immediately: the metallic glint of a gun at Allison's father's waist.
Scott swallowed audibly. "O-or even earlier if possible."
A small smile appeared on Chris's face. "Good kid. Have fun."
Allison grabbed Scott's arm and practically dragged him to the car before her father could intimidate him further.
"Sorry about that," Allison murmured as Scott opened the passenger door for her. "My dad can be... intense."
"Intense?" Scott laughed nervously as he walked around to the driver's side. "Your dad has a gun. He looks like Rambo."
Allison laughed. "It's just for protection. My family is a little... traditional about that stuff."
Scott started the engine.
As they drove away, Allison turned to Scott. "So... are you excited for the party?"
Scott smiled at her, trying to forget the tension. "Totally. It's going to be a great night."
---
Lydia Martin's Party
Lydia Martin's house was in full swing. Colored lights flashed from the windows, the music thumped loud enough to be heard from the street, and teenagers filled every available corner of the huge property.
Scott and Allison entered hand in hand. For a moment, Scott felt normal. Like he was just any other guy at a party with the girl he liked.
"Scott! Allison!" Lydia Martin appeared out of nowhere, perfectly put together as always, with a dazzling smile. "I'm glad you came! Drinks are in the kitchen, and you definitely have to hit the pool later."
"Thanks for inviting us, Lydia," Allison said politely.
"Of course. Have fun, but not too much." Lydia winked at them before disappearing into the crowd.
Scott and Allison dove into the party. Everything was going well. Scott was relaxed, chatting, laughing. But then it started.
First it was a slight dizziness. Barely noticeable. Scott blinked and shook his head lightly.
"Are you okay?" Allison asked, noticing his expression.
"Yeah, yeah. It's just... hot in here," Scott lied. But it wasn't the heat.
He felt strange, like he was losing strength in his body.
The music got louder. No, it wasn't the music. It was his hearing. He could hear every conversation at once. Allison's heartbeat. Every person's pulse in the room. The sound of nails scratching wood somewhere far away.
"Scott..." Allison's voice sounded distant.
He didn't respond. His eyes scanned the room, and then he saw it. Through the window overlooking the backyard.
Two bright blue eyes. Staring at him from the darkness.
Scott blinked.
The eyes vanished.
But then he saw something else: a dark silhouette running across the roof of the house at unnatural speed.
The dizziness intensified. His vision doubled, then tripled. The world started spinning.
"I have to... I have to go," Scott murmured, pulling away from Allison.
"What? Scott, wait—" Allison reached for him, but Scott was already moving, pushing through the crowd toward the front door.
"Scott!" Allison shouted, following him. They hadn't even lasted half an hour since arriving!
But Scott couldn't stop. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. He needed to get out of there. He needed to get home. He needed—
He fumbled with the car door, practically falling inside. He started the engine with shaking hands.
"SCOTT!" Allison reached the curb just as Scott peeled out of the parking spot, tires screeching against the pavement.
Allison stood there, watching the taillights disappear into the night. Her expression shifted from worry to confusion, then to anger.
"What the hell...?" she muttered, crossing her arms. Who just ditches someone like that?
She sighed. There was no point staying; she'd only come for Scott.
At that moment.
"Trouble in paradise?"
Allison turned to find a young man approaching her from the party. He was handsome, with dark hair and a leather jacket that gave him a controlled dangerous vibe. There was something in his eyes, though. Something that made her slightly uneasy.
If Scott were here, he'd feel green like an NTR protagonist. This guy definitely wouldn't leave Allison stranded.
"My... boyfriend left," Allison said, still looking toward where Scott had vanished. "He said he felt sick."
"It looked like more than 'feeling sick,'" the man commented. "I'm Derek, by the way. Derek Hale."
"Allison Argent."
"Nice to meet you." Derek put his hands in his pockets. "Scott asked me to make sure you got home safe if anything happened. Need a ride?"
