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Chapter Text

In the Ancient Times, when Elyssaria was still beautiful and sunlit, the Crimson Death fell from above and tore the world asunder. As the land turned black and cold, the last of the Great Seers convened and reached into the future. From their efforts came a great mural, painted across the walls of the Palace Aflame. Connected to the great images was the Fortold Dawn Arising, telling of the sun and its great return.

In the days after the coming of the Crimson Death, the remaining Terassians found hope in the colors sprawled across the walls of the Cave Afire.

The Foretold Dawn Arising spoke of an Ælpha who would come and reunite our people, crossing the lands between us and the Aberrents to bring us back together. Our people searched for light in that prophecy.

It has been many centuries now, and still we wait for the fulfillment of the Prophecy, hoping that there will be enough left of our land to rebuild.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the time before Elyssaria bled and burned, when the trees still grew in shades of ochre and viridian and the grasses still flowered, the lines of Rinton-Har and Greav-Har, the Line of the Protectors, still held strong. In this time the Ælphas still stood under the ægis of that line, strong and unbending, powerful and fearless.

When the Crimson Death descended from on high and laid Elyssaria low, the Line of Rinton-Har fled with their guards, their protectors leading all they could to the safe havens of the Higher Lands and the Lands Below. When the Great Rift tore the lands asunder, unleashing fire and brimstone beyond wildest nightmare, all those who fled high and low were destroyed. The Line of Rinton-Har was betrayed by all but a few and fell in the Time of Blood and Fire; with great screams of anguish they fell.

The remaining Terassians were divided, many following a rising darkness in the now sickening lands, while the others fled to any remaining safe havens, their forms now warped and twisted into things of horror.

The Remaining Line of Greav-Har fled alone, the betrayers of their Ælphas. They made their way into the unknown beyond the Great Rift, their folly leading to great suffering and wailing. No one knows what happened to them or where they now reside if any of their number survived, but the Last Great Seer spoke on his death bed of the coming of one who would bring honor back to their family line.

The Last of the Greav-Har Line will redeem themself alongside the Last of the Rinton-Har Line.

—Euryale, Redclæw of the Terassians, A History of Tartarus.

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His life was a mess.

Perhaps it had not always been that way, but meeting and losing Nancy Wheeler had shown him just how much of a mess he had become.

Steve Harrington had been alone since he was ten and his parents decided he no longer needed them around. He took care of himself from there on out, telling himself he was fine by himself.

With no parental guidance in his life, Steve developed a bit oddly, seeking connection wherever possible. Sometimes he tried to make friends with classmates. Most of the time he sought out animals.

He had a way with the woodland creatures, a way that he himself would never have been able to explain. By age thirteen he had a plethora of creatures at his beck and call. By age fourteen he made his first long term human friend, a boy named Tommy Hagan.

By fifteen, Steve stopped seeking out animals because it was freaky, wrong, inhuman.

By sixteen he was just a messed up kid, lost in the dark. He went to every party in town, allowing himself to sink abysmally low in the search for attention.

By seventeen, he was the most popular kid in school and also the most well know bully.

Steve “The King” Harrington had all the attention he could have ever wanted…but he was achingly lonely.

Nancy Wheeler changed that, giving him a sense of belonging and care that he had never known before. She was sweet and kind, making him feel alive even on the worst days. He was absolutely certain he was in love with her…and then he watched her grow attached to another boy.

Jonathan Byers seemed so odd, so unusual, and Steve wondered why Nancy had fallen for him.

Then came the night Nancy told him she despised him. Steve felt something in him break that night and he thought he knew exactly who to blame.

(Later he would say it had been for the best, but oh, it was agony then.)

The anger her rejection created felt like fire in his chest.

Steve slipped painfully fast, even going so far as to get into a fight with Byers. It was the lowest he thought he had ever gone. After the fight, as he held a chilled soda to his head, all the pain and loneliness and anger from the past few years evaporated.

Steve was so, so tired.

That night, he drove to Nancy’s house to apologize for treating her the way he had.

The five minutes after he arrived at her house were a rush of chaos. He had barely knocked on the door when it swung open to reveal Nancy and her new boyfriend. Seconds later Steve had a gun pointed at his head. Moments after that, he had a spiked bat nearly crash into his head and then nearly got torn apart by a bony monster with claws like razor blades.

Steve decided he wanted nothing to do with whatever was going on in there and fled back to his car. He was about to drive away, determined to survive the night, but then he saw the lights flickering and…Steve made a decision.

He walked back into the house, picked up the bat from where he had seen it fall, and joined the fight.

The monster seemed unsure of how to respond to his sudden appearance, staggering back with a startled roar. Steve twirled the bat lightly, relishing the weight as he slammed into the beast’s stomach to force it back into the gasoline trap Nancy had set for it. It stepped into the wetness, limbs flailing, and Byers lit it on fire.

They won.

They won the fight and Steve took the bat home with him that night afterwords. The nails in it glistened with the blood of a monster and Steve felt oddly safe with it in his passenger’s seat.

He slept heavily that night, dreams full of claws and victory.

Chapter Text

Steve had tried his hardest to forget everything that had happened. It had been terrifying, having a monster that had more teeth and claws than anything had a right to come after him. But, for all his ignoring and attempts at forgetting, his life seemed now interwoven with the creatures.

Only a few days after it all happened, he was more or less ambushed by a group of middle schoolers who demanded to know all the details of that night. They clearly knew more than he did and so, in a great lapse of judgement, Steve agreed to give them his information in exchange for theirs.

They agreed.

What followed was about a week of secret meetings and hidden conversations, all full of horrible secrets. Steve discovered that the creature (dubbed a Demogorgon, a name that Steve would die before using) was apparently not the only one of its kind and, worse than that, it came from an alternate dimension the kids were calling the Upside Down. Someone had apparently already been killed by the monster (Steve’s heart ached as he momentarily remembered Barb) and one of the kids had ended up in that other world after crossing the monster’s path and falling into a Gate between the worlds while running from it.

Obviously, since he himself gave the account of what had happened to him, Will Byers had survived.

Learning all those terrible things about alternate dimensions and alien monsters put Steve on edge. This time, instead of pretending it was all a dream that he would wake up from, Steve decided to do something about it.

So, Steve started practicing.

He never had a super strong swinging or throwing arm as a kid, but after that night with the monster…he started training. Somehow, he knew the monsters would come back.

He would need to be ready when they did.

For the first few weeks, Steve used various metal bats to practice, not wanting to injure himself as he swung around blindly. At first, the weight and repeated training sessions made his arms burn horribly. But then he started noticing subtle changes in how much weight he could handle.

The first time he really noticed it was at basketball practice one Friday afternoon.

One of his teammates tossed him the ball and, since he had a perfect shot at the hoop, he went for it. His toss, no different than any of his others, massively overshot and hit the gym wall hard enough to make a thwacking noise. His teammates all ogled him in surprise, having never seen such horrible aim t from their team captain. Steve pased it off as an accident.

When Steve went home that day he decided to use a heavier bat than usual to practice swinging and aiming. To his surprise, the weight was easy to handle. He swung it around a bit, hitting a few balls across the yard to focus on aiming more force in one direction.

After about five minutes, he paused to collect his practice gear before transitioning to power swings. For those, he used just about anything hard enough to handle being hit repeatedly: wood, brick, metal pipes, anything he could find around his house that was of no value and would not be missed if it did break.

He bent a metal pole double that day.

He took to running at about the same time he started bat training. After all, what was the point of having the ability to fight if he was unable to run if necessary?

So, he ran.

Almost every day, usually right after school, he would take his spiked bat and set out into the woods. He never had a real destination in mind, but the uneven terrain helped his balance improve even as his speed did. He felt more and more certain that he could handle another monster with every day that passed.

He just didn’t expect that second fight to happen quite so soon.

Thanks to the kids, Steve had a bit more information about the monsters and so was a bit more prepared for the day one showed up on his afternoon run.

He had strayed a bit farther than usual from his house and, as the gangly creature stretched out toward his face, Steve really wished he had run on the road that day. Blindly, hoping his aim was good, he swung his bat upward into its arm hard enough to make a gruesome cracking noise. The beast staggered back with a shriek before regrouping and roaring at him, face opening up like some sort of hideous flower.

Steve braced himself, lowering himself into a sort of half-crouch as he swung his bat back and forth to warm up his arm. The creature lunged toward him, clearly taking the gesture as some sort of challenge. Steve was left scrambling to defend himself from its razor sharp claws and hundreds of tiny teeth, swinging wildly as it moved to bite.

Strings of sticky saliva ran down its jaws and neck, adding an extra layer of horror to the already hideous creature. Steve leapt out of the way as it slashed at him and its claws ended up embedded in the trunk of an oak tree. As it fought to free itself, Steve bolted, putting some distance between the two of them.

Only a few seconds later he could hear it racing after him, low growls and wet sounding huffs calling after his feeing back.

‘I just have to get to the road. I’ll be at least a bit safer there.’ A split second later he realized it was a foolish thought, since it would bring the monster closer to other people, but Steve was running out of options.

The beast roared almost directly over his shoulder and Steve twisted around to face it, bat already up and swinging. Somehow he managed to hit it upside the malformed head and it reeled back with a screech, clawing at the wounds he had made. A flash of pride ran through his chest before Steve forced himself to focus.

He paused for a moment, mind racing as he had a sudden thought. If he let this monster get away alive, it might terrorize someone who had no way to protect themselves. But if he advanced before it recovered—

He lunged.

Steve swung his bat down hard, the wood cracking audibly as it plowed into the soft tissue and harder bone of the monster’s head. The thing let out a garbled noise of pain, legs buckling as it crumpled to the ground, and Steve hit it again. It seemed to realize in that moment that it was about to lose to a human with nothing but a baseball bat, as it lurched upward and took a reckless swipe at Steve’s torso.

The teen managed to lean backward enough to avoid being completely sliced open, but its claws caught a glancing blow across his hip. Steve felt warm blood start soaking into the waistband of his jeans right before the pain hit and his vision momentarily went white.

The monster, still sprawled on the ground, let out a triumphant warble as Steve staggered back. A choked whine escaped the teen’s throat as he struggled to hold back a much louder scream. The pain was horrible, almost crippling as it kept hitting him in waves. He nearly fell to one knee before catching sight of the monster trying to lift itself back upright.

‘If it gets away…people will die.’ His thoughts were sluggish, flowing slowly as he tried to get a handle on the pain radiating down his leg. ‘If…if I can kill it…then maybe any others will be deterred until people figure out how to fight them better. I have to kill it, even if it kills me too.’

Armed with that thought and nothing but sheer determination, Steve took a staggering step forward and lifted his weapon again. The monster let out a startled chirp when it realized the human was still upright, but it had very little time to wonder where things had gone wrong as a baseball bat full of nails collided with its head.

Steve refused to stop hitting it this time, landing swing after swing until the flower-like skull of the beast looked more like hamburger meat than anything living. Even when it stopped moving he kept hitting it. He hit it until he had nearly separated the head from the body and its blood painted the surrounding leaves black as tar.

Only then did he stagger back, panting and in agony.

The world was spinning, earth heaving under his feet, and Steve’s back hit the ground before he even realized he had fallen. The sky warped and twisted above him, disorienting and painful as he tried to figure out what he was doing on the ground. Fighting the monster faded from his memory as he lost his grip on the bat. He just lay there, breathing shallowly, bleeding into the leaves on the forest floor, until spots danced across his vision and he allowed himself to fade.

Had Steve kept his eyes open even a few seconds longer, he would have seen two spectral figures step out of the surrounding trees and lean over their fallen comrade. The two churred and huffed at each other for several one minutes before a third much more well-built creature joined them. This one had crimson red claws adorning each hand and carried itself like a leader.

When it saw the fallen monster, it let out a mournful moaning sound.

The other two pointed to the fallen body of the one who had killed such a mighty beast, tones almost accusing now. One seemed to hesitate before chirping out a sort of strange question. The crimson clawed being hissed back an answer, already moving toward the young human’s fallen body. It held one of those deadly claws over his face, the digit trembling as it searched for some sign of life in the bleeding young man.

An almost relieved growl filled the silence when warm breath ghosted over its claws and the other two let out inquisitive noises as the third lifted the boy’s limp form into its arms.

