And now we move forward; quick disclaimer, the story has now officially entered a new "phase" as I like to call it, so I'll be able to finally implement new concepts and ideas.

He saw a figure, a figure that radiated light and splendor, cutting away at the dark shadows present in his coffin.

He realized that he was in fact, suspended in nothing, nothing but space.

The tall individual seemingly moved closer to him, and he had to close his eyes due to the brightness of the light.

Mark then felt the person placing it's palm on his chest, immediately, the symbols painted upon his pecs seemed to turn on, and warmth quickly spread throughout his being.

Then, his senses seemed to turn off, returning him back to realm of slumber.

The marine awoke to the hissing noise of the opening sarcophagus. Steam pooled out of the cramped space.

He was drowsy, feeling like he had a hangover, minus the vomiting.

A couple of hands grabbed him with a firm hold and steadily helped him out.

Blinking a couple of times, the blurriness of his visual faded away, and a familiar face took its place:

"Kyiv?"

The arbitrator's mandibles formed a satisfied smile before replying, "It is good to see you once again Mark."

Something was off: he couldn't quite put his finger on it though.

Closing his blue orbs again, he let out a short groan.

"How do you feel?" "Disoriented..." he heard him click his mandibles, muttering something about the relaxants.

"It is expected, but the medicine in your blood stream should lose its effects in a short amount of time." he then glanced back at the hunter, and something seemed to click in place: he wasn't staring up.

They were eye to eye level, scratch that, he had an inch, maybe two over him in height. He looked down and realized that he was standing up.

Kyiv noticed the confusion in his gaze, and decided to lay his questions to rest: "We have augmented your body... and now you are stronger, faster and better than ever before. Just like us."

Mark blankly stared at nothing, trying to understand what he had just told him, seemingly even more confused than before.

"Then, I'm as strong as one of you yautja?" he finally asked, snapping out of his thoughts.

"Sei. You've earned it Mark." he told him with a proud tone. He then directed his golden eyes to his exposed crotch, "And you've also grown in the other department." he immediately turned to the side, realizing that there were other hunters in the room.

Fortunately, none seemed to be looking at his nude form. "Kyiv, what the hell !?" he whispered in fury.

Said arbitrator merely chuckled, "Since your ooman anatomy was not compatible to be able to mate with one of our female, you've received some enhancements, thus landing you at above average."

He leaned forward to tease him some more, "Consider this a gift on my behalf, for I know that you will have to be well endowed to sire a pup with the honored primal huntr- "If I require information then I'll ask for it. Please do shut up." he growled defensively, to which the warrior simply chuckled once more.

Mark struggled, sweat coating his skin as he lifted the metal cylinder above his head once more. It weighed little more than two tons, but it was still less than what a regular yautja could lift.

They had stayed in the medical quarters for a bit, and he had run a few tests to see the improvements on his physicality.

The transformation process had gone well, but he still had to work some more, though to the fact that he was still recovering and regain weight and muscle mass.

Kyiv had explained that if he continued at the rate he was going, then he would soon return to normal health conditions.

Speaking of the devil, he appeared next to him in the kehrite.

"You are holding up well." he observed.

He panted and the set the object back down with a loud thud, completing his tenth set.

"It's still not enough. I'm not at my best." the other huffed in annoyance, "And I do not expect you to be, certainly not now of all times. Patience is one of the hunter's best instruments. Always remember that."

He waved his hand at that, nodding in agreement, "Yes, I get your point. Just want to get better, especially since I know that we both now stand on equal grounds." he barked back, challenging him.

"I have the experience of hundreds of battles, it will not be easy for you." they both shared a short laugh at his rebuttal.

Gruvin observed the battle in front.

Besides him stood Y'rall. Both were silently watching the hand to hand duel that was unfolding before them.

He had to admit that he counted himself lucky as to not be the one in the ring.

