Humans were constantly in pursuit of the new.
They searched for forms of life outside their own.
They combed distant planets for a trace of intelligence beyond theirs.
They cried innovation and exploration in foreign streets.
Yet when they were faced with the reality of a civilisation that thrived outside the boundaries of their fragile existence, one that they couldn't confine to their own sense of mortality and morality, their voices no longer rallied for acceptance, but for exclusion.
Stepping off the top rung of the ladder was hard when you built yourself to be a god.
Malandra Alastriona Bates wasn't alive for the Lupine Revolution, but one hundred years later on from it, not much had changed.
Back at the beginning of the revolution, not much could change.
Shifters were so far integrated into society that to radically uproot them would have caused a complete societal breakdown.
So instead, the shifts were much subtler.
Every so often, an unexpected scandal would hit a lupine leader, they'd be excused from office, then all of a sudden, job descriptions saying 'Human Applicants Only' would be put in the papers, shifter-only schools would pop out of the woodwork, wolves would be required to reveal their dynamic to every human they fell into conversation with.
Just like everything else that came as a shock to the western world, the wolves were no exception to the greatest brainwashing tool ever produced.
Mainstream news.
Now, Mala knew that the news wasn't all bad, but she also knew that less than a hundred years ago they were pumping out reports claiming that shifters were a detriment to society. Dangerous. Something to be feared and shut away to a place where they couldn't roam free.
Nowadays, people had progressed to a certain extent.
Unlike her grandparents, Mala didn't have to flash her eyes at every dim-witted human so they would know she was a wolf. She didn't have to watch her back for the sicko's who hunted wolves for fun and she wouldn't be locked up if she didn't write 'shifter' on her job application.
Discrimination against her kind was still there, just diminished to gossip, widespread fear, and parents who crossed their children to the other side of the road when they noticed her strength, speed and the other traits that gave away her lack of humanity. Of course, the odd bit of institutional racism was prevalent too but she had never really had to deal with that.
Both Malandra's first and middle name meant 'defender' and a defender she was. She may have been named after her mother, her father's ex-wife, but she definitely took after her dad. She had followed in his footsteps to such an extent that she was interning at the same police station he currently worked at.
As soon as she had turned twenty-one, and after graduating from university with a degree in criminal law and journalism, she had completed her certificate in policing and started her internship, a two-year probationary period in which she learned the ropes and proved herself independent in the force.
She had to admit, being a shifter in the force had its benefits. The heightened eyesight and hearing, plus the sensitively to smell had its perks- not so much when you were scouring with your father through junkyards for clues, but absolutely when you were identifying a particular scent or helping with stakeouts in the dead of night.
"You all set for tomorrow?"
Mala turned around to address the owner of the raspy male voice, also known as one of her only human friends. He had started his probationary period at the same time as her and they hit it off as soon as they met.
He walked up and leaned against the glass door, squinting his eyes against the harsh sun.
Mala didn't know how he did it.
Though she was a shifter, and was tanned rather than white as snow, even she couldn't handle the intensity of the sun, knowing that on a day such as the current, she'd be burnt if she stayed outside for more than ten minutes without sunscreen. She was reaching the five-minute mark and her skin was already scorching.
Cameron, on the other hand, thrived in the heat. His deep brown skin soaked in the sun like a sponge, meaning that out of the two, Mala was the only one that ended up painfully red while he just browned even further. He claimed that he wore sunscreen- whatever brand he was using, she needed to find out.
She also wanted to find out what brand of hair dye he used to make the tips of his hair that particular shade of light brown. She had thick, stubborn, and extremely dark, brown hair which she had been trying to lighten in colour for over five years. It was another thing she inherited from her mother, the woman who she didn't have a whole lot of contact with.
After her parents' divorce, her mother had moved back to her birthplace of Germany and their contact was limited to phone calls and the occasional facetime.
It wasn't as if her mother hadn't tried to make Mala come with her- she had. But Mala had always been closer to her father. Plus, she had a whole life in the UK, friends at school and the like, not to mention she didn't speak a word of German.
Statistics showed that divorce was becoming more and more common in the shifter world. As the population grew, the amount of shifters finding their true mates lowered. Now that there was no guarantee of the coveted true love, people learned to find love for themselves.
Mala didn't doubt that her parents loved each other at one point, but they weren't true mates and as such, the only thing binding them together was her. That didn't turn out to be enough in the end.
She smiled at Cameron, "I sure am. I've been looking forward to it for weeks."
Part of training included knowing how to deal with inmates. Living in the city, she knew she was going to have to actually make some arrests and transfer prisoners at some point, so it was only right that Bateman, her supervisor and the warden of the station, took her and Cameron to Irongate Penitentiary.
"Looking forward to it?" Cameron laughed, "I've heard some crazy things about that place, Mala. It might be a little too hardcore, even for me."
He was right, of course.
There was nothing nice about Irongate.
A supermax prison solely dedicated to holding the worst of the worst shifters, the only good thing about it was that they kept the most dangerous criminals off the streets.
It was about an hour way, in an isolated part of the city, and as such most people would never set their eyes on it during their lifetime. It didn't get many visitors, if any, not least of which was because most inmates were too feral to have any interaction with the outside world.
Mala only knew a little bit more information than the general population, and that was that there were only about five prisoners in the whole system. The identities of the inmates were well concealed, essentially meaning they were out of sight and out of mind. She didn't know how the inside of the prison looked and she didn't know what went on inside either. Besides the warden, and owner of the prison, she didn't even know who worked there.
In the end though, that didn't really matter. She already knew what was important.
Once you were transferred there, you could bet your life that you'd never get out alive.