When I came to, my mind slowly began to drift upwards, rising from the depths of unconsciousness.

Even though my eyes were closed, the world was still bright. Too bright. The surface beneath me was hard, yet had some give to it. Just enough that it was somewhat bearable. I flipped myself over, burying my face into my arms.

I felt something rise in my chest, a heavy feeling. A feeling I couldn't hold back. It rose and rose, bubbling to the surface. I leaned over, pulling my head from the safe darkness, vomiting onto the floor. I kept an arm over my eyes, blocking out the worst of the invasive light.

I coughed, retching from the taste in my mouth. With a groan, I turned my head away from the bile, hoping none of it had gotten on me. I still felt groggy, and my body was sore. My mind wandered, and I was reminded of the Soulburn incident. The hours of training, only to end up having that time wasted. For all my hard work, I'd suffered. My body had been tender. It had been painful to move for days. This wasn't nearly as bad, but the thought left me unwilling to get up.

Without raising my head, I stretched my legs out as far as they would go, turning them while pushing my toes out, trying to work the worst of the soreness and stiffness out of my system. I swapped the arm guarding my sensitive eyes, stretching the limb relieved from duty out to the fullness of its length, spreading my fingers apart before curling them into a fist once again.

I wasn't sure how long I'd been lying there, drifting in and out of empty sleep. My mind was a haze, and I'd only been half registering what was happening, and what had happened. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I felt a thick ball of emotions threatening to bubble to the surface. With deep breaths and a [Silent Heart], I buried the feelings, not having the energy or willpower to process them right now.

I needed logic, not pointless, poisonous feelings clouding my judgement.

With my eyes still closed, I began to get up. After a few tries, I scraped myself off the hard surface, half-lying on my hands and knees. I took deep breath after deep breath, building up a glob of spit in my mouth before adding to the pile of vomit on the floor. It got the worst of the taste from my mouth. One less unnecessary distraction gone.

I let out another puff of air, slowly cracking open my eyes. Blinding whiteness clouded my vision, yet I forced my eyes to stay open, letting them adjust. I was half-lying on a mattress, one leg hanging off the side. It wasn't a good one, either. It was clean, but stiff. I pressed a hand down on it, finding that it had far less give than the one back at my house. That had no doubt contributed to the stiffness in my body.

One thought led to another, and I was forced to stop and take stock. I wasn't at my house. I closed my eyes again, casting my mind back. I remembered the fight with the Dullahan. The job hunting Bogworms. The fight with the Direwolf. Sigura getting an arm crunched to pieces. Then... nothing.

My memories ended there, leaving me with no clues as to where I was.

I took another deep breath, flipping myself around. I sat up on the mattress, pulling the baby blue sheet over my crossed legs as I looked around. I was in a small room, white and sterile. I was surrounded on all sides by pristine white walls, with not a single window in sight. The floor was the same colour as the sheets, marred only by a puddle of my own vomit. Light shone down from overhead, the same bright white that had stung my eyes upon waking. It still hurt, but I'd adjusted enough to ignore it.

By the back wall I saw a toilet and sink. I rubbed both hands over my warm temples, wishing I'd known that before I'd gotten sick on the floor. I could have avoided the smell of vomit distracting me altogether if I'd been more aware.

I pulled off the covers, slowly standing on trembling legs, my breaths long and deep. I walked along the cold floor, dutifully checking for anything I might have missed. I shivered from the feeling of the floor on my feet. I wasn't wearing my boots or socks anymore, and my scales weren't providing any worthwhile relief. I was wearing a white hospital gown with short sleeves, one that went down past my knees. What struck me the hardest was the loss of my gauntlets. They had always been a reminder of my hard work, a reminder of where I'd come from. My hands looked so much smaller without them.

I ran my bare fingers along one of the walls. It was cold to the touch, metallic. Along the front wall I saw a thin line, a divide between two parts of the surface no wider than a fingernail. It was a straight line from the bottom up. It didn't seem to reach the ceiling, either. I couldn't reach that far to check, but the line stopped not far from the highest point I could reach if I stood on my toes.

I guessed it was a doorway, since nothing else in the room suggested there was another way I had been left here. It could be a room I was magically placed in, or a pocket dimension, but I doubted it. Pocket dimensions didn't typically come with plumbing. After a brief examination, both the sink and toilet worked.