The two creatures glanced at each other in clear confusion before a sharp bark from the third had them scrambling to lift their fallen companion between them.

They followed the third back into the shadows of the trees and toward the eerie red light emanating from a rock formation some distance ahead.

Steve, cradled gently in the arms of a monstrous killer, remained completely unconscious. He never felt the soft swaying of the creature’s gait, or the gentle purrs coming from its chest. He never heard the ominous humming of the Gate as they stepped through, or registered the sudden drop in temperature as they entered another world.

Steve remained blissfully unaware of everything, as he stayed far too deep under the blanket of sleep to care that his entire life had just been changed.

Chapter Text

There was a sharp, agonizing pain in his side.

It felt like molten lava being poured over his entire side and it just kept getting worse—!

It was gone.

Just…just gone.

Steve opened his eyes slowly, trembling faintly after the agony of whatever had just happened, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized there was a literal inter-dimensional monster leaning over him.

A startled yell left his throat, loud enough to startle the creature backwards. It let out a soft chuffing sound before moving forward again and…sniffing him? Watching him? Did these things even have eyes?!

“Wh-what are you doing?”

A low, gargling growl was his only response and Steve froze, heart pounding. The monster reached out slowly, claws glistening with what looked like blood in the dim light. Steve felt himself grow even more tense, body trembling slightly from how hard he was trying to hold still. Those gleaming claws (not bloodied, he realized, but actually a deep crimson color) drew closer and closer to his face until they…stopped?

The creature stopped moving entirely, one limb outstretched as though offering an invitation for something. Steve had never been more confused in his life.

“What…?” He cleared his throat and swallowed as his words caught, “What do you want?”

Another chirp sounded and the creature’s flowery face shuddered faintly. Those deadly claws flexed minutely right in front of his eyes. Steve found himself caught between the urge to run and the urge to reach up to touch the offered hand (paw? Claw? What was it when it was more finger than actual hand?).

Steve gave into the more stupid of the two urges.

His fingers brushed over the cold flesh of the creature’s knuckle and the texture was oddly rreminiscen of the lumpy back of a toad. The creature made no move to attack, so Steve lost some of his hesitancy and ran a finger across the top of the longest finger. He traced the outline of the crimson claw at the end of the digit before tracing its protruding bones down to the skeletal palm.

Almost instantly, there was the horrible sensation of wild spinning and Steve was falling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once, our land was beautiful.

Green everywhere. Blue above. Ethereal creatures moving on elegant legs as they travelled through grassy meadows and into the welcoming embrace of sprawling forests.

Steve felt his breath catch at the beauty of it all.

Once, our land was called Elyssaria. It was beautiful. It was perfect. It was home.

A huge castle formed from great rock spires and the earth itself flickered into view. It looked as though it were studded with great gemstones, crimson and yellow, orange and gold. It was stunning.

We called this place the Home of Our Leaders. The great Palace Aflame, built centuries ago by the first of the great Ælphas.

Steve walked through painted halls, those same beautiful creatures on all sides as he walked. He followed them into a great domed room, in awe of everything around him. There, seated on a great throne of silver and emerald, was a creature crowned with golden leaves and crimson berries. Steve knew without a doubt that this was the Ælpha.

Standing beside the majestic creature was another figure, this one robed in sapphire and copper. The way it stood spook of unshakeable loyalty and unfailing protection.

The Ælpha and his Beta stood before all Terassians, leaders adorned with precious stones. We were happy. We were safe. We were whole.

Steve took a step forward, desperately wanting to get a closer look at the two leaders, but suddenly the ground under his feet trembled.

But the beauty did not last. In the last months of the summer, when celebrations and festivals were held across our land, the sky tore open and the Crimson Death fell from above.

A great red ball of fire, like some huge meteor, hurtled through the sky as Steve stood among the creatures. He could smell fear, thick and cloying, hanging in the air. This thing did not belong.

When it landed, the ground trembled violently and a wave of grey dust rippled out from its settling place. The dust did not dissipate and everything began to change.

Within a month, our land was turned black and cold. Plants died. Members of our once great kingdom began to disappear. Those who remained changed into creatures of death and horror. We could not stop the change.

The forests and fields were gone. Black earth, cracked and dry, was all that remained now. The air was full of ash and the scent of burning. Steve’s stomach turned as he watched one of the once beautiful beings stagger past him, skin grey and hard. It looked back at him momentarily and a flowery face trembled open with a mournful cry.

We believed that was the last of it. The Crimson Death had come and leveled our land, what more could be done to us? But then, in the shadows of the faded morning light, the ground opened up and our world was shattered. The Great Gate opened, dividing our lands. From the darkness across the split came a great creature wreathed with shadows, given orders by the Crimson Death itself. Once, the Magus Aranea protected our lands from invaders. Now, it became the Skia Elenkti. The Shadow of Condemnation.

Steve watched, shaking, as a massive creature with many dark legs moved across the land. A great roar issued from the general area of its horned head and monsters flocked to it.

It stole away so many of our people. It destroyed what little hope we had left. The Line of Ælphas, the Rinton-Har Line, fled for their lives with their protectors at hand. But then Greav-Hars, once sworn to keep their leaders safe, betrayed them to the Skia, and all was lost. What remained of the once protector line fled into the deepest reaches of the Great Gate, never to be seen again. Then, when all who had not been taken by the Skia had fled, the Gate closed and Death reigned.

Steve stared out over the destroyed landscape, tears running down his cheeks as he took in the full scope of the devastation. Everything had died. The grass and trees were husks of their former beauty, vine-covered and hideous. The sky had fallen dark, red lightning tearing across it every now and then to reveal even more horrors.

An agonized groan left the teen’s throat.

We remained without hope for many months until, at last, the one who had been designated our leader chose to seek out the last of the Great Seers. He found three of the remaining mages and, in the darkness of their hidden caves, he asked them for hope. In the form of a prophecy, they gave it. One day, the darkness would lift and the sun would return. A new Ælpha would arise to unite our people and bring the light with him.

The creatures painted a great picture across the wall of what was left of their home cavern. They used all that was left of their colors to bring the images to life. A great mural took shape, brilliant sunrise colors behind two hazy figures. The figures stood tall, weapons held high. The mural was blurred and hazy. Steve could only make out colors and vague forms, no details.

The Ælpha would come one day, that much was certain. With him would come the last of the Greav-Har Line, one who would set right the wrongs committed by his family. We have waited for centuries in our Darklands for this Prophecy to come to fruition, and we will continue to do so until it does. Now, little one, AWAKE.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve gasped as he jerked back into the World of the Wakeful. He felt shaky and uncertain what had just happened, but when he saw the creature standing before him, he no longer felt any fear.

All he could manage in the moment was a strangled, “Woah.”

The creature laughed.

Steve yelped, jerking back in surprise as she knelt before him. (She? How did he know she was a she?!)

“Hello, little Ælpha. I apologize for frightening you.”

She was talking. The eight foot tall monster from another dimension was talking to him. In English. He could understand her.

Steve felt his brain lowly shutting down, trying desperately to process the things happening around him and failing miserably. Finally, he just leaned back against the stone behind him and stared at her.

“I regret that I could not better warn you for what this would be like. The bond is often…volatile immediately after formation, but I promise the shock will pass.” For an instant, he could have sworn she smiled at him. “I am Euryale, the last of the Redclæs. I am your second in command until you choose a Beta for yourself, if you do so at all.”

Steve blinked.

Wait.

“Hold on, until I choose a Beta for myself?! Why would I do that?!”

Euryale laughed again, the sound oddly calming.

“You are the Ælpha now, little one.” She rose silently to her feet, watching him. “In your place of dwelling, you faced our past Ælpha and defeated him in combat. Before the coming of the Crimson Death, Ælphas in the Line of Rinton-Har inherited the honor of leadership from their fathers. After their line died out, Ælphas were chosen by combat. The strongest led until he—or she—was defeated by another. You defeated.”

“But…” Steve scrambled for anything to say, desperate to refuse this strange responsibility. Finally, all that came to mind was, “I’m…I’m human! I can’t lead you.”

Euryale nodded slowly, facial flaps trembling.

“Ordinarily, that would certainly cause problems. However…” She trailed off, a low purr rippling forth from her skeletal chest. Her claws flexed, an anxious motion, and Steve had the sudden feeling that she was debating whether or not to tell him something.

“You are not yet ready,” she sighed at last. “One day, you will be. But today you must simply believe me when I say you are our next leader. There is no other who could possibly stand in that place now. You fought, you won. There is nothing else to it.”

Steve wanted to press, mind reeling with questions, but something told him he should wait. He nodded slowly, willing to accept her answer. Euryale let out an approving rumble and suddenly turned to wave a hand back toward the opposite side of the chamber they were in. Steve followed the movement curiously and realized there were several tunnels carved into the earth.

“Where do those lead?”

The Terassian smiled again, the edges of her petals turning up slightly.

“Would you like to find out, Ælpha?”

“Yes. And my name is Steve Harrington.”

Chapter Text

Steve and Euryale walked the tunnels side by side as she showed him everything. Steve no longer felt fear when they crossed the path of other Terassians. Instead, there was a feeling of intense pride in the strength and size of his new-found people. They might have been warped and shattered after the Crimson Death, but they were still beautiful in their own way.

“Euryale?”

Steve pulled himself away from where he had been watching a ground of young Terassian pups play together and ran to catch up with the Redclæ. She turned toward him questioningly, head tilted slightly as she waited for his to speak again.

“How did I get here? And how did I end up healed? And how am I so much stronger than I used to be? I didn’t do that much training, did I?”

Euryale laughed, the sound bright and familiar as she walked beside him.

“Those are all excellent questions, young Steve. The first is the easiest to answer. I carried you.”

Steve blinked in surprise then nodded. That seemed reasonable, given how he had been unconscious. He suddenly remembered the Gates the kids had told him about.

“Did you use a Gate to get me here?”

“Yes.” Euryale sounded pleased that he knew about the Gates. She led the way to a small alcove and carefully drew Steve into its depths. The teen crawled in equally carefully and felt his breath leave him in a rush when he realized they sat perched directly above a huge cavern. Euryale allowed him a few moments of awe before she carefully sat next to him.

“You had other questions, I believe?”

Steve nodded eagerly and turned his gaze to her petalled face.

“You asked how it was that you were healed from your wounds. The answer may disgust you, but it is a natural part of our species.”

Steve waved a hand dismissively and replied, “I’m suddenly the Ælpha of a peaceful pack of monsters, I’m in a slime-covered alternate dimension full of other monsters that possibly want to eat me…” he laughed humorlessly, “I seriously doubt it will surprise me for long.”

Euryale nodded gently and continued.

“We call it Petal Tonic. Only the females can produce it, but it is our primary method of healing.” She fell silent for a few seconds, facial flaps shuddering gently for a moment before Steve caught sight of a thick, oily substance gathering at the tips of the lower petals. For an instant, he felt incredibly confused.

Then, “you spat on me?!”

Euryale seemed about to speak again, probably to disagree with his wording, but Steve cut her off by laughing. Somehow, he found the thought of a terrifying creature like Euryale using her saliva to heal hilarious. She did not seem to agree.

“It is not saliva,” she growled, clearly affronted, “and I did not spit on you. I merely allowed the Tonic to enter your wound and heal it.”

Steve bit down a cackle and leaned back against the wall.

“So you drooled on me. Po-tay-toe, poh-tah-toe, Euryale.”

The Redclæ grumbled softly in irritation before shaking herself and moving on. Steve snorted softly at the blatant change of subject.

“Your third question is a bit harder to answer, little Ælpha. You wanted to know how you became so strong over a short period of time.” The paused, petals trembling, and Steve had the same odd feeling that she was hiding something from him before she continued.

“There is no truly simple answer, but the simplest I can give is that your first altercation with an Aberrent triggered a complete change of your physical and mental state.”

“Wait, so it rewrote me somehow?”

Euryale nodded.

“In essence, yes. It woke something within you that had never been needed. I am…uncertain of the depths of the thing that awoke, but it was clearly enough to change you even on a physical level. I would not be surprised if you begin showing signs of superhumanity.”

Steve’s mind suddenly flashed back to his childhood days, when animals had flocked to him and been tamed effortlessly. The memories had been unwelcome for so long because of Tommy Hagan and his cruel words (“It’s inhuman, Harrington. Spending time with animals makes you look like a freak.”) but now Steve found himself wondering if he had never been truly human to begin with. It would certainly explain his strange boyhood habit of spending time with foxes and deer.

