D-Animal
The air was heavy.
Not only with the smell of dust, rust, and burned fuel that clung to the throat like an invisible hand, but with the constant feeling of being watched. Elara felt it in her bones—that uncomfortable pressure at the base of her neck that only came when the world was about to spit out yet another disaster.
Her vision split in two.
On one side, her own eyes: the half-destroyed convenience store, natural light filtering through cracks in the ceiling, warped shelves, products scattered across the floor like abandoned bones. On the other, Visio's cold, precise sight hovering above, recording every suspicious movement, every shadow that stretched longer than it should.
She muttered something under her breath, more to herself than to anyone else.
"Great… just what we needed."
With two fingers, she made a short gesture.
Fenrir responded before any verbal command. The black wolf dissolved into the shadows like smoke swallowed by the night. One second he was there—solid, metallic, eyes dimming—and the next, only absence remained. No sound. No vibration. Just the void where he had stood.
Elara took a slow breath.
Then her eyes were drawn, almost against her will, to Rafael's ligre.
Kaiser.
He was impossible to ignore.
The metal plates didn't match. Different shades of steel, improvised alloys, joints never meant to coexist. Some pieces still bore hastily erased serial marks; others were scored with deep scratches, clear signs of brutal reuse. This wasn't a D-Animal that had been born.
It had been built.
Utho.
The thought landed heavy.
She took a few steps closer, examining him carefully. The ligre breathed in irregular cycles, internal motors hissing low, like an animal that never truly slept.
"He was made from Utho's remains, wasn't he?" Elara asked, her voice neutral, without judgment.
Rafael turned his head slowly, cold eyes meeting hers.
"So what?" he replied flatly. "He works. That's what matters."
"He works… but it hurts," she murmured, more to herself than to him.
Rafael clicked his tongue.
"Everything hurts. If it doesn't, you're already dead."
Seung-Woo watched in silence, keeping Lucas close, one steady hand on the boy's shoulder. Lucas, however, looked restless—his eyes scanning the space, far too curious for someone who had already seen so much horror in so little time.
He was the first to move away.
"There…" Lucas murmured, approaching the glass door of the store, cracked into dozens of fine lines like a web about to shatter.
He peered inside.
The smell changed.
There was something different—cold sweat, fresh blood, the metallic scent of human pain mixed with concrete dust.
"There's… there's someone here," his voice came out louder than he intended.
Elara turned immediately.
Through the glass, she saw her.
A woman.
Collapsed among debris, her body partially buried beneath fragments of a fallen ceiling. Her breathing was short, uneven, each inhale accompanied by a wet, pained sound. One leg was trapped beneath a broken beam, bent at the wrong angle—clearly fractured.
"Lucas, step back," Elara ordered, firm.
She tried the door. Pulled. Nothing. The metal groaned, jammed.
Without hesitation, she took a step back and kicked.
The impact echoed too loudly—a sharp crack followed by the unmistakable sound of glass giving way. Fragments burst inward and outward, some skittering across the floor, others chiming as they fell.
The smell of blood intensified.
Elara went in first.
She knelt beside the woman, ignoring the shards beneath her boots.
"Hey… can you hear me?" she asked, voice low and controlled.
The woman nodded weakly.
"Trapped…" she whispered, lips dry. "I can't…"
"I know," Elara said. "We're getting you out."
She raised her wrist.
"Fenrir."
The shadows stirred. The black wolf reappeared, materializing beside the wreckage. He shoved his head beneath the beam, motors growling in a deep snarl. This wasn't brute force—Fenrir trembled, plates grinding under the strain.
"It won't be enough," Seung-Woo said, already raising his arm. "Iron, with me."
The lion emerged in a controlled burst of light and metal. Iron positioned himself beside Fenrir, paws digging into the cracked floor. Together, wolf and lion pushed.
The sound was horrible.
Metal against concrete. Gears screaming. A loud crack as the beam finally shifted enough.
Elara didn't hesitate.
She grabbed the woman's arms and hauled her free, feeling the dead weight of her body slide out of danger. The woman screamed, pain cutting through the air like a blade.
Rafael watched from a distance, arms crossed, foot tapping the ground in a nervous rhythm.
"You trust too fast," he muttered.
"And you trust no one," Elara shot back without looking at him.
The woman panted, her body coated in dust, sweat, and dried blood. She wore simple, durable clothes: a dark, thick-fabric jacket now torn in several places, a tank top beneath stained gray and red, fitted utility pants, worn practical boots—clothes made to survive, not to look good.
She smelled of cold, metal, and contained fear.
Elara checked the leg.
A fracture. Likely exposed earlier, now compressed. She sighed, frustrated.
"I need something to splint it," she murmured, scanning the area.
Nothing.
"Visio," she called mentally. "Find something. Wood, straight metal—anything."
Rafael leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes for a brief moment.
Seung and Lucas knelt beside the woman, helping her stay upright, speaking softly to keep her conscious.
"My name is Catherine…" the woman said between shallow breaths. "Catherine Wolfe."
"Elara," she replied. "This is Lucas. And that's Seung-Woo."
Catherine nodded slowly.
"Thank you… I thought I was—" her voice faltered.
