(this chapter is **unedited** also my husband aka Chris Hemsworth is how I picture Wolf. enjoy xx)

EPILOGUE

"YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO come here," the doctor says as he stands before Wolf, one of his finer soldiers throughout the years, albeit now he's become quite the disappointment. The trait seems to be contagious amongst his former favorites. All of them betrayers.

All of them weak.

Wolf clasps his hands behind his back casually. "Well, you seem to be confused about the game we're playing. You left rather quickly the other day."

"Oh, dear boy, I'm not confused." The doctor grins. "Maybe you should find your proper place."

Wolf pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek to refrain from sinking his fangs in the old man's wrinkly neck. When he's composed himself once more, he says calmly, "I've come to collect my payment."

"Oh?"

"Do not play stupid with me. You know the deal we made."

"Yes, but I'm missing a very crucial part from you."

Wolf's nostrils flare in annoyance. "Things didn't go according to plan."

"You don't say," the doctor muses, narrowing his eyes.

Wolf growls. "Let I remind you that it was your camp he broke out of. He's never set foot in mine, so you cannot possibly blame me for your own security fail."

The doctor's nose twitches, the only hint he allows to show he's equally annoyed with the whole ordeal. "Yes... I'm dealing with that."

"I'm sure," Wolf remarks sardonically. "Now, shall we carry on?"

"I can't pay you without the full bargain, Wolf."

"Well, perhaps this will change your mind, and prove to you that I'm well aware of my 'proper place.'"

The doctor quirks a brow as Wolf snaps his fingers. Axel and Knox drag in Talon who has a muzzle and pounds upon pounds of chains. Talon is calm until his eyes lock on the doctor's now pale face, then rage like none Wolf has even experienced ignites in Talon's murderous red eyes. He roars loudly, fighting against the bindings and Wolf's two strongest soldiers.

Wolf grins when he hears the doctor swallow. "Let me repeat myself: shall we carry on?"

"I don't have it here," the doctor says, attempting to sound strong though his voice cracks and he hunches his shoulders. He flinches when Talon's chains creak with resistance.

"I don't appreciate lies, old man," Wolf practically sings, walking forwards with more confidence as he towers over the elder. "Where's the stash?"

"I have no proof that it even works," the doctor says, trying once again to persuade Wolf to drop the subject entirely. As if it would be so easy for Wolf to ignore the fact that a cure may very well be right under his nose. If he doesn't have to be this way, he won't.

"I have desperate souls willing to be first testers."

"It will ruin you. You'll be rid of the bloodlust and your abilities, but never your fangs. Those can only be removed by myself. Do you want to be a fool with fangs but nothing to show for it? What will your people do if you become weak?"

Wolf growls again, slamming the doctor back into the wall with his hand firmly on the old man's chest. "You did not make me strong," he hisses, reveling in the power as the doctor's pulse quickens, his blood flowing faster.

"You would be nothing without me," the doctor whispers back, lips quivering.

"If only I could gut you now," Wolf murmurs as he trails a nail down the man's neck. "But there would be no fun in that, would there?"

"I won't tell you where it is until you bring him to me."

"Pity. I suppose Talon will have to finish the job for me, then."

"You will never find it."

"Oh, you underestimate me, Master." Wolf snarls in the man's face before roughly pushing off of him, whirling back around to face an enraged experiment. "Sorry, boyo. Not today. Get him out of here."

Axel and Knox might as well be pushing a boulder out of the room with the amount of strength it takes to drag Talon away.

The doctor heaves a sigh of relief, sinking to his knees as if the terror of his near death exhausted him completely.

"Don't even think about getting arrogant," Wolf tells him. "I let you live because you're still useful to me. However, don't ever doubt for a moment that you're above me in this world. Not anymore."

"Wolf..." He almost sounds sincere.

Wolf narrows his eyes threateningly. "I won't fall for your games anymore, Doctor. You best start realizing that before you make an utter fool out of yourself. More than you already have."

"None of this..." The doctor inhales sharply. "It wasn't meant to be like this."

Wolf tilts his head mockingly. "Then perhaps you should've reconsidered your options. This is all your fault, after all."

The doctor hangs his head. "I know."

Wolf groans dramatically. "Find someone who will actually give a damn to feel sorry for you," he snaps, then walks out the door and slams it behind him.

Doctor Stevens keeps his head hanging shamefully, his stomach churning. All of this is his doing. He knows that. He knows it's all his fault: the war, his children betraying him. His sons loved him once upon a time, but he'd lost that respect. He knows that, too. He wishes things were different. He wishes he had thought everything through more thoroughly.

Perhaps the world would be living in peace after World War Three, instead of diving into another with his own creations. Perhaps so many people would not be dead. Perhaps the streets would not reek of death around every corner. Perhaps everyone would be happy, normal.

Perhaps 748 would still be at his side, still loyal.

Perhaps he would not hate himself as much as he does now.

None of that matters, though. He cannot reverse time. He cannot change what has already been done. All he can do is persevere. All he can do is move on.

He will see this battle through. Maybe he can win all of his sons' loyalties back when everything is settled. If he cannot achieve such a thing, however, he will at least ensure one thing:

The world will be his.

He pushes to his feet and rolls his shoulders back, walking back around his desk. He calls for Clarese, one of his assistants, over the intercom that runs through the hovercar. He will have to make camp elsewhere, somewhere much more formidable. He'll find an abandoned skyscraper of sorts--a building fit for a ruler.

Clarese pokes her head in a few moments later. "You summoned me, sir?"

"Yes." He clears his throat. "I need you to have a letter sent for me."

"Absolutely, sir. Where to, so I can inform the messenger to prepare appropriately?"

"Washington DC. There's a friend in hiding I need to get a hold of."

"Yes, sir. Is the letter ready?"

"Not yet. This will only take a moment."

He grabs a pen and paper, thinks through his thoughts for a moment, then begins to write in his messy scribe.

It's time.

Philadelphia.

Come as quickly as possible with all the proper resources. You know what to do.

Your most loyal colleague,

Harvey Stevens