Steve shook himself out of his thoughts and looked back down at the cavern below, really taking it in now that his mind was no longer occupied.

The walls and ceiling were covered in faintly glowing mosses and stones, all in shades of amber and golden and crimson. The stone beneath the glow was the darkest black Steve had ever seen, and he finally understood why the place was called the Cave Afire. It really did look as though it was burning.

A sudden commotion from the entrance to the cavern distracted Steve from his thoughts and he leaned forward to watch a large group of Terassians rush in, panicked. A sharp prickle ran down the back of his neck as he watched them and he knew for a fact that something had happened on the surface. What it was, he had no idea. But he intended to find out.

Entirely without thinking, Steve swung his feet over the edge of the alcove’s ledge and dropped. It was nearly a three story fall, something that would usually have terrified him, and Euryale’s startled screech rang in his ears as he fell. His feet hit the ground hard and he ducked forward into a quick landing roll before bouncing back to his feet, heart pounding. He felt exhilarated after such a reckless action and something urgent in the way the Terassian’s moved drew him to them. He chose not to dwell on his own momentary stupidity.

“What happened?”

The creatures froze, facial petals quivering as they registered the presence of a human among them. None of them knew exactly how to respond to hearing him speak their language, but they all recognized the tone of an Ælpha. A low growl rumbled out of his chest, a question and a harsh urging rolled into one. One of the creatures stepped forward, head bowed as it (he, Steve noted absently as a male presence brushed momentarily against his mind) addressed him.

“We were ambushed, Ælpha. Over a dozen Aberrents. They are far too close to our territory, we did not see them until it was too late.”

A rush of something akin to anger flooded Steve’s mind and he growled, shifting lightly onto the balls of his feet as he considered his Pack member’s words. If Aberrents were encroaching on his territory, it meant they thought his Pack was growing weak. It meant there had not been any attempts to drive them back in a long time.

Steve turned away from the patrol and faced Euryale, who had rushed over to him shortly after his jump, churring in concern. He waved her off, having no time for her foolish worrying.

“Euryale, I want to see the surface. Take me there.”

A startled bark left her throat.

“Ælpha, you have only just entered your role among our people! Surely you will want more time to—”

“I wish to see my territory.” He cut her off. “Take. Me. There.”

Euryale gave him a sharp nod of assent before turning and leading the way down one of the tunnels. As they left the central cavern, Steve glanced back and called, “See to those who are injured and make sure they are cared for!”

Euryale led him quickly upward, the tunnels oddly familiar despite the fact that he had never been in them. They grew dirtier the higher they went and Steve could smell decay in the air as they reached the final level of winding halls. Euryale slowed considerably as they came into sight of the exit, chattering softly in anxiety.

Steve walked past her to the mouth of the tunnel, impatient, and looked out over his domain.

Everything was painted in shades of grey and black though occasional smatterings of white flashed through the skeletal trees and across the rot-covered ground. Steve caught a glimpse of crimson lightning tearing across the black-clouded sky and seconds later there was a crackling ripple of thunder. It looked and felt and sounded alien and yet so achingly familiar that Steve felt a questioning noise rise in his throat before he squashed it down.

Steve stood on the side of a mountain, looking down over a huge valley of stone and rotting trees. There were several other hilly ridges that he could see, but something told him those were not on his territory. The whole place felt dead and decaying, but Steve on,y gave the rot a cursory glance. He had business down in the valley. Euryale called after him fruitlessly, trying to stop him, but Steve ignored her in favor of slowly making his way down the mountain into the valley.

The trees thickened around him, vaguely reminiscent of the forests around Hawkins. About halfway down the mountain Steve had the horrifying realization that this place was actually an inaccurate copy of Hawkins, warped by what he could only imagine was centuries of decline. He kept a sharp eye on the things around him, not wanting to be jump-scared by anything in the trees.

He reached the open part of the valley with little issue and turned a full circle to take in his surroundings. Euryale had rushed out of the cave after him at some point and now stood just behind his left shoulder. Steve had a feeling his Beta would have stood to his right.

“Where’s the territory line?”

“The trees across the lake. There.” She pointed across an open expanse of vine-covered stone and sand. Steve realized that the flatness around them was actually the dried out bottom of a lake.

Lover’s Lake.

Steve knew this place. He had gone swimming in Lover’s Lake more times than he could count as a child. His first job had been life guarding on the beach over the summer. Seeing it so dry and dead was like some sort of shadowy nightmare.

Pushing thoughts of his living Hawkins out of his mind, Steve made his way across the open space to stand just outside the tree-line that made up his territory line.

“How far does my territory extend?” He spoke softly, not wanting to draw attention, but he could already feel eyes on him. There were Aberrents far too close to his land.

Euryale stepped forward and gestured back over her shoulder.

“The territory stops on the far side of that mountain and stretches for nearly a hundred miles on either side.”

“So small?” Steve felt oddly irritated at the discovery. “Are the Aberrents and their masters so strong? Or have your people become too cowardly to fight them off of the land that is rightfully yours?”

Euryale made an uncomfortable rumble that Steve ignored.

“Take this message back to your master,” he called into the trees, knowing they would hear him. “There is a new Ælpha of the Terassians. An Ælpha unafraid of the monsters lurking behind this territory line. I will not allow you to think you can simply approach this place without consequences and I assure you that I will not deal kindly with any who cross into my land. This is my territory, not yours, and I would suggest you remember it. Go back to whatever hole you crawled from and stay away from my land.”

He started speaking in a normal tone, but his last words were spoken in a roar. Thunder crackled as though in response to his words, angry and aggressive. He heard something move beyond the trees, then all was silent again. Steve sighed harshly and turned back toward his land.

“I want to go home, Euyale. How do I get back?”

The Redclæ turned and led the way back to the entrance to the Cave Afire. She did not speak as she led him down into the tunnels toward the Gate back to Hawkins, so he stayed silent as well. He felt oddly drained after his first genuine display of authority as the new Ælpha, but the feeling of having such authority to wield made him feel more confident. He knew for a fact that he would be returning to his new land as soon as possible.

Next time, he would bring his bat.

Chapter Text

It was odd, waking up in his own world after spending a full day in an alternate dimension.

Steve’s head ached dully, a steady pulsing throb that he realized sluggishly was the collective heartbeats of his entire Pack. He felt off-kilter and disconnected from the world. Despite the headache, he would have been uncertain if the events of the past few days had even happened if not for the gentle thrum of life at the back of his mind.

As Steve prepared for the day, he found himself turning everything over in his head on a loop. He had never meant to become embroiled in something like this, but here he was, the Ælpha of the greatest Terassian Pack in all the Darklands. It was his job to lead them.

He was seventeen! How was he supposed to lead an entire Pack of ancient beings from another world?!

By the time he was ready to leave the house for school, he felt only slightly less shaken. The drive to Hawkins High felt longer than usual.

Once he parked in his usual spot, Steve dragged himself into the building. He really did not want to be at school that day, but he had no choice. It was only the second month of classes after all and missing a day of school so early into the year would be terrible for his image. He had to be an upstanding student for the teachers and he had to set a good example for everyone else.

Wait, what?

Steve cut off his train of thought as he sat down at his homeroom desk. Since when had he ever done anything to set a good example for others? The idea felt so strange and foreign and yet it made a warm weight settle behind his ribs. A sort of pride that he could do such a thing without having to make much effort.

Steve had never truly been a good example for others, but as he pulled out a notebook and pencil, he realized that maybe this year was the time to start.

Perhaps first setting a good example for humans was the way to learn how to be a good Ælpha and a good guide to his new Pack.

Suddenly, the school day no longer seemed so daunting. He had a reason for being at his desk that morning.

He had an example to set.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that day, after school had let out and he had finished his homework (since when did he do that on time? He had never done that on time! It felt good to have it done on time), the troubled thoughts from that morning came rushing back into his head.

He stood stock still on his entryway rug, seconds away from a mental breakdown as he held one of his bats loosely in hand. He stayed frozen for what felt like a small eternity. Something about the weight of his weapon reminded him of everything he now had to shoulder and…it scared him.

He huffed, annoyed at his own brain, before deciding he was not going anywhere near the woods on his run. It would be one less reminder to worry about. He set his bat next to the front door, stepped out onto his porch, and started his jog down the road through his neighborhood.

Despite having intentionally taken the calmer route, the entire run was a mess of uncertainty and several small existential crises.

Steve lost track of time, running quite a bit farther than he usually did, before he heard someone calling his name and was dragged out of his own head.

“Steve! Steve, over here! I need to talk to you!”

Slowing to a walk, Steve turned and found himself staring at one of the middle schoolers from the group he had spoken to over the past few weeks. What was the kid’s name? He knew it was Something-Henderson but he could not for the life of him remember the exact name. Justin? Dusty? Dang it, what was it?!

“Hey, Henderson.” Steve decided to just go with the surname for now.

The kid raced over to him, eyes wide and full of barely concealed panic. Steve had the quiet thought that he was not the only person having a bad morning.

“I need your help. Do you still have that bat?”

Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion. What would the kid need with his spike bat?

“What bat?”

“You know,” Henderson rolled his eyes in irritation, “the one with the nails! Do you still have it?”

Steve nodded slowly.

“Okay, great! You might need it later, but for now I need your help. Come on!”

Steve followed the kid slowly, extremely confused by what was happening, but somehow certain it had to do with the Darklands. The boy led the way up to one of the houses along the road and Steve realized after a moment that it was the Henderson property. He opened his mouth to ask what they were doing outside the kid’s house, but was cut off when he started talking.

“So, a few days ago I found this little creature in a trash can, right? Well, it started growing and getting bigger, and I kept him in a fish tank and fed him nougat. He was pretty cute at first, and he sprouted legs after about five days after I found him. He looked a bit like a pollywog. A frog baby, I mean. Anyway, I didn’t think he’d get very big but just his morning he wasn’t in his fish tank and so I went downstairs to look for him and he was…huge. Like…dog sized, huge, with really leathery skin and super sharp claws. So, I got him to go into the clubhouse and trapped him in the clubhouse basement and, well, now I can’t get rid of him.”

Steve blinked.

The rambling had lasted for about a minute, the kid barely taking a single breath as he talked, and by the time he finished they had reached the clubhouse. Steve suddenly wished he had brought his bat and decided to do so next time, no matter where he went running.

Henderson slowly pulled open the door, movements cautious and clearly on edge, before he stepped in and led the way to the door near the back of the small building. Steve stopped moving, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end as he caught a whiff of something like burnt rubber and petroleum. It smelled of death and he recognized it.

“You sure it wasn’t a lizard?” It felt like a stupid question, but the scent could very well have just been a gas leak or something. It did not mean there was anything actually down there.

Hopefully.

Henderson gave him an unimpressed look.

“It wasn’t a lizard, Steve.”

“How can you be certain?”

“Because his face opened up and he ate my cat.”

Steve’s blood ran cold. That was definitely an Aberrant, the description matched and besides, there was no way a member of his Pack would leave one of their babies somewhere a human would find it.The young Ælpha leaned forward, listening for a moment as he tried to figure out if the creature was sleeping or not.

“I don’t hear anything.” He mumbled.

“He’s in there!”

Steve glanced back at the kid, fear and sudden anger flaring in his chest. He knew telling Henderson about the Pack was a terrible idea, but he had to get his feelings across somehow so, “listen kid, I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank—“

“It’s not a prank!”

Steve nodded sharply, satisfied with the answer and Henderson’s shaking voice. Glancing around, Steve reached out to pick up a massive wrench off of the nearby table. It felt awkward in his hands, but at least it would do some damage if push came to shove. Henderson carefully unlocked the cellar door and slowly pushed it open. It was dark and damp down there, and Steve could smell rot wafting up from the blackness.

Henderson picked up a nearby flashlight and pointed it into the darkness. Nothing moved and not a single sound could be heard.

“He must be further in there.” Henderson sounded uncertain, but Steve knew he was right. He stepped forward, wrench held in front of him, and Dustin called out shakily, “I-I’ll wait up here. In case he tries to escape.”

