D-Animal
— "Rest in peace, Seung…"
The words slipped from Elara's lips almost without sound, dissolving into the heavy air like ashes. There was no ceremony. There was no time. Just that brief, sincere whisper, laden with everything she could not allow herself to feel in that moment.
She stepped away from the body, forcing her feet to move even as something inside her screamed to stay. The world left no space for mourning. It never had.
The ground still vibrated faintly beneath her feet — colossal steps, distant but drawing closer. The Ferus elephants had not given up. Their slow, heavy rhythm was the most terrifying thing of all: there was no hurry, because they knew they would catch up.
Elara took a deep breath, the air burning her lungs.
Catherine was seated where she had fallen, propped on her arms, her face pale, her eyes still far too wide. Her motionless legs before her were a cruel sentence.
Fenrir, at Elara's side, stayed low and alert, shadows flickering around his metallic body like a direct reflection of his mistress's state. He was fast, silent — but small. He couldn't carry more than one person safely.
— "Damn it…" — Elara murmured, running a hand through hair filthy with soot, feeling it rough between her fingers.
Rafael watched everything from atop Kaiser, the ligre motionless like a living wall. Cain hovered above, wings slicing the air in controlled circles, feeding constant images into his master's mind. Lucas remained in front, his face pressed into Rafael's chest, shielded by that large hand still covering his eyes since the cheetah's attack.
The boy was far too quiet.
Elara felt the tightness in her chest, but pushed the thought away. Later. Not now.
She turned slowly, eyes sweeping the destroyed surroundings. Rubble, overturned cars, torn signs, pieces of façades scattered like the bones of a dead city. Then she saw it.
A wide plank, part of an old shelf or door, lying between two piles of broken concrete.
— "That…" — she murmured, already moving.
She ran to the plank, ignoring the pain in her back that burned with every step. She crouched, gripped the wood with both hands, and pulled hard. The plank gave with a loud creak, raising a cloud of old dust that smelled of mold and rotten wood.
— "Visio," — she thought, closing her eyes for a second. — "Look for a rope. Thick. Something that can hold weight."
The response came almost instantly.
Elara's vision overlaid reality: adjacent streets, shattered shop windows, a partially destroyed sporting goods store. At the back, hanging from a crooked hook, a climbing rope — thick, sturdy, coated in dust.
Visio dove.
Seconds later, the metallic sound of wings cutting the air announced her return. The owl landed briefly on a tilted post and dropped the rope, which fell with a dull thud into Elara's hands.
— "Thank you," — she murmured, sincere.
There was no time for hesitation.
Elara dragged the plank to Catherine, kneeling beside her. The woman was trembling, teeth lightly chattering, her gaze lost somewhere distant where Seung's body still lay.
— "Catherine," — Elara said, firm but gentle. — "Look at me."
Catherine blinked a few times before focusing.
— "I… I can't—"
— "I know," — Elara cut in. — "But you're getting out of here. Trust me."
She got to work.
Elara's hands moved with almost mechanical precision. She threaded the rope beneath the plank, adjusting loops, creating support points. Each knot was tightened hard, tested twice. She climbed onto the wood, using her own weight to secure the assembly, ignoring the pain climbing her spine like liquid fire.
As she worked, she didn't look back. Not at Seung's body. Not at the blood on the asphalt. Thinking too much meant stopping — and stopping meant dying.
— "Lie down," — she told Catherine, helping her settle carefully. — "Slowly."
Catherine obeyed, gasping, biting her lip to keep from screaming as the injured leg shifted even slightly.
Elara secured her firmly to the plank, lashing torso and legs safely, leaving enough room to breathe, but none to fall.
— "This is going to shake," — she warned. — "But I won't let go."
She summoned Fenrir with a short gesture.
The black wolf approached immediately, instinctively lowering his body. Elara passed the rope around his back, adjusting the loops carefully, distributing the weight so as not to overload a single joint.
Rafael watched in silence.
His gruff expression hadn't changed, but his eyes followed every movement, alert, assessing. He said nothing — and for someone like Rafael, that alone was a form of respect.
Elara finished the final knot, pulling hard until she felt solid resistance.
— "Done."
She mounted Fenrir right after, positioning herself to balance Catherine's weight behind her. The wolf rose slowly, testing the load, gears adjusting with a low hum.
It worked.
— "Let's go," — Elara said, more to herself than to the others.
Rafael gave a slight nod and Kaiser began to move. The ligre's steps were heavy but steady. Cain climbed higher into the sky, while Visio took position up front, widening the field of view.
The group advanced again.
Behind them, the deep, rhythmic sound of the Ferus elephants grew, each step a reminder that time was running out. The ground trembled beneath gigantic metallic feet.