The vomit was beginning to bother me, but there was little I could do about it. If the floor had a drain, perhaps I could have used the water from the sink to gradually wash it away, but I couldn't. I returned to the bed, sitting down as I pulled the covers over me.

With nothing left to examine, I was forced to think about my situation. The last thing I remembered was the fight against the Direwolf. This room seemed too sterile and harsh to be a dream, but I had no idea how I ended up here if this was reality. I had access to running water, but I didn't know if it was safe to drink. If I was stuck here, I'd have to drink it sooner than later. The only other liquid in the room was the puddle of vomit. That would be a last resort.

There was nothing in here I could eat. At best, I could eat the end of my tail. If I did, I know it'd grow back eventually. Shivers ran down my spine as I closed my eyes. Last resort.

The thought of food got my stomach rumbling. Could I use how hungry I felt to judge how long I'd been here? My stomach shook angrily in response. I decided to stop thinking about food.

I would have access to metal if I found a way to pick apart the bed frame. I didn't have any tools to work with, either. Fashioning the metal into a weapon or anything I could use was out of the question. If it came down to it, I might be able to break one of the legs of the bed off of the walls. If I had a makeshift spear... no, I wasn't living in the wild. There wasn't a weapon that would matter here. No enemy or animal I could kill if I had the chance. Could I use it as a tool for something? If I stuck it into the crack in the wall, I might be able to use it as a crowbar to pry the 'doorway' apart. I filed that thought away for later, pleased with myself.

I took stock. I was hungry, but not thirsty. Inconvenient, given the resources I had at my disposal. I was wearing nothing but this gown. Just to be sure, I checked over my body, running my hands over skin and scale. My hands stopped at my neck, where I found a thin, cold collar. It felt metallic, but I couldn't see what it was made from. Having finally obtained an objective, I leapt out of the bed and made my way to the toilet.

I gazed down into the toilet bowl, looking down into the water. It wasn't a clear reflection by any measure. My skin and scales wobbled and shook in the unsteady water, as though my body were splitting apart. I raised my chin, revealing the collar. There was a design etched into the thin black metal, but I couldn't make out what it was. While it could have been a rune, I had my doubts. I focused on the collar, but felt no response from my Soul. Either I had no way to trigger it, or it wasn't a rune.

I pulled my eyes away from my broken reflection, returning to the bed. My breaths felt heavier now that I knew I was wearing a collar. It felt tight, restrictive. Without anything else to look at, my thoughts fell to my shaking chest. I lay down on the bed, covering myself with the blanket. My knees rose to meet my chest, which inflated and deflated with slow, careful movements, breathing deeply. Shakily. I closed my eyes.

After that, I couldn't find sleep. I drifted in and out of consciousness again and again, but when I lost my focus, my breathing became shallow. Anxiety and fear rushed through my body and jolted me awake, forcing me to start the process over from the start to avoid sinking. Once again, my emotions were getting in the way. I didn't know what I was going to do, and the growling of my stomach only got louder and more intense.

During my attempts to rest, I saw visions. Flashes of the past that seemed faraway, shrouded by confusion and a drowsiness I couldn't shake. In the grip of half-sleep, I imagined the Direwolf, snarling as it approached me, Sigura and Dairen. My stomach rumbled, and I shivered at the thought of the beast's gaping maw. The sight of Sigura's cracked, ruined arm twisted-

"ATTENTION, SUBJECTS. YOUR DOORS WILL BE OPENING SHORTLY. PROCEED TO THE CAFETERIA IN AN ORDERLY FASHION. ATTEMPTS TO ESCAPE, CAUSE HARM TO OTHERS OR DAMAGE THE FACILITY WILL BE MET WITH A SWIFT PUNISHMENT. THAT IS ALL."

I shot up in the bed so fast I could have gotten whiplash. My eyes darted around the room, looking for the source of the voice. It had been a male's voice, muffled and mildly distorted. It sounded faintly familiar, like one I'd heard in a dream, but I couldn't place it. More voices began to speak, the accent different. The monotonous tone was the same, but the words had changed. They were spoken in languages I couldn't recognise. Some fluid and beautiful, others scratchy and hard to listen to.