There was little the boy could do if the monster decided to run, Steve thought to himself. A creature like that could probably kill someone Dustin’s size with relative ease. The thought was a bit frightening.

Stepping into the darkness was not nearly as bad as it would have been a few days ago. He had discovered the night after coming back from the Darklands that his hearing and eyesight had improved significantly. He decided his new night vision was a side effect of his new bond with his Pack.

A low rumble left his throat as the smell of rotting earth and flesh grew stronger. The darkness in front of him was thickening, almost dark enough to physically touch, and he realized with a jolt of horrible dread that he was looking at the entrance to a tunnel of some sort. A closer look revealed vines and roots tangling around the edges and across the floor in front of his feet.

“Ah, great,” Steve grumbled softly, “this is just how I wanted to spend my Monday. Exploring Aberrant tunnels.”

Steve was so busy examining the edges of the tunnel that he failed to notice the soft footsteps moving up behind him until light suddenly and blindingly filled the space around him. A startled cry left his throat as he twisted around to face the source of the painful glow. There there stood Henderson, staring at the tunnel with abject terror on his face and something like recognition flickering in his eyes.

The kid had either seen one of these tunnels before or he had heard about them from someone else. Steve was uncertain which one, but he knew in that moment that all of the kids—not just Henderson—were his best source of information on what had been happening in Hawkins over the past few months. He just needed to get the story out of them.

Hawkins was his territory just as much as the Darklands were and something was threatening his lands. Steve would have none of it. He needed to know what was going on, no details barred.

“Henderson, we need to g—”

“Steve!” The kid cut him off with a panicked cry of his name, eyes going impossibly wider as he focused on something just past the tunnel’s entrance. The Ælpha twisted back toward the vine-infested blackness, wrench held high.

An adolescent Aberrant crouched in front of him, flowery face opened wide like some great dead flower, a growl rising to fill the air.

“Dart!”

Steve ignored Henderson’s cry in favor of lunging forward, a battlecry on his own tongue as he brought the wrench down hard, hoping to score a lucky hit. Something told him younger Aberrents were faster and more agile than the older ones, so he needed to move fast. He missed by a mile, the creature leaping away from him with a startled whine as he attacked.

Steve lifted himself back upright as quickly as possible and placed himself directly between Henderson and the dog-like creature. He held his arms out slightly from his sides, feet planted firmly, shoulders back, head held high. Steve refused to be intimidated by something half his size.

The Aberrant hunched, growling low in its throat, the sound more frightened than anything else.

“You are Ælpha?”

Steve responded with bared teeth and the softest rumble in his chest, one he made sure stayed inaudible to most humans. The creature flattened itself to the floor, cowering as it realized how outmatched it was, before it fled back into the dark. Steve relaxed only when he was certain it was gone.

“Come on, Henderson. We need to get out of here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later

Steve sat silently, trying to process everything the kids had just told him. He had ended up at the Byers’ house for their story.

The tunnels apparently spread a lot farther than he had anticipated they would, rotting crops as far away as ten miles outside of town. The Chief of Police had gotten himself lost in them just the night before and had only been pulled out a few hours ago.

To add another layer of horror to the already terrifying events around town, the boy who had originally ended up in the Darklands had been having visions and violent seizures. No one knew why, but when government scientists had tried burning the tunnels it made him collapse in agony. One of the other boys, Mike Wheeler, had gone with Will and his mother to help them if he could. Nancy and Jonathan were apparently involved too, a prospect that made Steve’s blood run cold.

The only thing Steve had trouble understanding was why the government was involved. Had they known about all this? Had they been the ones to start it? Steve had no idea, but it made him uncomfortable.

“So, you’re telling me that you have al been involved in this stuff from the beginning?”

Henderson (Dustin, Steve reminded himself now that he remembered the boy’s name) nodded and opened his mouth to launch back into another bout of enthusiastic story telling.

None of them understood what they were facing, did they?

Steve held up a hand to stop Dustin’s rant.

“That was a rhetorical question, sorry. I’m just trying to think through all this.”

Dustin fell silent and the kids watched him expectantly. Finally, he rose to his feet and started pacing.

One of the kids (Lucas, Steve thought) spoke up suddenly, voice frightened as he asked, “What are we going to do about Dart? I mean, we can’t just let him wander around, can we?”

“No, we can’t.” Steve thought for a moment, trying to come up with a solution, before a sudden rush of urgency overcame him, bubbling up inside his chest from something new and small that growled urgently. Something was wrong and he had to figure out a plan quickly.

“Don’t do anything tonight or tomorrow.” He ordered, giving the small group a fierce glare. “We need time to think and plan, and moving too quickly would just result in people getting hurt. I’ll be here the day after tomorrow with something, I promise.”

All the kids agreed without much issue, too anxious to do much else.

Steve had work to do.

Chapter Text

“Euryale, I need to learn how to hunt and kill Aberrants.”

The sudden declaration was met by shocked silence before Euryale turned to face him, flowery face trembling.

“You cannot be serious, Ælpha. You only just came into this position!”

Steve snorted softly under his breath and examined a chip in the wood of his spike bat.

“If I remember correctly,” he murmured, “we had a nearly identical conversation a few days ago when I wanted to see my territory and you believed I was incapable of taking care of myself. You do remember how that ended, don’t you?”

Euryale grumbled softly, but relented.

Ten minutes later, Steve stood alongside three other Terassians just inside the surface tunnel’s mouth. His companions all glanced around anxiously. They seemed overly cautious for such powerful beasts and Steve was the first to step out of the Cave entrance. The other three rushed out after him, chattering worriedly at him.

“Ælpha, respectfully, you must always watch the sky before leaving the Cave Afire! You could be attacked otherwise.”

Steve glanced back at his bodyguards and gave them all a searching look. Euryale had not mentioned anything when they left the Cave Afire a few days before, but if his companions were so concerned about whatever they said came from above, perhaps he should be as well. He was going out to his territory to learn, after all.

A quick glance at the dark sky reassured him that nothing dangerous was coming at them and he sped to a jog as they descended the mountain.

He was going to begin reclaiming his territory that day.

They reached the basin of Lover’s Lake with no issues and the Terassians with him immediately made him stop before leaving the trees.

“Wait!”

“What?!”

“Hush!”

Steve froze at the tone, eyes darting skyward as he remembered his companion’s earlier words.

“What is it? What’s up there?”

“Iptamena. Fliers.”

The way the hunter spoke, terror in his voice, send chills down Steve’s spine. What could be terrifying enough to scare a Terassian?!

They waited, watching the clouds for several long minutes before they started moving again. In the time they stood still, Steve asked the names of his companions.

Ouli had a large chunk taken out of his upper left facial flap. He was apparently the oldest among them and so the designated teacher. Steve thought he was a bit overprotective, but appreciated the dedication.

Dromeas was thinner than the other two, body narrow and wiry. He looked built for speed and a few questions confirmed that he was indeed the fastest one among the Pack. He had a pleasant air about him, gentle but dangerous, that Steve found comforting. He seemed like he would know exactly what to do in an emergency.

Sithyros was the only female of their group. She spoke in soft murmurs whenever she spoke at all and it took Steve a full thirty seconds of staring at her to realize her neck had been torn open at some point in her life. The fact that she spoke at all was a miracle.

The three worked as a single unit and apparently had for as long as they could remember. Steve was impressed by how fluidly they moved together. He had no doubt they would be a formidable trio in battle and was very pleased Euryale had chosen them to go on the hunt with him.

He needed strong hunters for what was to come.

As they started moving again, feet silent as they crossed the lake basin, Steve heard an almost metallic shriek suddenly fill the air behind them. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Iptamena!” Dromeas hissed. “They must have been roosting in the trees!”

The other two Terassians quickly circling to protect their Ælpha as they sped up into a sprint.

Steve glanced back over his shoulder, eyes searching the clouds for any signs of the so-called Fliers. He caught a single glimpse of something bat-like before he was forced to look forward again. Another shriek filled the air and Sithyros split off to slash at something in the air.

“Too late,” Ouli roared, “we must face them!”

Steve swung around, weapon already up as he prepared himself for an attack. He was not expecting something leathery to wrap around his neck from behind and yank, but suddenly he was on his back and he could not breathe.

Dromeas rushed forward to help as Steve clawed at his throat, desperately struggling to get in air, but the Terassian was distracted by another Iptamena descending from above.

“There are multiple flocks of them!” Ouli called from where he had just swiped another out of the sky. “We have to flee!”

Steve tried to call out for any sort of help, only to catch sight of Sithyros battling one of her own monsters. She had the creature’s tails held tightly in her grip as they wrapped around her throat, keeping them from strangling her. As Steve watched, she dragged the sinewy tails away from her throat by lifting them over her head so that she could reach back and shred its body with her claws.

Determination cut through the terror clouding Steve’s head. This was his chance to learn how to fight them.

He slipped his fingers under the tails around his neck before pulling hard, dragging the offending appendage up toward his mouth. He was fully aware that he was about to bite something potentially disgusting, but found himself too desperate for oxygen to care. He got his jaw around the thing, shifting his grip so that he could hold it more firmly, and bit down hard enough to split skin and muscle.

A shrill screech sounded from above his head and a rush of something warm and oily filled his mouth. Yes, it was disgusting. No, he was not letting go.

Rolling, he flipped onto his belly before spitting the tail out, never loosening his grip on it. He lurched upright, swinging the beast over his head with all his strength as he got his feet under him. It hit the ground with a sickening splat, wings splaying limply as it was stunned. Steve dragged it back and swung down again, over and over just like Sithyros had done. Finally, when it was barely twitching, he planted a foot on its back and yanked, ripping the creature completely in two.

His hunting party watched him in what he could only call awe and he lifted his head proudly, exhilarated by the short fight.

“Thank you, Sithyros.”

She trilled, the sound startled but incredibly happy, and Steve laughed. Ouli picked up one of his own kills and separated the tails from the body with a practiced twist before quickly swallowing them.

‘Huh.’ Steve thought quietly. ‘I guess it’s like…like Darkland calamari.’

He still had the taste of the Iptamena’s blood in his mouth from when he had bitten it. It was not really too terrible now that he had a chance to process it so, after watching the others separate the tails from their kills, he carefully imitated them. Eating the tails in one go was impossible for him, so he decided to risk it and bite the end off of one.

It was basically like eating an octopus, all rubbery and muscled. It tasted a bit earthy and, surprisingly enough, a bit like the sweet shoots of grass that Steve had loved chewing on as a child. It was actually surprisingly good.

Besides, Steve had eaten weirder things (he thought back to the slug he’d eaten on a dare in middle school and shuddered).

A pleased rumble left his chest and he took another, larger bite before continuing the trek toward the woods. His three companions followed, watching him in amazement as he finished the smallest of the tentacles. He offered the others to Sithyros as a thank-you for indirectly saving him.

She accepted with a respectful bow of her head.

They reached the woods nearly ten minutes after they had planned to but Steve, still feeling a bit giddy after his encounter with the Fliers, could not have cared less.

He knew how to hunt and kill the Iptamena now! Who knew when that would come in handy.

A sort of thrilling excitement ran through him as they reached the territory line, making his blood thunder in his ears.

He was about to have his first big battle since killing the Ælpha who had been his predecessor.

Ouli led them along the territory line for several miles, clearly not wanting to risk any confrontations immediately. Steve allowed it only because it gave him a chance to really look at the edge of the land that the Aberrants had stolen from his people.

Everything seemed even more dead and slimy than on the Terassian side and he saw several things move without being able to identify them. The air felt colder too, a dry sort of cold that felt like tiny needles on his skin. It was as though the Aberrants could not stand any form of heat.

Remembering what he had been told about Will’s reaction to the tunnels burning, Steve figured that perhaps they couldn’t.

As they continued their patrolling, Steve realized the he himself barely felt the cold. Usually, he would have broken out in goosebumps and full-body shivers after so long in the icy air, but he felt fine. Where the cold would normally sap his strength and leave him exhausted, he actually felt invigorated as they kept going.

“Ælpha.”

Ouli’s murmur tore him away from his thoughts.

“Yes, Ouli?” Steve matched the soft tone, suddenly aware of how still everything had become.

“We can go no further. We risk running up against the Skia Elenkti’s lands and you are far from ready for that meeting.

Steve nodded quietly, accepting the word of his companion without arguing. He was ready to circle back anyway.