Allison hesitated. Derek didn't fully inspire trust, but she didn't have many options. She wasn't going to call her parents and admit Scott had abandoned her at a party. Everything would get ruined.
"I guess... yeah," she finally replied, uncertain.
"My car's over here." Derek pointed to a black Camaro parked on the street.
Allison followed, still upset with Scott but grateful not to be stranded. She got in, buckling her seatbelt as Derek started the engine.
"Where to?" Derek asked.
Allison gave her address, and Derek nodded, pulling away.
During the drive, Allison stared out the window, lost in thought. She didn't notice how Derek occasionally watched her through the rearview mirror.
She didn't notice how, for a brief second, his eyes glowed a bright blue before returning to normal.
---
McCall House
Scott arrived home in a near-panic state. He almost hit the mailbox pulling clumsily into the driveway. His mom wasn't there; her hospital shift meant he had the house to himself.
He stumbled out of the car and practically crawled to the front door. His hands shook so much he could barely get the key in the lock.
Finally inside, he slammed the door behind him.
He staggered up the stairs, each step taking more effort than it should. He reached his room and locked the door, frantically pulling off his shirt.
His skin was burning. He could feel every muscle fiber in his body tensing, expanding. It hurt. Everything hurt.
He collapsed onto his bed, breathing heavily. Sweat poured down his forehead, soaking the sheets.
Ring ring.
His phone rang.
With trembling hands, Scott pulled it from his pocket. It was Stiles.
"What?" Scott growled, his voice sounding rougher than usual.
"Scott! Are you okay? Where are you?" Stiles's voice sounded frantic.
"At... home. I feel... dizzy."
"Scott, listen to me. Listen very carefully." Stiles took a deep breath. "Don't leave your house. You hear me? Don't leave for any reason."
"What? Why?"
"Because it's a full moon, idiot. And I think I finally know what's wrong with you."
Scott growled again, louder this time. It wasn't a human sound. "Stiles... I don't have time for your stupid theories—"
"They're not theories! If you came to see the chair in my room, you'd know—look at everything that's been happening!—"
"I don't give a damn about the chair!" Scott's voice came out as a roar. "Is Allison still at the party?"
There was a pause. "What? I don't know, I guess—"
"Is she there or not?"
"Scott, you need to calm down—"
"ANSWER THE QUESTION!"
Stiles swallowed audibly. "No... I haven't seen her. Wait, I think... I think I saw someone take her. A guy in a black Camaro."
The silence that followed was deafening.
"Scott?"
Scott's breathing had become heavy, labored. "Did you say... a black Camaro?"
"Yeah, why? Do you know him?"
Derek. Derek Hale's face flashed in Scott's mind. The man who'd approached him days ago, saying nonsense about "helping each other." The man with blue eyes who kept showing up at the worst moments.
"Scott, you told me I was your only friend. So who—?"
Stiles couldn't finish expressing his jealousy toward his friend because he was ignored.
The phone fell from Scott's hand.
His eyes, which had been brown his whole life, began to glow an intense golden yellow.
"No..." he whispered, looking at his hands. He could see the veins darkening under his skin. He could feel the bones in his face starting to shift. "No, no, no—"
But it was useless.
The transformation had begun.
The pain was indescribable. Every cell in his body was being rewritten, rearranged. His bones cracked, his muscles expanded. Dark hair began to sprout from his arms, his chest, his face.
Scott fell off the bed, clutching his chest as a gut-wrenching scream tore from his throat.
"GRAAAAAUUGHHH—RRRHHH—GRRRAAAAGH!!"
A scream that turned into a roar.
"RRRRRRAAAAAAAAGH!"
His hands were no longer hands. They were claws. Long, sharp, deadly.
His face had elongated. He could feel fangs filling his mouth.
And his eyes... his eyes glowed like evolved fireflies, banishing the darkness in his room.
Scott McCall was no longer fully present.
In his place was something else. Something wild. Something driven by instinct.
And that instinct told him one thing: Allison is in danger.