My sight landed on a spot above the 'door'. Above the thin line was a ring of pale blue light coming from a circle etched into the metal. I leapt to my feet, the heel of my foot splashing into the puddle of vomit. It was a disgusting feeling, but it was the furthest possible thought from my mind at that moment.

Another blue light began to spread from the top of the 'doorway' crack, slowly making its way down towards the floor. My eyes followed it, trailing its journey down towards the end. It reached its destination, forming a neon line in the surface of the wall. I heard a groaning sound as metal parted from metal, the wall splitting to create an exit.

Instinctively, I triggered my [Camouflage]. My body became transparent, and I readied myself to dart out of the room. Would I need to fight? My eyes shot to the bed. I wouldn't be able to sharpen one of the legs of the bed into a spear now, but a rod of iron would be better than going bare-handed. If I took it, would that be seen as 'disorderly'? If I had a weapon, I might be seen as a threat more than if I went without one. Not wanting to put myself in harm's way, I ignored my screaming instincts. I left the bed alone.

With a whoosh of air, the walls stopped moving, revealing the space beyond.

There weren't any guards, or enemies carrying weapons that I could see, something that struck me as odd. If I had been captured by [Slavers], they would have made sure I was unarmed. The use of the word 'subject' made me think I was in some sort of testing ground, but that didn't sound right either.

I stepped out of the room, keeping to the wall as I went, one hand staying on the smooth surface. I moved cautiously into the corridor, one that was just as sterile as the room I'd come from. There were people around, but none were obviously armed, bar natural weapons like fangs and claws. All of them wore the same clothes I did. Hospital gowns going down to the knees and thin metal collars. Neon lines split walls apart, opening up more doorways into adjoining rooms. People of all sorts emerged. Humans, Half-Elves, Dwarves, Gnomes, Adepts, Beastfolk, Goliaths and many others I couldn't identify. With a deep breath, I followed the flow of people.

The air felt thin as I walked, my gait slow and mechanical. The atmosphere was heavy with emotions, feelings permeating the corridor, making it feel as though I were wading through mud. Sadness, melancholy, stillness. It all felt distant to me, something I was immediately glad for. I tore my eyes away from the other prisoners. Deep breaths. Keep my eyes forward, and my mind on the task at hand.

The voice from the ring had spoken of a cafeteria. I needed to get food, first and foremost, ideally without attracting attention. I wanted answers, but those came secondary. I was thankful for my ability to think clearly and form objectives. Other Humanoids and Beastfolk didn't have the luxury of a [Silent Heart]. Without it, I wasn't sure what I'd be doing. It was hard to imagine figuring out any sort of plan with emotions getting in the way.

The corridor twisted as I walked. On the way through the endless expanse I spotted a pair of doors, much more obvious than the concealed cell I'd been held in. Heavy, metal and locked, each with a plastic panel next to it, a blurred mist of soft blue light lurking just behind it.

I took my hand off the wall as I passed it, not wanting to trigger anything magical. I squeezed my fingers inwards, claws jabbing into palms. Not having something for my hands to do in a situation like this made it harder to keep my breathing steady. The warm trickle of blood down my palms helped me focus. I sighed with relief as I returned to the wall, my hands once again finding purchase on the smooth, reliable surface.

That same surface widened, curving outwards as the corridor became a large open space.

The 'cafeteria' was a dome-shaped room, so tall I couldn't see the top, only a nebulous shadow. Fluorescent lightning pointing downwards bathed the room in a harsh neon white. The ceiling was artificial and out of sight, a far cry from the sky I'd started to take for granted. I took a long, deep breath.

Even the crowd of people walking, murmuring and forming groups with one another were cast in the light, bathed in a neon glow so harsh that those farther away from me were harder to see, silhouettes without distinct features.

The floor was divided, sectioned off into rings by hollow metal protruded up to knee height. Each hollow 'ring' formed a small empty trench that reminded me of a pig's trough. Despite the bits of gristle and grime stuck to the metal, there wasn't anything edible. I wasn't desperate enough to pick at the remains, either. Not yet. More indistinct people flooded into the chamber, coming from hallways on all sides.

My breathing became shallow, my legs quaking beneath me. I forced myself to stop and close my eyes. I focused on breathing. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Annoying. Imagine the emotions as a ball, rolled up and conveniently trapped together. Exhale, release the ball with the motion, freeing the mind from distraction.

