D-Animal
Three days had passed since the D-Armilla Ritual.
Three days since Elara Pack's blood had been read, divided, and accepted by something that was still growing silently inside her bracelet. Three days since her school routine had subtly changed — not in schedules or classrooms, but in looks.
The Exalia-Elite Institute looked the same on the outside: long corridors of pale metal, lockers aligned like motionless soldiers, tall windows filtering the artificial light of the urban sky. Inside, however, everything felt tenser. More attentive. Students now displayed their D-Armillas with pride or frustration, compared the glow of their seeds, debated affinities as if they were already experts in something they barely understood.
Elara walked down the main corridor with steady steps, her backpack hanging from one shoulder. Her face remained neutral, but a low sigh slipped from her lips — contained, dissatisfied.
Because, once again, Kael Voss was there.
"So, Pack," his voice echoed behind her, dripping with mockery. "Still hiding your lonely little seed?"
She stopped.
She didn't turn right away. She simply closed her eyes for a brief second, taking a deep breath. The corridor was full. Students passed back and forth, but the space around them seemed to open up, as if the environment itself sensed something was about to happen.
Kael stepped closer, deliberately displaying his wrist with the D-Armilla.
Two Digital Seeds pulsed there — but not with the same vigor as before.
Elara noticed the instant she looked.
The glow was irregular. Weak. The pulses weren't consistent. There were micro-failures in the energy flow, tiny interruptions that a careless observer would never notice… but she did.
And her stomach tightened.
"Two seeds," Kael continued, smiling arrogantly. "Some people are born to be average. Others…" he tilted his head, convinced, "to be superior."
Elara finally turned.
Her heterochromatic eyes landed first on his face. Then they slowly dropped to the D-Armilla.
And there it was.
Negligence.
Not physical — Kael did feed the seeds with blood, of course, but the wrong way. No rhythm. No respect. As if they were trophies, not lives in formation. The Digital Seeds flickered, unstable, struggling to maintain their own structure.
Elara felt something tighten in her chest.
It wasn't anger.
It was pity.
Pity for the small D-Animals that hadn't even been born yet… and were already being treated like disposable tools.
"You should take better care of them," she said, her voice low, controlled.
Kael laughed.
"Well look at that," he taunted. "Now you're an expert?"
Elara's fingers slowly curled.
Fists clenched.
She felt the impulse rise — fast, hot, direct. One punch. A single movement would be enough. She knew exactly where to hit. She knew the angle, the force, the timing.
But she didn't move.
She huffed, looking away for a moment, fighting herself.
And then—
CRACK.
A dry, brutal sound.
Something shot past her left shoulder at high speed, cutting through the air. Before Elara could react, a fist struck Kael's face with absolute precision.
The snap was unmistakable.
A nose breaking.
Kael was thrown backward, his body losing balance before crashing to the floor with a dull thud. A muffled scream escaped him as he clutched his face, blood beginning to seep between his fingers.
The corridor plunged into silence.
Elara's eyes widened slightly as she turned around.
Behind her stood an older boy, posture straight, calmly massaging his own fist. He wore the institute uniform perfectly: shirt fitted to his body, sleeves rolled to the exact length, dark trousers immaculate.
He was seventeen.
Straight black hair, neatly arranged, falling elegantly across his forehead. Thin-framed glasses outlined dark, attentive, analytical eyes. His face was handsomely understated, far too mature for his age, and his expression… severe.
Han Seung Woo.
President of the student council.
First place in the overall ranking of the Exalia-Elite Institute.
He cast a hard look at Kael, still lying on the floor.
"Get up," he said, voice low and firm. "And before you say anything… shut your mouth."
Kael tried to protest.
"You— you hit me!"
"You are neglecting two Digital Seeds," Han replied without raising his tone. "And doing it in public."
He took a step forward, approaching Kael. His eyes narrowed slightly as he focused on the boy's D-Armilla.
"The pulses are irregular," he continued. "You don't maintain proper feeding cycles. You don't respect stabilization periods. If you keep this up, your D-Animals will die before they even hatch."
The entire corridor held its breath.
Kael went pale.
"That… that's not true," he muttered, uncertain.
"It is," Han replied simply. "And if you lose those seeds, there will be no second chance."
He straightened and turned his back on Kael, clearly dismissing him as a secondary problem.
Then his eyes shifted to Elara.
He observed her for several seconds — not from head to toe, not with disdain, but with genuine attention. One eyebrow arched slightly.
"You," he said. "You're from class A-1, aren't you?"
Elara straightened automatically.
"Yes," she replied. "Elara Pack."
She gave a brief, respectful nod.
"Class A-1. Academic ranking… fourth place."
Han seemed satisfied.
"I know."
She blinked, surprised.
He adjusted his glasses with two fingers.
"I monitor all rankings," he explained. "Academic, physical, and initial symbiosis."
His gaze flicked quickly to her wrist — too fast for anyone else to notice.
"Good self-control," he added. "You were about to hit him… but you didn't."
Elara held his gaze.
"It wasn't worth it."
One corner of Han's mouth curved almost imperceptibly.
"I agree."
Behind them, some students whispered while others watched Kael being helped up by classmates, humiliated, his nose clearly out of place.
Han turned back to Elara.
"You have good instincts," he said. "And a sense of responsibility. Even when it isn't your obligation."
She frowned slightly.
"They haven't even been born yet," she replied. "They don't deserve that."
The silence that followed was different.
Not heavy.
Respectful.
Han nodded slowly.
"That's exactly the kind of mindset this place lacks."
He took half a step back, returning to a formal stance.
"As president of the student council, I am officially issuing a warning to Kael Voss," he announced, his voice echoing down the corridor. "And thanking you, Elara Pack, for not turning this situation into something worse."
She blinked again.
"I just—"
"You did enough," he interrupted.
Then he added, almost casually:
"You're fourth in the institute's overall ranking. Just below me, Vivia, and Carlos."
She knew that.
But hearing it from him felt different.
"Keep it up," Han said. "Exalia-Elite is watching."
He turned to leave, but paused for a moment, glancing over his shoulder.
"And take good care of your seed," he finished.
A shiver ran down Elara's spine.
There was no accusation in those words.
There was awareness.
Han Seung Woo walked away down the corridor, steps silent, presence firm. Slowly, students resumed their movement, the murmur returning little by little, as if everyone needed to confirm that what they had witnessed had really happened.
Elara remained still for a few seconds longer.
Then she took a deep breath.
Her wrist felt warmer than before.
The seeds — all three of them — pulsed in unison, silent, alive.
She adjusted her backpack on her shoulder and moved on.
The silence had been broken.
And for the first time since the Ritual, Elara was certain of one thing:
She was not as invisible as she had thought.