They looped back around to the lake basin, Steve’s excitement growing again as they drew closer to their destination. Finally, as close to the Cave Afire as possible in case anything went wrong, they crossed into Aberrent territory.

There was an instant shift in the air as everything fell deathly silent. Even the soft sounds of the Terassian side faded away. The temperature plummeted, yet Steve noticed he could not see his breath.

He figured it was either an Ælpha thing, or the air was simply too dry and cold for his breath to condensate.

They had been creeping along, deeper and deeper into enemy territory, for maybe twenty minutes before Ouli suddenly froze. Steve’s bat swung up immediately in preparation.

“Two Aberrants,” Ouli hissed softly, “straight ahead of us.”

Steve caught a glimpse of something moving through the trees, forms willowy and deadly. A growl started low in his throat, instinct and some sort of foreign knowledge telling him automatically to threaten the new adversaries. Sound carried well in the silent air and the two creatures turned toward them almost instantly.

A hissing roar left the throat of one, a wordless threat of violence, and Steve responded with an Ælpha roar of his own.

It was time to begin reclaiming what was his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours and several dozen dead Aberrants later, Steve felt as though he had been hit by a bus. Every muscle in his body ached dully, the worst pain radiating from the deep gash across his back from when he grew careless. It hurt considerably when he moved, but the knowledge that Euryale could heal it made the pain slightly more bearable.

They reached the Cave Afire far more quickly than he had thought they would and Euryale was waiting.

“What happened?” She sounded more bored than genuinely worried. Steve snorted in amusement.

“I’m glad to see you’re concerned, Eury.”

She let out an affronted noise at the nickname and Steve failed to find it in himself to care as he turned to let her see the damage. He himself had no idea how bad it was but her hiss of surprise told him it was most likely down to the bone. The cold from the lower forest had numbed it enough though that he only felt stabbing pain when he moved wrong.

Euryale moved forward quickly, one clawed hand settling around his shoulder as she pushed him down to his knees.

“This will hurt,” she explained, “and it is best if you sit before you fall.”

Steve nodded tiredly. He just wanted the pain gone.

He felt warm liquid hit his back after only a few moments of waiting, quickly followed by quite possibly the worst pain of his life. Of course, Steve remembered what Euryale had told him about the pain, but that knowledge made it no easier to bear.

Steve was distantly aware of someone screaming hoarsely. He realized a moment later that it was him.

The pain lasted for an agonizing ten seconds before suddenly fading and Steve slumped sideways against Euryale’s waiting hands.

Steve panted breathlessly for several minutes before slowly getting himself under control. He sat back up carefully, rolling his shoulders to test them.

“That…” he puffed out a breath, “that will take some getting used to.”

“It will become easier to bear as time goes on,” Euryale reassured him, “though the pain will always be present during a healing.”

“Yeah, no pain no gain, I got it.” Steve chuckled and pushed himself to his feet. “It’s good to know it doesn’t last very long though even with serious injuries. It’ll be nice to just heal after something like that, instead of having to wait for a month or longer.”

Euryale shook her head in exasperation.

“You humans are so very impatient.”

“And you Terassians are too serious!” Steve laughed.

There was little Euryale could say to refute that and she nodded agreeably as they walked back toward the central cavern.

Chapter Text

After Steve’s night of hunting, he and Dustin laid a trap for the Aberrents.

They spent an entire Saturday wandering around the outskirts of Hawkins, dropping chunks of meat in a very obvious trail all the way to the old junkyard. It was, perhaps, the dumbest plan the youngsters could have come up with given how many of the creatures Steve knew there were, but they had been determined. So, raw-meat-trail it was.

Now, it was midnight and Steve was completely certain this had been a terrible idea.

The kids had agreed to stay away from the junkyard until two nights after laying the trail and Steve had stupidly decided to trust them. He was never blindly trusting them with something so serious ever again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eight hours earlier

Steve really did not mind spending a ton of time with the kids. They were great, no matter what all the other jocks said, and Steve found himself giving girlfriend advice to Dustin of all people. The kid clearly looked up to him, Steve would have had to be blind to miss it.

They walked along the train tracks just outside of town, chatting and dropping chunks of raw meat every couple of yards. Steve found himself mildly annoyed by the bright yellow gloves he had to wear (he had eaten a monster from another dimension after killing it with his bare hands for goodness sake, germs probably died on contact with him now) but he put up with them because Dustin insisted.

When Dustin started asking about relationship advice, Steve felt a slight prick of amusement in the back of his mind. It was quickly stifled but he recognized Sithyros’ chuffing laugh even though he could not hear it. His connection with the Pack had just been growing stronger, allowing him to actually feel some of their emotions at random times. It was always a bit surprising.

An Ælpha as great as yourself should never lower to the level of a Child-Carer.

It was most certainly not his thought that rang through his head and Steve bit back a growl.

Shut up, Euryale.

He humored Dustin and firmly ignore Euryale’s faint disapproval.

When the boy asked how Steve got his hair to stand up the way it did, the teen decided after a moment of hesitation to tell the truth. The result was disbelief and laughter from Dustin but Steve could not have cared less.

(Something deep inside him preened when he made the kids laugh, some deep need to shelter and protect. An Ælpha instinct, perhaps?)

They reached the junkyard after a full two hours of walking and Steve nodded a bit as he dropped the lat of the meat and took it all in.

“Yeah, this’ll do great,” He murmured softly, “it’s perfect.”

Dustin seemed to agree.

Twenty minutes later, Steve had his hands on his hips as he firmly told Dustin to stay away from the junkyard until two days later. He grumbled about it but eventually agreed. Steve felt skeptical but lacked the energy to care quite as much as he usually would have. He was exhausted after hours of non-stop walking.

He got home at about six as the sun was just going down. He was painfully glad it was a Friday and he had no homework for that day. He ate dinner sluggishly, showered even more sluggishly, then all but dragged himself to his bedroom where he promptly collapsed into sleep.

Hours later, he woke to a loud screeching echoing in his ears. Something was very wrong.

A quick glance at his clock told him it was almost midnight and Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion. Why had he woken? He shook his head a bit at himself and rolled over to go back to sleep until his alarm went off.

A horrific shriek tore into his ears, echoing across the silent town, and Steve sat bolt upright in bed.

Aberrant!

A panicked little cry tore out of his throat and Steve hit the ground running. He changed into jeans, a t-shirt, and his jacket as fast as possible before sprinting down the stairs into the foyer. Throwing on his shoes and grabbing his bat, Steve threw the door open and ran.

Somehow, deep down, Steve knew the kids were in trouble. Dustin had not listened to him, and now he and whoever else he had roped into following him were in danger.

(That thing that preened when they laughed now let out a screech of its own and threatened death to anything standing between it and its children.)

Steve raced out toward the junkyard, fully aware that the shrieks were rising in volume and number. A wild panic filled his chest and he sped up, pushing past his usual limits in his determination to get to the kids in time. His legs throbbed as he forced himself to run faster than he ever had and he realized very suddenly that he was running far faster than any human.

Of course you are. You are the Ælpha. You must lead the Pack into battle and out on the hunt. To move slowly would be an affront to your nature.

Euryale’s voice cut into his mind like red-hot razor blades, painful and angry. She clearly did not know how slow humans were supposed to be. She must have heard his thought because a mere second later: of course I know, fool Ælpha! You were one for a time!

WERE?! Steve mentally barked in alarm. What do you mean, ‘were one?!’ I’m still human!

Euryale did not respond, either having not heard him or deciding she had said too much. Steve growled in irritation at his current second-in-command’s continued obstinance and focused on running. If he lost his footing at his current speed he knew for a fact that bone would break.

As he reached the junkyard, Steve forced himself to slow down to a normal, human speed. The Aberrant pups were screeching louder now and under it Steve cold finally hear the kids, desperate screams of panic cutting through the night air like knives. A roar left Steve’s throat before he could stop it and he barreled into the junkyard with his bat held high.

There were six of the monsters, all gathered around an old school-bus, and Steve brought his bat down on one of their heads as hard as possible before it even had time to turn around. The others spun to face him, faces splitting open, only to realize exactly who—or what—he was. A startled squawk left the leader’s throat only to be cut off as Steve swung his bat up into the underside of its head.

The remaining four glanced at each other, chattering softly in their monstrous version of baby babbling, before pouncing forward as one. Steve hit the first hard enough to send it flying (the kids cheered and the thing in his chest roared proudly) before leaping back to get the high ground standing on the hood of an old car. A sizable piece of sharp metal hung across the car’s roof and Steve reached over to grab it just in time for one of the remaining three to lunge at him and get itself impaled.

Four down, two to go.

The two charged at him together, low to the ground and reckless without their leader. Steve dropped on top of them, crushing their necks with both his weight and a few well-placed swings of his bat.

A quick glance around told him all six were dead but he could hear others calling out in the near distance.

Euryale, now would be a great time to send help. I’ve got a whole bunch of kids to look after and I will literally let myself be eaten if it means they get out alive. So, if you want me alive in the morning, send Ouli, Dromeas, and Sithyros!

An affirming nudge prickled the back of his mind and Steve ran toward the bus. The kids already had the door open and ready as he leapt in and he quickly kicked it shut behind him. He glanced back at the group behind him and did a quick tally.

Dustin, Lucas, unknown red-head girl—wait, what?

“Who’re you?”

Dustin let out a shocked noise.

“Dude!” The squawk he let out would have sounded like a Terassian pup’s cry for food if Steve had been distracted. “You just killed at least six of those things with nothing but a bat with nails in it and all you’re worried about is who she is?!”

“YES!” Steve yelled back, suddenly angry. Something slammed into the door and he dropped onto the exit stairs to press his feet against it. “For all I know, she’s lost and her family is searching for her or, worse, getting eaten! Who is she?!”

“Firstly, that’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think? Secondly, her name’s Max. We told you about her, remember?” Dustin had the audacity to sound irritated. Steve felt a claw bite into his ankle and mentally screeched at Euryale to hurry up before he turned his attention back to the children.

Max, Max, Max—yes!

Steve did remember them telling him about her, the fiery red-head from California who moved with her mom, step-dad, and bully of an older step-brother. Steve had a vague memory of her last name too. Hargrove. He knew that name.

“William Hargrove is new in town, please say hello to him,” Mrs. O’Donnell had said, as if they were children at daycare. Steve remembered watching the fire in angry blue eyes scorch the entire classroom as the new boy walked in. The blue reminded him of the sharp color of a clear morning sky right before it stormed. Biting and dangerous.

So this was Billy Hargrove’s sister.

“Hi, Max.” Steve grunted out as another monster hit the door.

Euryale!

A responding shriek echoed through his mind, a sort of non-verbal cry to have patience.

Steve was out of patience.

EURYALE, NOW!!

The mental roar felt impossibly loud and the reply was an instant of hushed shock quickly followed by the most frantic rush of panic he had ever experienced. The kids were screaming and there was a horrible rushing in his ears for a few long moments then…silence.

Steve froze, feet still pressed against the door, and waited. He cold hear the soft thumps of feet hitting damp earth and felt Sithyros brush inquisitively against his mind. He responded with a soft wave of reassurance before relaxing slowly and pulling his injured leg up under himself to hide it.  His ankle throbbed dully but the kids were more important at the moment, so he ignored it.

“Are…are they gone?” Lucas whispered shakily.

Steve shuffled forward to peer out into the dark.

Sithyros. Is it safe?

A soft fluttering sensation was his only response, a nonverbal affirmation of safety that left Steve feeling boneless and exhausted.

Good. Thank you.

He sighed and sank back against the bus stairs. All of the kids stared speaking at once.

“Dustin said it was safe if we came and hid in here and—“

“I just came along because they said they wanted me to see something—“

“It was safe in here, nothing was gonna happen—“

That thing in Steve’s chest rose up and shrieked furiously.

“What. Were. You. Thinking?” He hissed the words through his teeth, low and deadly, and the bus fell eerily silent. Steve swept his bat up carefully and shoved himself upward to intentionally tower over the kids, specifically Dustin. He knew who the ringleader here had been.

“Do you even hear yourselves? You could have been killed, did you ever stop and think about that?!” He glanced over all of them before focusing back on Dustin. He stepped forward, forcing Dustin back a step, and raised his voice. “You disobeyed something I told you simply because, what, you don’t know the meaning of the words ‘be patient?!’ You thought nothing of how others would feel if something happened to you—and something would have happened, Dustin—had I not been here! You would all be dead if I had not been in the area!