There wasn't any food in the cafeteria. That was what I'd learned.

I'd reached a wall, one that stood between me and achieving the goal I'd set for myself.

If I couldn't get food, I had to wait here until I could. If the intercom had called people to the cafeteria, there would surely be food provided here soon, unless the cafeteria served another purpose. I wanted to find a spot where others wouldn't crowd around the troughs. With hesitant steps I wandered the edges, keeping away from the larger prisoners. I didn't want to be near any Beastkin either. If any of them with [Enhanced Senses] could smell me, they might find me suspicious for trying to hide. The last thing I wanted to do was make enemies in this place, especially while I was unarmed.

As I went deeper into the hot bowels of the cafeteria, my worries of being sniffed out shriveled up into nothing. The heat and sweat of so many people packed together was overpowering. One hand clamped over my nose, trying to drown out the stench. I couldn't imagine what it must be like for people with senses stronger than mine. My eyes darted around wildly, looking for a space I could call my own. At this point, I'd take anything.

A pack of Inura held a space near the western door. They had their arms crossed and chests puffed out, confident. Judging by the colouration of their fur, they might have been a husky variant.

Should I try speaking with them? I'd never spoken with full Inurans before, but from what I'd learned from hearsay and literature, they were fair. Paragons of loyalty that wouldn't harm someone without good reason.

But... no, I couldn't risk making a poor judgement call based on things I'd heard. Not now. Not here. I didn't know these people, so I couldn't trust them. As I walked away, I glanced back at them, tempted for just a moment. I took a deep breath to quell the angry butterflies in my stomach, pushing onward.

I continued to walk, my body unseen by others. Even if I was difficult to see, prisoners bumped into me more than once. The contact was warm, but not in a pleasant way. Sweat from others stuck to me as they unwittingly bumped into my transparent form. The air was knocked from my lungs as something barreled into me. I fell hard, landing on the cold ground as scale and skin scraped against the floor. I winced, my [Camouflage] going down. Still trembling and breathing hard, I made it to my hands and knees without being trampled. I looked up, spotting a fat, bulbous Dwarf rubbing his hands together next to a metal trough, squinting against the flourescent lights. The man didn't even seem to notice he'd struck me.

Climbing to my feet, I continued the journey towards my goal. More bright faces and nondescript folk, an endless sea of bodies. I wove my way around a group of blue and white scaled Snake Adepts, all of whom incessantly hissed at one another, their 'gowns' wrapped around their necks like bandannas. I was careful to keep my distance.

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No matter how much I wanted there to be one, no safe, empty space presented itself. Part of me wanted to retreat to the room I'd woken up in. I recoiled at the thought. I couldn't. I'd formed a plan in my head, and I had to stick to it. If I derailed myself, there was no telling what could happen. Above all else, I didn't want to sink into a sea of doubt and indecision. If I began to question myself now, where would it end?

While walking through the sea of skin, fur and scales, I struck gold. Through the crowd, I saw a familiar figure. My heart soared with relief, and a few tears came to my eyes, unbidden. Their claws were extended, eyes darting wildly around. The look in them was openly hostile, as if inviting a challenge. Their gait was careful yet proud, ready for battle at any moment. One arm was wrapped entirely in bandages, trapped in a sling.

"Sigura," I whispered, moving up next to her. "It's me."

Her head whipped around in my direction, the look in her eyes feral.

"You're alive," she said, none of the tension leaving her body. "Thank fuck. I was sure they'd killed and dumped you in a river somewhere. I guessed you and Dairen were dead after I hadn't seen either of you on the first day."

I blinked, standing close to her with my tail wrapped around my legs. I stayed close to the entrance she'd come from, my back against one of the troughs by the wall. It was still packed. Still warm, sticky and filled with people. But it felt more like home here than it had anywhere else.

"The first day...?" I whispered, thankful that nothing was looking our way. "How long have we been here?"

"I've been awake for nearly a week. I don't know where the fuck we are, but some people here don't even speak Selvanian Common. Wherever those butterfly freaks took us, it's far from home."

I took a long, deep breath, working hard to suppress the lump forming in my stomach, a ball of iron that threatened to weigh me down to the point of immobility.

"...Butterfly?" I squeaked, my voice barely audible to my own ears.

