CHPT 32: What Am I?

"Now, we fight." The last intelligible words spoken inside the dark and spacious warehouse for what felt like years. Years of violent and bloody sparring that truly only lasted an hour. Even so, spending an hour fighting an incredibly agile and powerful ShapeShifter with skin that felt like rhino hide was more than enough for the WereWolves and WereCoyote of Beacon Hills. More than enough, an understatement in all honesty. Marco was obliterating them.

Derek couldn't believe it. Being struck by the Beta of feline origin was one thing, but being overpowered completely at times was enough to send him into a near blind rage. He didn't unveil the mystery of his own blood, Peter, and survive his wrath-- steal his Alpha Spark, just to be relegated to.... an example.

And yet, there he was.

Dodging and blocking a barrage of blindingly fast swipes from claws that could've been mistaken for meathooks. Claws connected to fingers as thick as crow bars and hands as large as the paws of a lion. The thing that made Marco so hard to beat as an opponent was variety. He mixed things up constantly in every aspect.

Following that firm understanding, the claws that once ripped through his skin like butter turned to fists and reignited the bruises made in his ribs and forearms.

"AHHHCK!" Derek roared and slid on the dusty floor as Marco slammed a punch into his stomach.

A second wind took him-- his insides warmed by the ignition of his Alpha Spark, his anger. His eyes took on an even deeper shade of red that seemed to pour from his irises like a magical blood smoke.

In the spacious warehouse, all he watched was Marco. His current source of shame-- his hard reminder of failure. Not Scott, or Stiles-- or even Isaac, as they stood by bloodied and exhausted. Just Marco.

The massive beast of a teenager took off after him, dropping to all fours to move in a blurring zig zag across the dark floors. The sleek black fur coating his muscles reflected nothing and made his eyes seem even wilder. He looked horrifying.

As he ran, claws clicking and sparking against the floor with his jaws opened, Derek saw Peter. He saw the Monstrous and vengeful Alpha for a fraction of a second.

Derek growled and charged Marco.

The two smashed into eachother, hard enough to shake the walls. Neither giving into the others power. Marco towered over him, fangs bared and dreaded hair hanging like a mask. Derek stood opposite of him, holding off one arm, with his other dug deep into the Shifters stomach. Suddenly the skin didn't feel so tough, the strength so overpowering.

As Derek stood against the monstrous pressure, growing, changing-- evolving. Something began to beep. Taking his mind out of the delicate and difficult to reach place he'd once been in. His eyes lost their bloodied flame, his skin turning from the beginnings of a cold grey back to their light ivory tones.

Marco loosened his grip.

"Time's up.... right when we were about to make real progress. Unfortunate, but it's only day one. Until next time, Alpha." Marco replied casually as he shifted back to his human form.

Derek fought off the urge to sigh in relief and removed his claws from Marco's stomach. The feline shifter didn't even flinch as his blood oozed down onto his sweatpants.

"... Next time can we get like a warm up--? Maybe some group stretching? For a minute there I thought you were trying to kill us for real..... hehe..?" Scott said as he got up from the pickup truck he was thrown into minutes ago.

"Seems like that would've been a better option.... I think my ribs got rebroken twice in the span of thirty minutes." Isaac replied from his spot on the hood of the truck as he painfully rolled his shoulders.

"Anything other than this would've been a better option." Scott growled as he approached the truck and helped Stiles to his feet, using only his right hand as usual. The left was still..... different.

"You don't understand why I did this?" Marco called over to them as he approached with Derek, bleeding and seemingly deep in his own mind.

The others stiffened for a moment before Stiles spoke.

"You needed to show us our difference....."

Marco came to a stop a few dozen feet away from them, heavy breaths made him seem more menacing in the dark, "Exactly. If the Canima was able to take me out as I am with so much ease, consider what it'll do to you in your current forms. Not to mention the Hunters and Warlocks. I needed to physically show you the difference firsthand."

"Oh yea..... it's not like we just went to war with them a week ago or anything." Stiles mumbled.

"You didn't learn from that lesson. So, it needed to be taught again." Marco stated flatly.

"And was part of that lesson getting Derek to do the fiery Alpha eye thingy?" Stiles questioned.

"Yea what was that? I want to do that." Isaac nodded along with Stiles.

"The Spark. We all have it, Alpha's have the most." Marco explained.

"Obviously not enough." Derek growled before leaving the group at the front of the truck to take a seat in the back and tend to his wounds.