“Your mom would get a phone call about her stupid son getting ripped to shreds by some mutant dogs because he didn’t have the sense to wait until there was an adult present! Lucas’ family would be getting a similar call with the news that their son died going along with his friend’s stupid plan because his friend is an idiot! And the Hargroves would get the news that not even two weeks after moving to a new town, their daughter is gone!

“Stop and think, Henderson! If you did that once in a while instead of just leaping headfirst into things after making up some nonsense, calling it a plan, and saying you’re prepared, life is going to show you very quickly that no you are NOT prepared and you never were! Don’t you ever do something as stupid as this again, am I clear Henderson?”

Dustin, Lucas, and Max all stood frozen. Slowly, Dustin nodded, brown eyes full of tears as Steve paused for an answer. The Ælpha nodded sharply, satisfied he had gotten his point across, and turned to face the other two.

“Now, you two, I understand Dustin was the leader in this, but you both went along with it. Lucas, you knew perfectly well that the creature was dangerous and could easily kill you. You could have told Dustin no! And Max, while I know you are new here and probably only know the basics of what’s going on in this own, you still should not have gotten involved.”

Steve stopped talking abruptly and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, exhausted and aching after the long night. He heard the kids apologize and make promises he doubted they would keep, and decided he had no energy left. He suddenly felt bad about some of the things he had said during his angry rant.

“Dustin,” he looked over at the boy as he spoke, “I’m sorry for calling you stupid, you are not stupid. Some of your ideas are a bit stupid, but you are not. Just a bit impulsive.” Dustin nodded quietly and scrubbed at his teary eyes.

“Come on, kids. We’re going home. I’m exhausted, you’re all clearly tired as well, and I’d rather not have to worry about facing any more monsters tonight.”

The kids nodded in agreement and Steve turned to limp his way to the door, no longer caring if they saw he was injured. He was done being the Ælpha that night. Now he was just Steve.

Tired, aching, injured Steve who was already so painfully exhausted by everything falling apart in his life.

That something in his chest whined pitifully, achingly sad as it whispered stories of the agonizing years of war to come. Steve recognized it now for what it was: the instincts of an Ælpha, woken in the heart of a barely-seventeen-year-old who had only wanted to atone for his wrongdoings the night all this started.

For the first time, Steve almost wished he had died during that fight against his predecessor.

He had never wanted to become a child king.

Chapter Text

Monday felt as though it would never end.

Steve felt wrung out by the time gym class started. He was so glad gym was the last class of the day.

They were playing basketball.

Basketball, much like swimming, had always been oddly relaxing to him and now was no different, even with his mind still full of the battle from two nights before. Coach divided them up and Steve tossed the ball around with his designated teammates, warming up and prepping. He easily settled into the rhythm of being the chosen team leader, heart rate steadying as he fell into the leading role.

It was rather like being an Ælpha, he thought to himself as he shot a practice goal. He had to lead his team to victory while at the same time relying on them to help get there. When they were out on the court, they were intertwined, a part of one another, bound by the sweat and tears they shed together.

It made Steve’s blood sing with a battle song so ancient time itself had forgotten the words.

The start of gym that day was pretty average, as far as gym went, but then Steve noticed one of his teammates hanging on the outside of the group. He blinked.

Was that kid new?

A closer look confirmed that, yes, it was a new kid, albeit a familiar one. Billy Hargrove.

Surprise flickered through him and he almost missed a pass from Tommy.

“Harrington!” Coach yelled, “Head in the game!”

Steve almost snorted. He had been doing fine until that moment, but then again Coach did like yapping at them for small mistakes. It made them stronger.

He focused back on the game and for a time completely forgot Hargrove was there.

Until the two of them body-slammed as Steve moved to catch the ball, that is.

The Ælpha hit the ground hard, breath leaving him in a low whoosh. He caught his breath quickly and blinked in surprise as a hand appeared in his field of vision. Hargrove’s eyes looked flinty and Steve worried for a moment that their collision had injured the other boy. He reached up to take the proffered hand, expecting to be heaved up and at most be given a friendly thump on the shoulder, but suddenly Hargrove was right there, leaning down over him.

“You were moving your feet. Plant them next time.”

Steve blinked as his hand was released and he flopped back to the ground.

What the heck?

Steve scrambled to his feet, blood rushing in his ears as his instincts growled (how dare this interloper treat him in such a way), only to have his outrage doused with what felt like a bucket of ice water.

Billy Hargrove was covered in scars.

To the untrained eye they looked almost invisible, well-healed and many of them covered, but Steve had seen enough scars in his short time as an Ælpha to recognize them. Seeing so many on a normal human was…alarming. They were all different sizes and shapes, but Steve recognized a few of them for what they were.

Was that a cigarette burn mark?!

Hargrove had been (or is still being, his instincts whispered) abused.

Steve doubted the other boy would allow or tolerate any sort of help if Steve offered. The other teen seemed far more likely to punch those trying to help him and Steve had a feeling that was for good reason. Hargrove had most likely been indirectly hurt by someone trying to help and the aggression would deter possible troublemakers.

It would keep Hargrove untouchable.

Until he got home, at least.

Steve’s stomach twisted uncomfortably as he shook off their encounter.  Something about the other boy seemed stifled, as though he had learned to hide himself beneath a shield of false charm and fake smiles. Steve had no doubt that was the case, but it still made him oddly jumpy.

He watched Hargrove for a few long minutes, hovering around the edges of the game to regain his bearings. The other boy was quick on his feet and clearly strong, moving with an easy grace that looked remarkable feline. He scored three goals in the time it took Steve to move back to the middle of everything.

(This is a warrior. His instincts whispered. With time, he could be part of the Pack.)

Steve listened quietly to his instincts but told them to wait. If Hargrove was Pack material, it would be revealed in time.

He rejoined the game at last and scored a few more goals before gym ended. Hargrove glared at him a few times when he got too close, but somehow it made Steve think of a small dog barking at a larger one. The ferocity was more to keep possible threats at bay than to actually harm.

Steve still planted his feet though, the next time Hargrove came at him.

His team won.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The locker room was…awkward.

Ordinarily, Steve had no problem being around the other boys, but that day it felt almost impossible. There was a stifling sort of energy in the air and Steve knew subconsciously that something had shifted in the way everyone saw him.

What it was he had no idea…but he knew it was important.

Tommy slunk around, annoying as ever, and Steve watched him sidle up to Hargrove more than once only to be shooed off like a fly. For some reason, Tommy’s loyalties had shifted.

“Psst, Patrick!” Steve hissed over at the basketball team captain, trying to catch the other boy’s attention without drawing too much attention

“What?”

“What’s going on? Something happened, I can tell, but I’m not sure what.”

Patrick laughed, a sneering sort of thing that made the hair on the back of Steve’s neck stand on end.

“Hawkins has a new keg king, Harrington, didn’t you hear? Hargrove has taken the throne.”

Steve blinked.

Of all the things he expected Patrick to say, that was not it.

Hargrove was the new keg king? When had that happened?

Steve slipped into his own head as he showered off. He had become so wrapped up in everything happening with the Pack and the kids that he had completely lost his grip on the high school politics. He had fallen from grace and not even realized it was happening until now, as he hit the ground and shattered into a million pieces for the other kids to step on.

The water turned off suddenly and Steve blinked back into reality, soap still in his hair. Hargrove stood, smirking at him as he pulled away from the water spigot. The expression seemed mocking yet Steve could see something strange in the new boy’s blue eyes.

He looked lost.

Steve flicked the water back on with a snort and scrubbed the rest of the soap out of his hair. He had barely finished when Hargrove flicked the water off again and left.

Steve could already tell that he and the Californian were not going to get along very well.

(His instincts kept screaming at him though, he could be Pack! Just wait. He will be Pack.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Can you take us to the arcade?”

Dustin looked painfully hopeful as he looked up at Steve and the Ælpha sighed softly.

“Who’s ‘us,’ Henderson?”

“Me, Lucas, and Max.”

Steve huffed out a laugh and nodded in agreement.

“Alright.”

Over the past few days, Steve had gotten to know Max much better.

She was bold enough to even intimidate Steve and she spoke her mind without letting anyone speak over her. She had quite a mouth and was not afraid to use it, but her manner of snapping at others was oddly affectionate. She was generally easier to get along with than the elder Hargrove.

Steve trusted her.

She settled in effortlessly with the rest of the group (the Party, Dustin insisted) and was the only person besides Steve who could keep Dustin from doing dumb things without thinking. Steve left her in charge many times in the days after the junkyard fight, always certain he would come back and find everyone behaving.

The days after the junkyard were miserable.

Bullying from Hargrove and others did not help anything, and Steve woke several times in the nights after, heart pounding and ears ringing with phantom shrieks. It usually took him a few minutes to calm down.

He discovered that patrolling the edge of his property line helped the anxiety. He would climb out of bed, usually wearing nothing but his boxers and sleep shorts, and would slip out of the house to jog around for a while. More than once he heard things calling out in the night, the far-off screeches of Aberrant pups echoing through the trees in the darkness.

Steve was growing more and more certain that something big was stirring in Aberrant territory.

He chose to push it away for a while, perfectly happy to spend time with his kids during the day and ignore the horrors growing across his territory line. Steve wondered when he had started calling the kids “his.”

Did it matter? No. It felt right.

Steve shuttled them to and from the arcade and each other’s houses, content to listen to their bickering and ignore the low rumbles of his still-new instincts. Sometimes, if his mind refused to be quiet, Steve would even join in their little arguments.

He grew to love getting talked over and yelled at by multiple indignant voices.

Steve began to notice little things about the kids, details that he never would have noticed unless he was paying attention.

He noticed that Lucas looked at Max as though she held all the stars in her eyes, wholly focused on her whenever she spoke. Max was much the same, bright eyed and excited when Lucas was around. Steve found himself growing concerned for both of them, not because he thought they were going to get hurt by each other (though that was always possible), but because he had the sneaking suspicion that Billy would be very against their friendship.

He noticed how Dustin and Lucas were practically joined at the hip, always doing everything together no matter what. They were brothers in all but blood and Steve felt some sort of aching pain in his chest every time he saw them laughing together. Seeing two middle schoolers, so young and innocent, play together as though they had not a care in the world…it made Steve’s heart ache for his lonely younger self.

He noticed how easily Dustin adjusted to having a new person in the group. He asked Max’s opinion on everything, no matter what the thing was, and would accept her advice without much questioning. It was one of the many reasons Steve was growing to respect Max.

Most of all, Steve noticed how secretive the three were around him. They seemed to think they were clever and capable of hiding things from him, but they were truly horrible liars and Steve had walked in on them changing topics enough times to know something was going on.

He truly hoped it had nothing to do with the growing darkness in the Darklands, but his instincts screamed of a correlation and…his instincts had yet to be wrong about such a thing.

He just hoped they would stay safe when the hammer fell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Welcome back, Ælpha!”

Sithyros was a welcome sight as Steve stepped through the Gate to the tunnels. He grinned up at her, bumping his shoulder gently against her arm in the manner of all Terassian greetings. She chattered softly, pleased to see him, and ld the way up toward the central cavern.

Steve hoped the novelty of the Cave Afire would never fade. Stepping into the fiery colored cavern always made awe rise within him and he had already spent several hours just examining the walls and ceiling. That day he simply gave the room a cursory glance before walking over to Euryale.

She had called him for something.

“Hello, Eury.” He grinned and moved to bump against her, but a sharp spike of warning ran through his head and he froze. “Eury, is everything alright?”

“Do not call me that, Ælpha, please.” Her voice was soft as she hid her words from the others. “And do not greet me or anyone else in that manner. It is not befitting of your station.”

Steve snorted.

“If I choose to greet my people in that manner,” he replied sharply, “you will mind your own business. I won’t do it to you, but I will not be a distant Ælpha to my Pack.”

Euryale let out a put-upon sigh before turning and leading the way back into the tunnels.

“You are most likely wondering why I called you.”

“Yeah, I am.” Steve nodded. “It’s not exactly normal for you to call me right after school.”

“My apologies, I did not realize you had just finished.”

Steve waved her off.