"Not yet," Elara said. "As long as you're breathing, it's not over."
Outside, Visio let out a low chirp.
The world was still burning.
But there—between shadows, rubble, and ragged breaths—a small fragment of humanity refused to go out.
Elara felt Visio's confirmation before the mental panel even fully formed.
The bond pulsed—warm, steady—not an immediate danger alert, but opportunity.
From above, the owl had found something useful.
She closed her eyes for a second, filtering the images Visio sent: a fallen shelving unit a few streets up, part of an old beverage depot. Thick wood, still intact. There was also a loose metal bar—probably part of a security grate torn free by the earlier blast.
"Found something?" Seung-Woo asked quietly, noticing the subtle shift in her expression.
Elara nodded.
"Yes. Two options. Wood and metal. We can improvise."
Rafael opened his eyes slowly, uncrossing his arms.
"I'll get it," he said flatly, already pushing off the wall. "Faster if it's someone who can take a hit."
Before Seung could reply, Kaiser moved with him, the ligre emitting a low, possessive sound. The D-Animal's improvised plates adjusted as he advanced, stepping over rubble as if it were nothing.
Fenrir remained in the shadows, invisible—but Elara felt his presence like a constant chill along her spine.
"Visio, keep watch," she ordered mentally. "No heroics."
The owl responded with a brief pulse of confirmation.
Elara turned her full attention back to Catherine.
As the initial shock wore off, the real pain set in. The Canadian's breathing grew shorter, cold sweat beading at her temples, mixing with dust. The metallic scent of blood became stronger by the minute.
"Koks…" Catherine murmured weakly.
Elara leaned closer.
"Your D-Animal?"
"He… must be trapped," her honey-brown eyes tightened. "I tried to call him… but the link destabilized after the explosion."
That explained a lot.
A rank D Occlusion-class D-Animal, injured or isolated… vulnerable.
Elara rested a hand on her wrist, feeling her own D-Armilla hum softly beneath the skin.
"When this is over, we'll deal with that too," she promised. "You won't be alone."
Catherine inhaled deeply and nodded in silence.
Lucas watched everything with an intensity beyond his years. He clutched Seung-Woo's sleeve, but his eyes never left the woman's injury or the surrounding space. Fear was there—but so was something more dangerous: adaptation that was happening too fast.
Elara noticed. It troubled her more than any Indômita ever could.
"Lucas," she said, firm but gentle. "Look at me."
He obeyed.
"Take a deep breath. Trust me. You don't have to understand everything right now, okay?"
The boy swallowed and nodded.
"Okay…"
A distant boom echoed through the city.
Not close—but enough to make the building shiver slightly. Dust drifted from the ceiling like a fine mist.
Seung-Woo rose slowly, walking to the shattered entrance and scanning outside. Iron stayed beside him, motionless but alert—the unmistakable posture of a Warrior-class D-Animal ready to react in less than a second.
"There's still movement to the south," Seung said. "But nothing coming straight at us… for now."
Elara knew what that meant.
For now never lasted.
Time stretched until Rafael returned.
He emerged from the debris like an irritated specter, carrying a thick wooden plank under one arm and a metal bar in the other. Kaiser followed closely, several of Kaine's smaller spiders crawling over the ligre's plates like living shadows.
"Will this do?" Rafael tossed the wood to the ground near Elara.
"Perfect," she replied without hesitation.
She worked fast.
She used the metal bar as the main support, carefully aligning it along Catherine's injured leg. The wood served as lateral stabilization. Elara tied everything together with improvised bindings—strips of fabric torn from a fallen curtain, reinforced with electrical tape Rafael tossed down without saying where it came from.
Catherine groaned in pain as the leg was set.
"Breathe with me," Elara said. "Now."
She guided the rhythm, firm and steady.
When she finished, Elara wiped her forehead, leaving a dark streak of grime and sweat.
"It's not pretty, but it'll hold," she said. "Avoid unnecessary movement."
Catherine let out a weak laugh.
"I've had worse," she paused. "But… thank you."
Rafael watched in silence now.
Something had shifted in his gaze—not softness, not even close—but a contained tension, as if every one of Elara's actions cracked something he preferred to keep sealed.
"You do this a lot?" he asked suddenly.
"What?"
"Get involved," Rafael clarified. "Risk your neck for people you don't even know."
Elara met his eyes, too tired to lie.
"Not always," she said. "But when I don't… I can't sleep afterward."
Silence.
Even Seung-Woo seemed to consider the answer.
Visio returned with an urgent pulse.
Elara felt the alert cut through the bond like ice.
She stood at once.
"Movement from the east," she said, already addressing everyone. "Not big, but fast. Two… maybe three."
Rafael snapped his fingers.
"Ferus?"
"Not confirmed," Elara replied. "But I don't want to find out the hard way."
Seung-Woo nodded.
"Iron stays rear guard. Fenrir in the shadows." He looked at Elara. "You choose the route."
She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on her wounded shoulders.
"Then we get everyone out of here," she said. "Before the city decides to collapse for good."
The group began to move.
Slowly. Carefully. Through rubble, smoke, and the lingering stench of destruction.
And above them, Visio continued to watch—keen eyes beneath a sky that no longer promised salvation, only survival.