Mark was currently locked in a clinch with Kyiv, furiously struggling to overpower him. The marine succeeded in his task by sneaking in a couple of knees, and taking advantage of the arbitrator's short shock, he quickly performed a series of fast punches to his torso, before kicking his leg out from under him, and finishing him off with a roundhouse kick to the temple.

The elite coughed a couple of times, and submitted to the younger hunter. They had sparred a few times in the past cycles, and while he could still compete back then, he now knew that his chances at beating Mark were growing slimmer.

Now that he had gotten more used to his new strength and speed, Mark could fully apply his skills in mma, and they had proven excellent in ensuring his superiority against the less refined style of fighting of the yautja.

'Not less refined, just less effective.' he thought, knowing that it did not fully incorporate all of the advantages that certain martial arts possessed: such as taekwondo, karate, jujitsu, kung fu, krav maga and lerdrit.

His knowledge and experience in fighting proved to be quite the challenge for Kyiv, as he had trouble keeping up with the unknown techniques and faints that he used.

Still, that did not mean that he was left unscathed: he proudly sported a few bruises and bleeding cuts, curtesy of the hunter's clawed hands.

Bowing to each other in respect, Y'rall came forward, "That was an impressive match. Well done indeed." Mark bowed his head in thanks.

Her gold eyes suddenly gained a dark glint, "Perhaps we can spar as well."

'Fuck.' he knew that she loved her mate dearly, and now she was probably going to want to repay the favor, and avenge him.

He saw Gruvin struggling to contain his laughter, and sent him a glare. But Mark knew that he could not remain angry at him for long, after all: he would've probably done the same thing if their roles had been reversed.

He sighed and lowered himself in the water, wincing at the tension in his muscles.

The female arbitrator had proven to be a much tougher challenge than her counterpart; the blue spots littering his body were very much proof of that.

Because of her larger and stronger frame, he had hoped to tire her out and wear her down; but she was a seasoned hunter, and the strategy proved to be fruitless.

Hell, even grappling with her was a death sentence, and he just didn't have the strength to force her into submission via joint locks.

Mark knew that while he had almost completely recovered, he was still far from peak shape.

His mental health was still an issue; and he was lost on what to do.

At the moment he refrained from thinking of the past four years, and took pills that stimulated the production of specifically selected hormones, to reduce the likelihood of receiving another panic attack, 'Antidepressants, in other words...'.

He grunted in pain, 'Shit! she sure has a good haymaker.' he thought.

The soldier had to get ready tough, since tonight they were participating to a feast, plenty of elites, elders, priests and ancients were in attendance. Mark was also aware of the fact that the matriarch would blood him as a hunter, thus making him an official member of the clan.

Another effect of his transformation was his increased senses, and he seemed to have especially developed his olfactory sense.

The human hybrid, could now smell like yautja did, and it was quite interesting to discover a new world. He was also practicing with masking his sexual scent, and while it wasn't the easiest thing to do, Kyiv had assured him that with practice it would become second nature.

He sure hoped he was right: he would not, want to be standing near to high ranking females if he were to have a slip up.

Y'rall had won against him, and he dared not think what could happen to him in a real fight against even more experienced huntresses.

Mark made a valiant effort to try and cover himself with fragrant oils, and he also tried to cover up as much skin as possible.

Unfortunately, traditional yautja clothing left little to the imagination, and since he was a soon to be blooded hunter, he simply did not possess ceremonial awu'asa.

The best he could do was to add a set of shorts that arrived at mid thigh, along with a loincloth and a few belts strapped around his upper pelvis. After that, he managed to acquire a fur lined sash going over his upper torso and back, (think of Kratos in his default norse outfit, minus the shoulder armor)

Showing ones scars would signify showing ones worth and honor, the physical proof of many hard fought and victorious hunts.

But Mark did not care about that. He felt discomfort in showing off his mangled muscles, ravaged by bullets and claws alike.

Still, he donned the protective leg guards, so at least his calves would be covered.