With a roar that shook the walls of his room, Scott leaped toward the window, shattering it into a thousand pieces as his wolf form launched into the night.
---
Stilinski House
"Scott? SCOTT?"
Stiles stared at his phone in disbelief. The call had ended.
"Shit. Shit, shit, shit." He jumped out of bed, running his hands through his hair. "This can't be happening. This CANNOT be happening."
But it was. His best friend was a werewolf. And right now, he was probably transforming under the full moon with no control.
Stiles grabbed his keys and ran to the door. He had to find Scott before he hurt someone.
Or before someone hurt him.
---
Beacon Hills Woods
Scott ran like he was hunting—and that wasn't entirely wrong.
His paws pounded the forest floor with force that left craters in the damp earth. Trees blurred past him. The night wind whipped through his dark fur, carrying a thousand different scents.
But only one mattered.
Derek Hale.
He could smell him. That scent of leather, forest, wolf. He'd smelled it before, days ago, when Derek approached him. He hadn't recognized it then, but now his animal side identified it perfectly.
And Derek had Allison.
He could smell her too.
A low growl rumbled in Scott's chest as his paws devoured the distance. His instincts screamed, demanding action.
Then something caught his attention.
Scott skidded to a stop, claws tearing into the ground. His pointed ears twitched, picking up an unnatural silence in one spot.
Scott turned his wolf head left. Between the trees, where there had been nothing moments ago, now stood... a shop.
It wasn't an ordinary shop. It glowed with a soft, almost ethereal light. The windows shone with warm golden hues, inviting. And above the door, in letters that seemed to shift color with every blink, it read:
"THE WISH SHOP"
Scott tilted his head, confused. His human side—what little remained—whispered that this wasn't normal. Shops didn't appear out of nowhere in the middle of the woods.
But his wolf side...
His wolf side felt something different. A deep, instinctive premonition. Not exactly danger. It was an...opportunity.
As if the universe itself was offering him a way out.
A path forward.
Without thinking further, Scott charged toward the shop. His hind legs propelled his massive body forward as he ran full speed toward the entrance.
Grabbing the handle to open it, he did.
Scott burst through the threshold with a leap, landing in a fighting stance.
"ROAAARRR!"
He looked around frantically.
But there were no prey, no lambs. No—just two beings who could end him with a single blow.
The atmosphere in the shop seemed to shift, and the overhead lights changed with it.
His eyes locked on the man in a white suit seated in a chair. The mask on his face gave him an air of mystery that made Scott slightly nervous.
On his lap was a cat. And he hated cats!
He was about to lunge in a rage, without rationalizing how insane this was, but...
The cat stared at him.
When he saw the cat's slitted pupils, Scott froze, sweat pouring from his body. His body began to tremble as if facing a being at the top of the food chain.
His instincts, which had driven him to enter, now begged him to flee as far as possible.
But he couldn't. He couldn't move at all. Not while the cat kept staring.
"Hmpf." The cat huffed, turning its head away, as if deeply disappointed.
And it wasn't far off, because Elysra had been expecting a giant wolf or a super-strong man to fight and kick around. Instead, she got a scared kid who nearly wet himself just from her gaze.
A grimace formed under Jhon's mask; he'd expected this. If he'd told her the visitor was weak, she'd be bored.
Unable to change how pathetic a werewolf from that world is, Jhon rested an arm on his chair, bending his forearm at ninety degrees, then rested his face on it, giving him an imposing air.
"Wolf."
He spoke in a deep voice. So deep that Scott felt like his eardrums would burst. He regretted coming here all over again!
"Tell me... what do you desire?"
---
Author's Note: End of Chapter 22.
I had planned an arc for this world, but I changed my mind.
This world will only be for acquiring a variety of races. Next comes the one I really want to do, hehehe.
Damn, every time I'm on a bus, I imagine scenes in that world—it gets me so excited. I can't wait to write about it!
Hope you enjoyed the chapter.
Please give power stones. The end is short on stones.
[JhonDaoist]