“It’s fine, I wanted to be here anyway. You just gave me a reason to be. Now, what’s going on?”

A low chatter left Euryale’s throat. She sounded extremely anxious about something.

“Perhaps it would be best if I simply showed you. There is no way to accurately describe it.”

Steve furrowed his brow questioningly but followed along silently. A few other Terassians joined them as they walked, all eerily silent. It made Steve tighten his grip on his bat, ready for some sort of fight. They reached the highest level of tunnels and Steve felt dread fill his Pack bond like ice water.

Euryale stopped a few paces away from the tunnel exit and churred nervously. Steve paused just long enough to glance back at his Pack before he moved forward again, slowly.

At first glance, nothing seemed wrong outside the tunnel.

Then, far away on the horizon, crimson lightning lit up a huge, shadowy thing. It was only for an instant but Steve’s blood ran cold.

“Euryale,” he hissed, “what is that?”

She chattered softly for a moment before replying, “that is the Skia Elenkti. The Shadow of Condemnation. That is the Warden’s Beta.”

Steve felt an inexplicable sense of dread wash over him and he froze, cowering. Somehow, he knew it was looking right at him. The ground trembled minutely and lightning flashed again, lighting up the creature once more. It was closer than before, body more defined against the clouds and trees.

Four great spindly legs, the ends split into what looked like long fingers, carried the great beast slowly along. A fifth leg appeared to anchor it to the ground like a giant tail. It’s body was strangely insect-like and when it turned it’s head a massive horn was revealed. It moved surprisingly fast for something bigger than a ten-story building and Steve took a shaking step back.

A sound filled the air around him suddenly and he felt the rest of the Pack recoil and flee. Even Euryale fled back down the tunnels to safety in the face of that sound.

A chattering, purring, rumbling groan that rose into a purring, metallic shriek echoed around him and Steve dropped into a crouch, too terrified to do anything else. He could see it clearly now and watched it take another step toward him. It stopped over Lover’s Lake, and Steve trembled.

That call came again, more warbling this time, and Steve felt a chattering whimper rise in his throat in response. The beast never looked away from him.

Go away. Steve’s mind whispered the words in terror, hoping the beast would listen. Please, please go away.

The Skia Elenkti called out again and this time, deep within the sound, Steve realized he could hear terrified words.

“HE-P M- HEL- -E HELP M- HELP ME—“

Steve tilted his head gently, fear fading slowly as he listened to the desperate cries. A sudden wave of familiarity washed over him as it moved away again, shrieking gaining a panicked edge as it left his territory. The Skia Elenkti reminded him of something or someone, but Steve’s mind was still spinning too much to figure it out.

He watched the creature move away until he could no longer see it. Then, slowly, feeling oddly stiff, Steve rose to his feet and made his way back to the central cave.

The Terassians had pressed themselves to the walls, trembling, and Steve found himself faintly annoyed with them.

“Thank you all so much for staying with me.” He growled sarcastically. “The support was much appreciated.”

His Pack shuffled, no one making eye contact with him, and Steve sighed tiredly.

“I’m going home, Euryale.” He murmured, rubbing at his forehead. “I’ve seen what you had to show me and I’m tired.”

Euryale nodded slowly as she stepped forward and Steve ignored her in favor of going straight back to the Gate. He stepped through quietly, mind still full of confused thoughts as he made his way home.

It was hours later, as he brushed his teeth and prepared for bed, that he finally realized what the Skia’s terrified, hidden pleading had reminded him of.

Billy Hargrove.

Chapter Text

Halloween had finally passed and as the temperature began dropping, Steve’s Darkland-related anxiety grew.

They still had not found Dustin’s Aberrant pup and the Skia Elenkti had become more and more active with every day that passed. Steve was the only person who was not terrified to death of it and so he often went hunting on his own. He learned to freeze when the ground began shaking and more than once it had walked right over him, low moans and chattering grumbles leaving its great chest.

It always sounded trapped, as though it wanted something it was unable to reach.

He always left the Darklands feeling pensive after those encounters.

On a better note, Steve had been spending more time with the kids since meeting Max. For the most part he only spent time with Dustin, Lucas, and Max, but Nancy and Jonathan had joined them a few times. Those outings were always painfully tense since Nancy seemed to think Steve was not capable of taking care of the kids and usually took over.

It annoyed Steve and obviously bothered Dustin, but the Ælpha chose to think the best. After all, Nancy had not spent much time with him since they broke up and so her only reliable memories of him were from when he had been a massive jerk. He could not blame her for distrusting him since he had given her no reason to do anything else.

Their outings usually consisted of visits to the arcade and Dustin’s house to play Dungeons and Dragons, a game that Steve would probably never fully understand. It seemed fun though, and the kids enjoyed playing it immensely, so Steve was not bothered by his ignorance.

He would stand against the wall of the arcade when that was their chosen haunt, watching the kids play various games and trash talk each other mercilessly. Max was a formidable opponent, flattening the other two with ease no matter what they played. Neither of the boys minded.

When they played D&D, Steve sat in a corner and watched, instincts thrumming with contentment at their laughter and mind worlds away.

Steve had a lot to think about.

He had taken to running back roads, often searching out new routes to explore when his normal ones grew monotonous. The kids had finally told him a bit more of what they knew, specifically because he had walked in on them discussing rotting pumpkin fields and they had immediately tried to change the subject. They had not been pleased about having to tell him, but Steve gave them no other option.

Apparently, fields all around Hawkins had been rotting without much explanation since just before Halloween. The crops just…died and decayed. The information was half the reason Steve began running new paths in the first place.

He needed to see the damage for himself.

Steve found one of the fields late the Friday night after they told him, six days before November started.

The first indication of something wrong was a sour scent in the air. Then, as he jogged around a curve in the dirt road he was on, the scent of death hit him like a slap in the face. He jolted to a stop, nearly falling as the scent overpowered him and left him literally heaving. The Ælpha barely managed to refrain from vomiting and crept forward as soon as he had himself under control.

The field he found himself next to was full of pumpkins.

Black, slimy, rotted pumpkins that smelled like petroleum-soaked death.

Steve stepped slowly into the field, moving carefully among the rows of mildewing gourds. The ground felt oddly spongey, like it was not quite stable under the surface. He left extremely quickly, heart pounding in terror for some reason he could not fully explain.

Steve acted normal the next day at the arcade, but he already knew he would be in the Darklands that night.

He needed to check on something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As he had suspected, the Darklands area corresponding to the Hawkins pumpkin field was teeming with vines, far more than he had ever seen in one place. It made his stomach turn uncomfortably as he watched them visibly growing right in front of his eyes. He crept among them, carefully exploring the sickened area.

The further he got into Aberrant territory, the more certain he grew that the vines were a part of something bigger.

Euryale warned him several times after the first Skia Elenkti sighting against going back out beyond the Lover’s Lake basin. Steve never heeded her warnings, mostly because he had to keep going out there to understand what was going on in Hawkins, but also because he had an insatiable curiosity about the places beyond his territory. The more he saw of the Aberrant lands, the more he wanted to reclaim it for himself.

When he returned to Hawkins, he had to act normal, no matter what. This meant taking them to the arcade and their D&D games without ever once acting nervous.

It was a lot harder than he thought it was going to be, but he managed with only a slight headache.

One day, Steve heard the kids talking about another one of their Party. Steve had not seen Will Byers since his first few meeting with the group and when he asked about the kid, the others all said he was just sick.

Somehow, Steve doubted that was the whole truth, but he decided not to press that time. He already had too many worries to be thinking about a missing kid and, no offense to Will, Steve barely knew him. It was not the same as if Dustin or Max or Lucas had been sick and missing.

Steve probably would have gone into a panic if one of them went missing for even a single day.

On the tenth of November, the Skia Elenkti disappeared. It just…vanished.

Steve decided enough was enough and took his favorite three hunters out with him beyond the territory line.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is going to end horribly, Steve.”

“Relax, Ouli,” Steve laughed, “the Skia hasn’t been out since a few days ago, and I will lose my mind if I have to keep away from the Aberrants for another day. Let’s go clear some more of my territory, shall we?”

Sithyros hummed a soft noise of agreement.

“See? Sithy agrees with me.”

“I rather like the diminutive, little Ælpha.” She hissed out with a laugh.

“Little, am I?” Steve rattled a laugh. “And where I come from, they’re called ‘nicknames.’”

She murmured the unfamiliar word a few times before laughing again, pleased.

“You need a Terassian name, Ælpha.” Dromeas murmured suddenly. They paused for a few moments to watch the sky before crossing the lake basin and Steve nodded, agreeing.

“Would you three give me one then?”

Sithyros hissed excitedly.

“You must name yourself, little Ælpha.” She rasped. “Your deeds in battle will give you your title. For example, my name means Whisper.”

Steve blinked in surprise.

“I suppose that fits.” He shrugged at last as they kept moving.

Sithyros laughed.

“What do your names mean, Dromeas and Ouli?”

“My given name is not actually Ouli. That means ‘scar’ and was put on me by the Pack as a whole. My given name means Affectionate.” Ouli murmured, sounding embarrassed.

“Really?” Steve laughed, glancing over at his companion as they ran. “What’s your given name?”

“Storgikos.” The Terassian mumbled awkwardly. “It sounds like a pup’s name.”

“I don’t think so.” Steve murmured. “Why was that your name?”

“Because when I was injured,” Ouli explained softly, “the only ones who would spend time with me were others who had been hurt. Those who were still hale and whole saw wounds as a weakness, no matter the size. But, those who were like me understood and so I grew close to many of them. Thus, Ouli. Affectionate.”

Steve grinned. “I like that. I suppose I don’t know you well enough yet to see that side of you, but I’m sure they’re right.”

Ouli snorted. “To those who were not injured I was set apart by my scar. Ouli. A name that denoted damage.”

“Now that I do not agree with.” Steve growled angrily. “They were fools for giving you such a name, you are one of the best fighters I know.”

Ouli huffed out a soft noise of thanks.

“Would you prefer if I called you by your given name?”

“No.” Ouli shook his head gently. “It has been too many years now. The name has no weight now, it is simply what I am called.”

Steve nodded in understanding.

Finally, Dromeas spoke up.

“My name means Runner.”

Steve chortled. “Well, that’s perfect, seeing as you are the fastest Terassian I’ve met so far.”

Dromeas nodded. “I got it when I carried news of Aberrant activity through miles of enemy territory several centuries ago. I think it was the fastest I have ever run.”

Steve laughed, pleased with all the stories.

“Now all I need is my own name!”

They nodded in agreement.

“Who knows,” Sithyros hissed excitedly, “perhaps you will make it today!”

“Perhaps.” Steve murmured before falling silent as they entered Aberrant territory.

The temperature drop felt more significant than usual as they made their way through the shadowy trees and Steve had a sudden feeling of foreboding. Perhaps this had not been a wise decision after all.

He shook the feeling off with a low growl and sped to a sprint as he led the way deeper into the blackened lands. His hunting party stayed close, guarding him as they ran. Steve grinned savagely, secure in the knowledge that his companions were his strongest hunters.

“Ælpha,” Sithyros hissed suddenly, “beware!”

Three Aberrants lunged out of the trees to their left, faces wide open and claws out as they charged. Steve dropped into a roll to avoid the first one’s attack before he leapt back to his feet and swung his bat into it’s abdomen. The creature let out a sharp bark of pain before crumpling to the ground as Ouli’s claws sheared through its skull.

“Thanks, Ouli!” Steve paused, watching the trees for a few moments before glancing back at the rest of the fight. The other two Aberrants had been taken to the ground by that point and Steve bit back a howl of victory.

The fight was not over yet.

They regrouped quickly, moving more cautiously now that they had met their first group of opponents. Steve stayed close to his hunters, eyes flicking warily over their surroundings as they went deeper into Aberrant territory.

Dromeas called a warning only a few minutes later, second before another Aberrant group charged them.

Steve split off just enough to fight a few of the outlying Aberrants. They were faster than the first few but still clumsy. Steve had the feeling that most of their slip-ups were caused by their surprise at discovering the new Terassian Ælpha was a human. It was an amusing thought.

He managed to kill one of his opponents, loosing sight of the other as he did so. He found it again at the same time its claws came down over his hands and sent his bat flying. A startled yell left his throat and he reacted  without thinking as it leaned toward him.