"You are not hunting Mark. There is no need for so much plating." Kyiv chided while looking him up and down.

He sighed in annoyance, "You are aware of my ways of dressing." "And I still do not understand them." he paused, waiting to see if he would budge; but in the end he regressed, "Very well. Come, we are leaving."

The public grounds of the temple had been decorated festively with skulls, bones and effigies.

Bonfires were lit, food was served, music was played.

The general mood was a happy one, dancers performed ritualistic movements, while hunters boasted of their kills and skulls.

Mark was wide eyed, darting his gaze at every little detail he could make out; it truly was a beautiful sight.

Among the many yautja, he could notice a fair share of guards and arbitrators stationed around, guarding against any possible attack. He followed Y'rall and Kyiv while still keeping a fair distance to them; this was after all a feast reserved for the best hunters in the clan.

The lowest in the pecking order (excluding etas) were elite hunters, and they had many successful hunts under their belts.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the closer they got to the more crowded area, the more warriors started to notice him.

Mark did not like it, he felt uncomfortable under the stares of so many. He actively worked to push back his fear, making sure that it didn't pervade his scent.

He would've preferred to remain in the background, and for a while it worked: as the two elite arbitrators were reconciling with their fellow colleagues and being approached by many who wished to converse, he was able to stay out of the spotlight.

That was until the high matriarch loudly addressed his name.

Immediately, everything stopped, and silence reigned. The attention was focused solely on him, 'Fuck.'

Aware of the proper customs, he walked up to the elevated floor where her table was set up. Once he reached the top of the stairs, he bowed down, seeing that she was holding the severed finger of a kiande amedha.

He clenched his hand, digging his nails into his palm to ignore the urge to think of the hive.

The silence was unnerving, the tension palpable. He waited, and soon enough he grit his teeth as the matron carved the symbol of the Fire Skull clan onto the flesh of his upper left peck.

Once the action was done, she took a necklace that was being patiently held by a servant next to them.

Since Mark did not possess the typical dreadlocks, his rings would be placed securely onto the strong chord. Solemnly, she placed it around his neck.

There were not one, but five bands in total he thought, sidetracking the praise the matriarch was giving.

When Guan-Kwei finished her speech she bid the ooman, now a blooded hunter, to rise. He bowed his head, and retreated back.

Her age and experience taught her to be very observant, so she noticed his anxiousness, even if he hid it well.

Surprisingly, there were no roars of approval, it all remained eerily quiet. 'At least I'm done.'

The closer he got to the ground level, the more talk was made around the open space.

He quickly made his way back to Kyiv and Y'rall, who complimented him on his new rank. Feeling more at ease, he started to open up more.

"Since you've insisted on eating only nutritious meals, you shall now be able to taste the full extent of our food." his friend stated, veering him towards the many stands containing food.

And so he spent a good amount of time trying new stuff, and he was also introduced to C'ntlip, and he found it to be very much to his liking, even if the burn on his throat was horrible.

It was when the twin suns started to set, that he left the temple grounds to stand in front of a lake.

While the evening meal, or dinner would be served in about an hour, he took this time to reflect on the latest happenings.

The loud noises from the feast were but simple echoes in the background at his back.

He raised the cup of alcohol to his lips and gave it a hefty sip, gasping as it burned his insides.

After these last 7 years, his original goal was complete. He had achieved his mission, and yet... something was missing...

'Home...'

His home, his country and nation. His own kind, his fellow navy seals.

Mark was lost in his contemplative thoughts, but his honed skills picked up the steady approach of a presence.

He tilted his head to the side, and looked at the oncoming figure with the corner of his eye.

His mind panicked at the recognition of the red striped huntress.

"It has been some time, has it not, ooman?"

Now I'll take the liberty of screwing you over with a cliffhanger. Anyway, yes this came out a little longer than expected, but I want to give you guys a little gift, since my birthday is coming up on Monday. So yeah... comment away!