D-Animal
Elara's back burned.
It wasn't explosive pain—worse than that. It was constant, deep, as if every shard of glass still embedded in her skin had grown roots. Her clothes clung to the wounds, damp with blood, and every small movement pulled at torn flesh in a cruel, silent way. Even so, she kept her shoulders set, her posture upright, as if nothing were wrong.
She didn't want them to see.
Not Lucas.
Not Seung-Woo.
As soon as they found shelter—an old, forgotten apartment in a partially evacuated building—Elara made sure to position herself with her back to the door, near a broken wall where light filtered in weakly and unevenly. There, she knelt in front of Lucas, focusing only on the scrape on her brother's knee.
"It's going to sting a bit," she said, in a tone almost too calm, as she carefully cleaned the wound. "But it's not deep."
Lucas nodded, biting his lip, his eyes still too wide for a boy who had already seen more destruction than anyone should in a lifetime.
"You… you fell on top of us," he murmured. "Why?"
Elara didn't answer right away.
"Because that's what older siblings do," she said at last, giving a half-smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Outside, Visio remained motionless.
The metallic owl was perched on a leaning, twisted post—burned and warped metal, clear evidence of a recent missile impact. Even so, Visio did not move. Violet eyes swept the surroundings in slow, precise cycles, vigilant, silent, like a sentinel that never sleeps.
The apartment smelled of abandonment.
Old mold, settled dust, furniture covered in torn sheets, dark stains on the floor—marks of a past no one had wanted to clean. A place where time had stopped at the exact moment the city decided to give up.
That was when the door opened.
The creak was low, but enough to make Seung-Woo move instantly.
He pushed off the wall where he had been leaning and took a more open position, arms crossed over his chest, his entire body on alert. It wasn't a relaxed stance—it was restraint. Control.
Elara felt it before she saw it.
A heavy presence. Dense. Hostile.
She still had her back to the entrance when footsteps echoed across the cracked floor. They weren't hurried. They weren't hesitant. They were the steps of someone used to dangerous places.
Lucas noticed first.
He hunched his shoulders, instinctively edging closer to Elara, his small body taut as a drawn wire.
"E-Elara…" he whispered.
The man stopped in the doorway.
Rafael S. Richter's eyes narrowed the moment his vision adjusted to the apartment's interior.
Three people.
A teenage girl shielding an injured boy.
A tall young man, well-composed, clearly trained.
And… blood.
A lot of blood.
Rafael's gaze fixed on Elara's back.
On the shards of glass still embedded in her skin, on the red trails slowly running down, on open wounds that looked far too much like others he knew all too well.
For a single second—just one—something different crossed his face.
Not pity.
Not shock.
Recognition.
But it vanished quickly, buried under tension and instinct.
His three D-Animals moved almost at once.
Small metallic spiders spread silently across the floor and walls, forming an invisible perimeter. The King Spider, Kaine, stayed closer, thin legs vibrating as data streamed in.
Above, perched on an exposed beam, the black falcon Cain tilted its head, sensors locking onto the three occupants.
And behind Rafael…
Kaiser.
The mechanical liger filled nearly half the doorway, a hybrid mass of lion and tiger built from repurposed plates, metallic scars clearly visible, its core pulsing an aggressive red. It didn't growl.
It waited.
Elara felt the presence instantly.
The air changed.
She stood up slowly, still not fully turning, placing herself in front of Lucas almost automatically.
"Seung-Woo," she said quietly. "We've got company."
"I noticed," he replied, his voice firm, cold.
Rafael finally spoke.
"This is… my apartment."
His voice was deep, rough, carrying something far too old for someone only twenty-three years old.
Lucas swallowed.
"S-sorry, sir," he said quickly. "We didn't know—"
Rafael raised a hand.
The gesture was sharp, almost violent.
"Quiet," he said—but there was no anger aimed at the boy. It was more… defense.
Elara turned.
The movement made the pain in her back explode.
She kept her face impassive.
Her mismatched eyes met Rafael's.
Light blue.
Cold.
With a thin red ring around the iris—a detail she didn't miss.
"We weren't trying to break in," she said. "We just needed shelter."
Rafael tilted his head slightly, studying her from head to toe—then his gaze returned to her back.
"Shelter came at a cost," he remarked.
Seung-Woo stepped forward.
"She's injured," he said, his voice carrying a clear warning. "We're not a threat."
Rafael let out a short, humorless laugh.
"Everyone says that."
The spiders shifted closer.
Kaiser took one step forward, the floor groaning under his weight.
Elara didn't retreat.
"If we wanted a fight," she said, far too calmly, "we wouldn't be tending to a scraped knee."
Silence.
Heavy.
Rafael's gaze flicked briefly to Lucas—the boy trembling but trying to be brave. Then to Seung-Woo, whose posture screamed formal training. And finally back to Elara.
To the blood.
To the open wounds.
Something inside him tightened.
Memories.
Smells.
Old pain.
He ground his teeth.
"You can stay," he said at last, reluctantly. "For now."
Seung-Woo didn't relax.
"And you?" he asked.
Rafael shrugged.
"I live here. Or used to. Before everything went completely to hell."
He took two steps inside, carefully closing the door behind him.
The sound echoed too loudly.
The spiders partially withdrew.
Cain maintained its watch.
Kaiser sat, but did not power down.
Elara felt exhaustion crash over her all at once.
Even so, she stayed standing.
Rafael walked past her to a fallen table, rummaging through an old metal box. He pulled out an improvised first-aid kit—clearly assembled under pressure, mismatched parts, signs of heavy use.
He tossed it toward her.
"You'll get infected if you leave that like that," he said curtly. "And dying because of glass would be… stupid."
Elara caught the kit.
For a moment, their eyes met again.
Two broken people.
In different ways.
"Thank you," she said.
Rafael didn't answer.
He turned away, bracing his hands on the table, the muscles of his back tense beneath his shirt. Old burns on his thigh and part of his back were visible through the torn fabric—scars that told stories no one there had asked to hear.
Lucas watched in silence.
Seung-Woo never took his eyes off Kaiser.
And Visio, outside, remained motionless.
Watching.
Because in that world…
Even safe places bled.