He punched it in the head.

The beast did not collapse from the punch, it went flying and slammed into a tree before crumpling to the ground.

Steve froze, staring at the Aberrant with shock in his eyes. How on earth had he just—?!

“Ælpha!” The others finished their battles and swung toward him, each bleeding from a few small wounds.

“Are you alr—woah.” Dromeas stopped speaking as he caught sight of the fallen Aberrant and Steve’s bloodied fist. Sithyros let out an amazed warble and Ouli just stared, facial flaps trembling.

“How did you—?”

“I…” Steve blinked. “I have no idea.”

A sudden excitement rose up in his chest.

He had just punched an Aberrant in the face and killed it. He had killed an inter-dimensional monster with his bare hands!

“That. Was. Awesome!” He threw both arms into the air, grinning like a maniac.

Sithyros trilled excitedly, stomping her feet at his enthusiasm. The two males bobbed their heads, thrilled.

“You must indeed be given a name from this day!” Ouli cried.

“Something wild, I should think.” Dromeas laughed as he found Steve’s bat and returned it to him.

Sithyros stayed quiet for a few moments, thinking, until suddenly, “wild.”

“What?” Steve looked up at her questioningly.

“Wild. Agrios. And your Pack name will be Kyrian, ruler. You shall be Agrios Kyrian.”

Steve’s Pack bond sang with the joyful screeches of his people and his own excitement.

“I like that, Sithy. I like that very much.”

He bumped her arm gently with his shoulder as he passed her before barking out a quick call to follow him. They ran back toward their territory, feet swift and silent, and Steve reveled in this new feeling of connection.

He had a name among his people.

He was Agrios Kyrian, Wild Ruler.

Chapter Text

The Skia Elenkti reappeared not even twenty minutes after Steve and his hunting party returned to their mountain, still celebrating their victory and Steve’s new name. The ground under them began trembling faintly, their only warning as they made it back to shelter, and then a piercing shriek tore through the air.

Steve no longer cowered when hearing it, but the others certainly did. The Skia made its way along the edge of its land, screeching howls leaving it every few seconds. Steve had a feeling it knew he had been beyond his territory line. It was not pleased.

After the others had retreated deeper into the caves, Steve settled down beside the tunnel entrance and watched it. The creature’s shrieks still sounded like muffle pleas for help but there was little he could do about it. He just watched it and tried to figure out its pattern of movement.

It did not appear to have one.

As he sat watching, the creature began doing something new. It started circling a ingle small area repeatedly, never straying far from it before it would return and stretch out toward whatever was just beyond Steve’s vision. The area looked familiar, an open patch void of trees, and Steve mentally tried to figure out where it was compared to Hawkins.

Steve knew it was somewhere outside of town, but where?

He had to find out.

Clambering to his feet, Steve walked back into the tunnels. He gave greetings to everyone he met, as he had been doing since becoming Ælpha, but his Pack could tell he was preoccupied and gave him space. When he reached the Gate, he jumped through and started sprinting.

Running through the woods and along back roads, he headed toward what he hoped was the general area the Skia had been standing over.

Steve passed a few rotten fields, pausing each time he reached one so he could mentally compare it to his mental map of the Darklands. He knew where the corresponding patches of land were for all but one field and made a note to go check that area out when he got back to the Darklands.

Finally, slowing to a walk, Steve found himself at the edge of a treeless property, standing at the base of a hill. Set atop the hill, like a great concrete monster, was an old lab.

He had heard of this place.

Steve knew at least part of it was still open, but the portion of the building that he could see looked obviously closed. There were barely any lights anywhere on the grounds and the portion of chainlink fence Steve had stopped behind was covered in patches of ivy. The entire place looked rundown and dangerous.

Steve shuddered and considered his options.

He could turn around and go home, hoping that the lab had nothing to do with the Aberrants or the influx of activity from their territory. Or, he could pull a Dustin and go in without a single plan in his head to try and find…something.

Steve swished his bat back and forth a few times gently and made his decision.

He pulled a Dustin.

Climbing the fence was easy and he was on the ground across it in only a few seconds. He stayed low, heart pounding as he acknowledged what a stupid idea this probably was. A low grumble left his throat as he scanned his surroundings and then Steve was moving.

He never rose to his full height as he crossed the grassy space between the fence and the building, instead running in an uncomfortable crouch. A soon as he was against the lab’s wall, he pressed himself flat to it and stayed frozen for several long minutes.

Only once he was certain no one had seen him did Steve start searching for a way in. He found one relatively quickly; a few of the windows on the first floor were shattered. He slipped through one, moving slowly and keeping his bat held in front of him as he landed in the darkened hall of the lab’s round floor.

The air smelled damp, a chill wafting down the halls on a cool, musty-scented draft. What he could see of the hall in front of him was dirty and almost completely black. The only light was from the barely risen moon.

Steve took a cautious step forward, feet silent on the cold tile floor a he walked down the hallway. He made maybe thirty yards before he nearly fell headlong into a literal hole in the lab’s floor. A startled noise left his throat, loud in the echoing silence, and Steve hear a rattling growl answer him.

He was not alone.

From below, the sounds of clawed fee echoed up to him and Steve realized exactly what it was that he was standing over.

This was an Aberrant tunnel.

Steve stood frozen for a few seconds before leaning down and peering into the inky blackness below him. He could see the faintest glistening of something moist and slimy near where he thought the ground probably was. A shudder ran down his spine as a sudden drat blew death-scented air into his face and he bit back a violent gag.

Clearly he made some sort of noise because the glistening thing suddenly moved, twitching slightly before slipping away into the darkness. Steve’s stomach dropped and he fled back the way he had come, no longer caring about being quiet.

For an instant, nothing happened.

Then he heard screeches echoing behind him, quickly followed by a much stronger wave of icy, death-polluted air. There was a rushing sound as many clawed paws raced after him and Steve sped up, desperately trying not to slip on the tiles. Leaping forward, he threw himself forward out of the window he had gotten in through. Landing hard and rolling back onto his feet, Steve barely managed to dodge a set of claws slashing at his belly as an Aberrant pup leapt after him.

A quick, well-placed blow from his bat felled the pup, but several dozen took its place. Steve was not stupid, he knew when to run. This was most certainly one of those moments and he bolted again, back toward the fence and (hopefully) safety. The young beasts gave chase, hisses and growls called out after his retreating form.

Steve kept his eyes forward.

Reaching the bottom of the hill, Steve realized very suddenly that he had no way to climb the fence with one hand occupied. A split second of thought later, he dropped his bat and all but vaulted himself at the fence. Scrambling up the chainlink was a bit painful, but he made it to the top, swung over, and kept running. He was panting heavily as he raced back toward the safety of town.

He could hear clawed feet still racing after him and realized with a sort of numb horror that a few of the monsters had managed to either tear through the fence or climb it. Steve had no weapon.

For a while, all he knew was the terror of running from something he could no longer fight. He remembered, of course, punching a fully grown Aberrant in the face, but the pups were faster and much lower to the ground. To hit one, he would have to let it first land on top of him and potentially take a bite out of him.

Steve refused to die so soon after becoming Ælpha.

Heck, he thought distractedly, forget the Pack, what would the kids think?!

Dustin looked up to him in a way no one else ever had and, as much as Steve hated to admit it, the kid had grown massively on him. Lucas was slowly becoming another youngster who all but idolized him and Steve had only just learned how to properly communicate with the kid.

Max!

Steve’s heart ached thinking about Max, the only girl in the Party.

She did not idolize him the way Dustin did, but she looked up to him the way he thought she probably once had Billy. The thought of being like an older brother to Max made Steve unreasonably happy.

No, he would not—could not—die.

For the first time in his life, he had too much to lose.

A short, barking roar ripped out of his throat and he forced his aching body to run faster. He had to get away from the monsters chasing him, he had kids to think about.

After a few more minutes of breathless sprinting, Steve glanced back to check the woods for anything still following him. Nothing moved except the leaves he had stirred up with his passing and he finally slowed to a jog, then a walk. Stopping completely, he gasped for breath and listened attentively for any out-of-place sounds.

The only things he could hear were the wind, a few distant cars, and his own breathing.

He was safe.

Steve crumpled to the ground in a heap, chest throbbing as he heaved for air. At last five minutes passed before he finally had enough breath back to scramble to his feet and keep moving. He limped along slowly, legs aching fiercely after the extended period of sprinting.

“I…really need to…work…on my stamina.” He panted softly to himself.

Ælpha!

“Oh, Eury.” He huffed softly. “Hi. Where’ve…you been? I could have…used some help.”

You did not call.

I thought you could feel my emotions. He thought back, too tired to speak out loud anymore.

I can, but only if you allow it.

Really? Steve thought sarcastically. Because I could have sworn you can just barge in. You’ve done it enough times in the past few weeks.

He thought back to his conversation with Dustin about girls and hairdos, intentionally jabbing his annoyance at Euryale in the hope that she would at the very least apologize. She refused to even respond.

Interesting. Steve grumbled. You can barge in whenever you please, but if I intentionally tell you something or remind you of an inconvenient memory, you act as though I’m just a mosquito buzzing in your ear. Very rude, especially considering you’re supposed to be on my side.

Euryale had the decency to feel a tiny bit chastened through the Pack bond. Steve rolled his eyes and decided to ignore her.

Sithyros? Ouli? Dromeas? Anybody but Euryale?

There was a low chuckling sensation through the bond and suddenly he had all three of his favorite hunters in his head.

Hello, Ælpha. They chorused. We are glad you are safe.

Woah. That’s…kind of terrifying, if I’m being honest. The whole blending voices thing, I mean. Can you not talk individually?

You called all of us, so no. They chuckled. You will grow used to it.

Steve laughed breathlessly and focused on moving quietly through the trees while still basking in the connection with his Pack. It was still a new enough sensation that it had not yet lost its novelty and he truly hoped it never would.

About three miles away from Hawkins, Steve caught a glimpse of something shining in the moonlight. He froze, ducking low out of instinct, and stared in the general direction of the shine. When it stayed still, he crept toward it slowly.

Ælpha, if you are uncertain what it is, do not get any closer than necessary. His trio of hunters advised.

He nodded quietly and crept just close enough to figure out what he was seeing.

Vines ran along the ground, some thinner than his finger but most thick enough to look like large tree roots. They all ran to a central point in the field he had walked through and Steve followed them carefully. When he was a few feet from the meeting point of all the tendrils, he realized with horror that—

It’s an Aberrant tunnel. His mind whispered it and the hunters trilled in warning.

Stay away from it, Ælpha! You are unarmed and exhausted! Get away, get away—

(Get away! His instincts agreed.)

Steve fled for the second time that night, sprinting across the field and up the embankment that lay beside the highway. Only once he had asphalt under his feet did he slow down again.

What is it doing so close to Hawkins?!

We are unsure, but whatever the reason, it is not safe to return there without weapons.

Steve nodded in silent agreement.

I’d…I’d like to think privately for a while guys, if that’s alright. Thanks for sticking with me though.

The three hummed a soft goodbye and he felt their presences fade suddenly, slipping back into the humming background noise made by the rest of his Terassians.

Steve focused on his own thoughts as he made it the rest of the way home.

Why was a tunnel so close to Hawkins? Why was part of the old lab covered in vines and full of tunnel entrances? Why were there so many Aberrant pups in the area? Where had Dustin’s baby Aberrant come from? Where had it gone?

There were so many questions and so few answers, but Steve had the feeling he knew the answer to the overarching why.

Euryale had told him early on that the Crimson Death’s first ‘symptom’ was decay sweeping across huge areas of land, quickly followed by vines covering everything. The rotting fields had become a problem at the beginning of October, and now vines were suddenly appearing all around Hawkins, starting at the fields.

Steve’s blood ran cold as he thought about what that meant.

The Darklands were extremely sick, everything still living quickly fading toward death. The sun (if there even was one anymore) had not shone in literal millennia, there was no longer any drinkable water, and the temperature never rose above zero degrees Fahrenheit.

Overall, the Darklands were dying.

They and been for a long time, but now the Crimson Death’s first few wanted something better. When the first Gate had opened when it first landed in Elyssaria, that Gate and the ones that followed must have put the slightest bit of pollution into the air or water of Earth.

The Crimson Death was coming to Earth to find a new home.

And it was starting in Hawkins.