On the Edge of Wolfish Control

Alger's heart pounded wildly, his eyes bloodshot with anger and fear. Every nerve in his body was on fire, every shred of thought consumed by the raging emotions within him. His fingers gripped the weapon tightly, prepared to face the adversary before him in a fight to the death. The air around him seemed to freeze, as if time itself had come to a halt, all waiting for the storm that was about to erupt.

The enemy was no longer a mere opponent, but a twisted manifestation of Alger's own emotions. He no longer cared about the enemy's identity or background; he only wanted to crush everything in his path. All the suppressed anger, fear, loneliness, and helplessness transformed into flames of fury, consuming his entire body and soul. The wolfish instincts within him awakened, a primal force surging through his muscles, threatening to devour all reason.

Alger's vision became blurry, and the enemy in front of him seemed to morph into prey, a target for him to vent his rage. The overwhelming impulse almost made him lose himself, his reason overtaken by the violence and bloodlust he craved. Under the control of his wolfish nature, Alger was no longer aware of calmness or logic. All that mattered was the instinct to tear flesh and spill blood.

But just as he was about to strike, releasing all his anger and pain in one decisive blow, a deep sense of awareness surged from the depths of his being. It wasn't an external distraction, but something within himself—a warning, a self-preservation instinct. Alger's heart jolted, and he stopped his motion, taking a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

"Stay calm, Alger, stay calm!" he repeatedly reminded himself in his mind.

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe deeply, feeling each inhale and exhale. In that moment, despite his heart still racing, his awareness began to sharpen. The wolfish instincts were still there, lurking within him, waiting for the next opportunity to explode, but now, Alger's mind was no longer consumed by blind rage and impulse. He was struggling against the darkness inside him, fighting to regain control.

"I am not a beast," he told himself firmly.

When Alger opened his eyes again, he saw his enemy clearly. The threat remained, but Alger now saw beyond just the surface. He was no longer the angry, impulsive youth—he was a warrior who had learned to control his wolfish instincts. He understood that the wolfish nature was not his enemy. It was a part of him, a primal force. If he could learn to coexist with it, to control it, he could gain unprecedented power.

Alger exhaled deeply, feeling an unprecedented clarity within him. He lowered his gaze to his weapon, feeling the cold metal in his hands. It had become an extension of his body, an integral part of him. At that moment, he was no longer a beast controlled by his instincts but a warrior who had harnessed his wolfish nature.

As a gust of cold wind swept through, Alger steadied his stance. His gaze locked back onto the enemy. This time, he was not driven by blind anger, but by calm judgment. His movements were precise, his eyes determined. His heart still raced, but his body and mind were razor-sharp. The enemy seemed to sense the shift in Alger's demeanor, hesitating for just a moment before charging at him.

Alger's heartbeat was still rapid, but his mind and body were in perfect harmony. There was no hesitation in his movements, his strike as swift as a predator pouncing on its prey. The blade cut through the air, landing with precision in the enemy's vital spot.

The enemy collapsed, blood staining the ground, but Alger felt no sense of satisfaction. He stood silently, feeling a deep sense of peace within himself. In that moment, he understood—the wolfish nature was not a burden to rid himself of, but a source of power. He had learned to coexist with it, and in doing so, he had unlocked a new strength.