medical bay was silent except for the labored breathing of the creature on the table.

The nurses worked quickly, their hands moving with practiced efficiency, but the tension in the room was thick—too thick.

I stood to the side, watching as they prepared their tools, a dull weight settling in my chest.

The lead nurse, a stern-looking woman with sharp eyes, hovered her hand over the creature’s deformed body. A faint glow spread from her fingertips as diagnostic magic pulsed through the beast’s frame.

A second later, she exhaled sharply.

“…This is worse than I thought.”

She waved over an assistant, who quickly laid out several enchanted scalpels and medical tools.

“Let’s start with the tusks,” she ordered. “The ones growing into its mouth—those need to go first.”

A younger nurse hesitated. “But won’t that cause—”

“If we don’t remove them, it won’t be able to eat,” the lead nurse cut in. “It’s already malnourished. If we wait any longer, starvation will finish the job before its body gives out.”

The younger nurse paled but nodded, stepping forward with a steadying breath.

One of the assistants carefully positioned the creature’s head while the lead nurse adjusted the scalpel. With precise, fluid motions, she sliced through the overgrown tusk, severing it cleanly from where it had pierced through the soft tissue of the mouth.

A weak, gurgling noise escaped the beast’s throat.

I winced.

A fresh wave of blood trickled from the wound, but another nurse was already on it—pressing a glowing cloth against the area, the fabric absorbing the blood and slowly knitting the flesh back together.

One tusk down.

They moved to the second one.

This time, when the scalpel cut through, the beast let out a shuddering whimper.

Something inside me twisted.

I clenched my fists.

This thing had suffered.

More than I had initially realized.

They finished removing the last of the inward-curved tusks, and immediately after, the nurse ran another diagnostic spell—her brow furrowing deeper.

“The bone structure isn’t normal,” she muttered. “I was hoping the damage was external, but… no. The mutations go all the way down.”

She moved her hands lower, over the two large bulges near its legs.

A moment later, she cursed under her breath.

“…Its own bones are stabbing through its skin.”

A murmur rippled through the room.

One of the assistants took a hesitant step forward. “Should we—should we try to reset them?”

The nurse’s jaw tightened.

She tried.

With extreme care, she used magic to probe the damaged areas, attempting to realign the bones, to mend what had been twisted beyond recognition.

But the moment she applied pressure—

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Crack.

The deformation snapped back into place like a rubber band, resisting the correction.

A sickening crunch followed.

The beast jerked violently.

And the wound reopened.

The nurse pulled back, shaking her head. “It’s no use.”

Her voice was quieter now.

“There’s too much interference. Too much unnatural energy inside of it. Whatever was done to it… the body refuses to be fixed.”

A heavy silence settled over the room.

My mother rubbed her temples, exhaling sharply. “Then we’ll do what we can. Clean the wounds. Try to stabilize it. At the very least, we won’t let it die in filth.”

The nurses nodded.

More warm water. More gentle hands wiping away dirt, dried blood, and the grime of who knows how many weeks of neglect.

But the more they cleaned, the more they revealed just how broken this beast truly was.

I could see it in their faces.

They didn’t think it would make it.

And deep down—

Neither did I.

The air inside the healing chamber was thick with mana, a soft hum vibrating in the walls as the array worked its magic.

The beast lay motionless at the center, its deformed body barely rising and falling with each breath.

I sat outside, arms crossed, my mind a mess of thoughts.

Chia plopped down next to me, arms resting over her knees.

“You’re being weirdly quiet,” she said.

I glanced at her. “Sorry.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t apologize, dummy. I’m just saying—you’re not usually like this.”

I hesitated, then sighed. “I just feel bad. We were supposed to be looking for your summon today, and instead, we—”

Chia blinked at me, then giggled. "You're being silly, Akul."

I frowned. "What?"

“Are you serious?” Chia cut in, nudging my shoulder. “I don’t care about that. You think I’d rather be out haggling with sweaty merchants than dealing with… him?”

She shook her head, still smiling. "Why are you acting like this is some kind of problem?" She nudged me again with her elbow. "I wouldn’t trade today for anything. Not after seeing this."

I looked back at the beast—its frail, broken form, the unnatural scars lining its hide.

I could barely stand to look at it.

But Chia?

She stepped closer.

Too close.

“Chia—”

Before I could stop her, she was inside the incubation chamber.

I tensed, watching as she crouched beside the beast.

One hand reached out—hesitant, gentle.

Her fingers brushed against its battered skin.

This is crazy.

"Chia, get back," I said sharply. "It's dangerous."

She didn't listen.

Her touch lingered, her thumb tracing over the creature’s deformed shoulder.

And then, in a whisper, she said—

“…Poor thing.”

Those words stung... Even more so, looking at what was left of this beast.

Chia wasn’t scared.

She wasn’t disgusted.

Her face—her eyes—were filled with nothing but pure, aching compassion.

"It didn’t choose this, you know," she murmured. "It didn’t ask to be treated like this."

Her voice was so soft, but the words hit harder than I expected.

I swallowed. "Chia..."

She turned to me, her expression firm now. "I want to help him, Akul. No matter what."

Her hands clenched into tiny fists.

"I don’t care how broken he looks. I don’t care what anyone says. He deserves a chance."

Something about the way she said it made my chest tighten.

I glanced at the beast again.

I had been so focused on how the nursing center can help it—how impossible it seemed to save—that I hadn’t even considered what I can do to save it.

Chia had.

From the moment she saw it, she wanted to do something.

I exhaled through my nose, shaking my head. "You’re unbelievable."

She grinned. "And you’re slow to catch up."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine."

I looked at the beast again, this time really looking.

If she wanted to save it…

I glanced at Bobo, who was curled up near my feet, resting after a long day of training.

I had healed him before. I did help him surpass what he originally was.

I exhaled and placed my palm against the beast’s rough, scarred skin.

Then—

I activated my eyes.

The world around me faded.

A rush of unfamiliar sensations overwhelmed me as my vision peeled away the surface and revealed what was hidden beneath.

I stiffened.

There wasn’t just one energy inside this beast.

There were many.

A writhing, tangled mass of chaotic forces surged beneath its skin—each one different, each one clashing.

I barely had time to process the sight before the sheer violence of these energies hit me.

They weren’t stable.

They weren’t working together.

They were at war.

I watched, my breath caught in my throat, as these unknown forces tore through muscle, shattered bone, and twisted flesh.

This wasn’t some external curse.

This was an internal battleground.

And the beast?

It was losing.

My gaze traced the worst of the damage.

Three points stood out, each pulsing with concentrated chaos:

1. The hunchback – a cluster of burning, frenzied energy, pulsating erratically, like an overcharged mana core ready to explode.

2. The face—particularly the tusks – jagged lines of energy snaked through the bone, forcing unnatural growth, warping them inward.

3. The shoulders – thick, concentrated masses of magic were pushing against the skin, trying to break through in grotesque, unnatural ways.

I swallowed hard.

Even without knowing exactly what these energies were, I knew what they were doing.

They were breaking it down.

They weren’t strengthening the beast.

They were eating it alive.

"I don’t know what you’ll become in the end," I whispered softly, my hand wrapped in power as I pressed it against its skin.

But it's time for your body to fight back, and win this war.