Elara kept her gaze fixed ahead, her mind working fast.
Where to go?
She couldn't go back home. Not now. Not with that chaos spreading through the city like an infection. She thought of her parents, of Lucas leaving early that morning. She thought of Seung-Woo's parents. She thought of how many homes no longer existed.
Her chest tightened.
— "Hold on just a little longer," — she murmured, her voice almost lost in the wind. — "I'll find a place."
Fenrir ran, silent as a living shadow, dragging Catherine's weight without slowing. Elara felt every impact reverberate through her injured back, but she held steady, teeth clenched.
She still had things to protect.
Her brother.
Her family.
The people still breathing around her.
And as the distant lights of the dead city flickered like tired eyes, Elara pressed on — carrying not only the physical weight of those who remained, but also the invisible weight of those already left behind.
The atmosphere among the four survivors was oppressive, dense as the soot clinging to skin and lungs. There were no more words. Only the rhythmic sound of metallic steps echoing through devastated streets.
Lucas remained atop Kaiser, far too small for a scene far too large. The boy kept his body rigid, clinging to the ligre's structure, while Rafael supported him with a firm, almost automatic arm. Kaine, the spider-king, stayed fixed atop Kaiser's back like a grotesque crown, legs dug into metal joints, sensors blinking low and alert. The other smaller spiders remained attached, motionless, obedient — living shadows upon dead shadows.
In the sky, Cain cut the air in wide circles, maintaining calculated distance, while Visio advanced a few meters ahead, her eyes projecting fragmented maps, intermittent alerts, zones of risk pulsing red in Elara's vision.
Fenrir ran.
The black wolf moved with cruel elegance, weaving past human bodies and metallic carcasses with surgical precision. Sometimes he leapt over a fallen soldier; other times he skimmed past a destroyed D-Animal, claws nearly brushing dented plates, cracked muzzles, extinguished eyes. There was no hesitation. Only instinct and command.
Elara kept one hand tightly closed around Seung-Woo's D-Armilla.
The metal was still warm.
The bracelet felt far too heavy for something so small. She felt the weight not on her wrist, but in her chest, compressing, making it hard to breathe. Each time her fingers brushed the D-Armilla's contour, a fleeting memory surfaced — the restrained smile, the calm posture, the steady voice saying everything would be okay.
She swallowed hard.
Elara's eyes stayed fixed ahead, but her mind fought not to get lost in what surrounded them. Soldiers' bodies lay scattered across the streets, some still clutching weapons, others twisted into impossible shapes. Many were without D-Armillas — removed in haste, in fear, or too late. Some had been partially devoured, the concrete around them stained with dark blood mixed with synthetic oil.
Among them, fallen D-Animals.
Some clearly Ferus, torn apart by military force. Others… not. Others bore marks too clean, too familiar. Plates ripped away by force, circuits exposed, mouths frozen open in a final snarl that never ended.
Uthos.
Elara felt her stomach churn.
— Don't look. — she repeated mentally. — Not now.
The smell was the worst.
Burned metal. Leaked oil. Old blood. Hot dust. A sickly-sweet odor that clung to the back of the throat and made eyes sting. The entire city smelled like an ending.
Fenrir slowed slightly for a moment, veering around a pile of soldiers stacked against a partially collapsed wall. Elara felt the jolt reverberate through her spine, the wounds on her back protesting with a throbbing, insistent pain. She bit her lower lip, refusing to make a sound.
Behind her, Catherine remained tied to the plank, breathing short and uneven. The woman kept her eyes closed, perhaps praying, perhaps simply trying not to go mad from the sounds and smells around them.
Rafael continued in absolute silence.
His cold gaze scanned the streets through shared vision with Cain, calculating routes, angles, shadows. His jaw was locked, facial muscles tense. He said nothing — but his entire body was ready to react.
Lucas, meanwhile, began to tremble slightly.
Rafael noticed.
Without a word, he adjusted the boy's position, pulling him closer against his chest, shielding him from what his eyes didn't need to see. Lucas tightened his fingers in Rafael's jacket, burying his face in the dust- and soot-stained fabric.
— "It's okay…" — Rafael murmured, almost inaudible. It wasn't certainty. It was an empty promise. But it was all there was.
Elara heard it.
And something tightened even more inside her.
She took a deep breath, feeling the rough air scrape her lungs, and lifted her wrist slightly, adjusting Seung-Woo's D-Armilla closer against her body. She wouldn't let go of it. Not now. Not there.
— "Visio," — she thought, firm. — "Any strange movement… alert me."
The reply came as a gentle pulse in her mind.
Ahead, the city continued to crumble into ruins, lit only by distant fires and orange reflections on metallic surfaces. The path promised no safety. Only continuation.
And in that moment, continuing was all that mattered.