"The Spark is a power before it is an Alpha's calling card. A power meant to be grown at that." Marco said to Derek's back.

"Yea? Is that what they told you back where you're from?" Derek spat.

"It's the truth."

"And that's what you're here to give us? The truth?" Scott suddenly asked.

"More or less." Marco looked over to Scott, remembering their brief exchange. He was strong for somebody who'd only been a Wolf for a few months. Surprisingly strong. Even as he restrained himself.

"Then what are you, truly?" Stiles built upon Scott's words without even thinking. The question seemed to be gnawing at his mind ever since he and Scott had first collided with the young giant, "I mean only a month ago, I thought WereWolves was all there was. Then we fought a Drago-- a Canima. And here you are, still a mystery."

"Lowenmensch. That's what he is." Derek said from the back of the truck.

Stiles looked from Derek to Marco. Marco's face looked as flat and expressionless as ever, leaving Derek to continue.

"WereWolf Werelion Hybrid. Uncommon in the US. Which explains him not being from here." Derek explained.

Scott, Stiles and Isaac looked shocked for varying reasons. None directly related to such an unveiling since it wasn't nearly as insane as whatever the Canima was. Even so.

"....Hybrid?" Scott asked, "That's possible?"

"Yes, in naturally born Shifters. It takes time, our genes aren't so simple." Derek replied.

The group found themselves looking back to Marco, still, dead in the face.

"So.... you're a Lowenmensch." Stiles said. For some reason the answer felt anticlimactic...

Marco shook his head, "No. The Lowemensch used to be what I am."

There it is.

".... What?" Stiles questioned. Even Derek partially turned his head to better listen in.

"My origins are similar to yours-- related even."

"To us..... WereWolves?" Scott questioned.

"Yes. The same, way a god played a part in the creation of the Lycanthope, Scott." Marco said. "Lycaon and his mistake that caused Zeus to instill the cursed spark within.... only for the Druids to save you. You know the story."

"Mhm." Scott and Stiles nodded, Isaac hadn't moved since the word WereLion was spoken.

"Well, around that time, a Warrior Clan of people in Egypt received the blessings of another. Protectors of tombs and Slayers of enemies. They were blessed and made into warriors in his image." Marco explained.

"Who's image?" Scott asked.

"Anhur. Son of Ra, war god, hunter and slayer of opposition."

"So, your kind was blessed to become ShapeShifters, and WereWolves were cursed?" Stiles questioned. "That makes no sense."

"That's because that didn't happen." Marco replied, "We didn't start out as Shape-Shifters. Our forms were permanent-- like the old Lycanthropes, only my ancestors embraced it because it was what they prayed for. Our difference came from you."

"Me?" Scott asked as Marco aimed his finger at him.

"Greece and Africa had frequent cultural interactions as early as eighteenth-century BC. By that time, we were both growing in number, and crossing paths. Hybridization was imminent. And over time, we learned to shift, we we're called by both the sun... and eventually the moon.... silver began to burn our skin, and the spark was awakened within. Not long after, certain groups deviated from Egypt looking to search for more similar species to possibly learn from or conquer, and that's where you get the Lowenmensch from."

Stiles nodded along vaguely, "So.... the Lowenmensch is a deviation of what you are. But the same?"

"More Wolf. Different strengths and weaknesses." Marco shrugged.

"And that makes you....?"

"Onurian. Hunters also called us Grey Lions."

The group didn't know where to take such information. Obviously there were other shifters and supernatural species.... but the concept of other gods and what they could do-- how they intervened and interacted with mankind. It was a concept that was harder to swallow than most to say the least.

Marco clapped his hands suddenly and got a jump out of everyone who was pulled into the story, "Now. We're done here. Go home, recover. Same time tommorow. We work towards building your strength and unlocking your shifting potential. We don't have much time so don't waste it."

"Same time?" Scott said, "We're already skipping enough classes."

Marco looked over at Scott, "Are you really worried about school right now?"

"What...?"

Marco headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Scott called after him.

"I've got work to do. Go home, Scott. Think about what we discussed."

Scott watched as he left remembering what they spoke about during their fight. It wasn't really a conversation, but a remark.

As he remembered it he found himself looking down at his bandaged left hand. It still burned cold. Still transformed and riddled with dullish glowing veins. Still... different.

And according to Marco, "I don't think that's an injury, Scott."