Sigura lifted her head, pointing at the collar on her neck. I saw the symbol again, the one I'd noted back in the room. Now I could see it up close, in full detail. It was as she described, an etching of a butterfly, carved into the metal with thin, flowing lines, like a [Lord's] script.

"Recognise it?" Sigura asked. "I hadn't a fucking clue who these bastards were until I started asking around. If they're such a big deal, choosing butterflies as their symbol was a real stupid idea."

"Transformation. Progress. Evolution. To them, it is a symbol of such things," came a voice to my left.

The tone was gentle, but carried an accent to it that I couldn't place, one that made the words longer, more sonorous. I turned my head, looking deep into the eyes of a monster.

It was much taller than me or Sigura, easily standing at the brink of nine foot. Its body was spindly and limber, covered head to toe in bright pink fur. Its hands and feet were tipped with dark reddish claws, each of which had two fingers and a thumb. The feet had two toes at the front, and one poking out the back, more like the talons of a bird than the foot of a man. Its face was vulpine, like that of an Inura, but what stuck out to me was the top of its head. I raised a hand to cover my mouth, anticipating vomit that never came. My stomach was too empty, but I shuddered on the spot.

I could see its brain, long and pulsating. Its skull didn't cover the brain, which seemed to hang down along its back. Instead of sagging and flopping around, it looked strangely light, flowing more like hair than skin or muscle.

My first thought was immediate. I'd never seen anything like this before, but I knew what it was. I took a step back. This monster was a-

"I am not a Chimera," the monster spoke, looking directly towards me. Its eyes carried a melancholy that I'd never seen in the gaze of a monster. An implicit intelligence. "This is a facility where such things are born, but I am not of their kind. Not yet."

I took a hurried breath, my lungs rushing to fill to the brim, burying my budding panic somewhere deep, deeper than I'd known they could go. If Sigura hadn't attacked it on sight, then it wasn't something I needed to worry about. Doubt whispered at the back of my mind, but my breath buried even that.

"What... are you then?" I asked.

"He's a monster, obviously," Sigura drawled, stepping in. "This guy's been following me around for the past few days. Can't seem to shake him off either. Started wishing I was more like you, Yur. If I had your [Camouflage], I wouldn't have to worry about this walking tumor stalking me everywhere."

"I have seen it too often," it said, its shoulders slumping as both arms hung limply at its sides. "Young ones come here, brazen and rash. They rush to fight, to prove themselves strong and not to be trifled with. To attain solitude and respect. They are crushed, maimed beyond recognition by desperate prisoners looking for an excuse and an outlet, only to be taken by the Dolls, never to be seen again."

"Yeah, that," Sigura said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder in the monster's direction. "That's the sob story it told me on the first day. It's got some mind reading schtick, said it knew I was going to try kill someone if I was left alone. Hasn't fucked off since."

It turned its head, and the brain moved with it. It swayed with a strange fluidity, like a log being gently pulled through water. Mesmerising.

"This young one has assured me that was not the case, but I have my doubts."

Sigura narrowed her eyes. She stepped forward, grabbing me by the arm as she roughly led me away from the monster. The ground rumbled beneath our feet, and I forced myself to stop as the sound of grinding metal reached my ears. The vibrations only made me feel more unsteady. My breaths came quicker as I stood closer to Sigura. I looked around, watching as pillars of blue light shone up from within the troughs. It didn't illuminate the top of the dome, but it seemed to muffle some of the harsh, flourescent lighting. With an annoyed tug, Sigura pulled me along once again.

"We'll figure something out, got it?" Sigura told me, her voice quiet. "We'll get out of this shithole, one way or another. We just have to figure out how."

I nodded, not responding. I didn't know what to say. I didn't have my tools, and I didn't want to escape alone with my [Camouflage], even if I could. The security in this facility had to be tight, but I wouldn't let go of hope. I didn't know how we'd get out. We just would, somehow. I knew we would. We had to.

As Sigura pulled me along, my senses were assaulted by the scent of meat, fish, mushrooms and herbs, all mashed together without any apparent rhyme or reason. The scent was overpowering, but it was a welcome change from the stench of warm bodies clumped together. I saw Sigura recoil for a moment, her tail curling into itself. I thought about how hard it must be for a Nekari's sense of smell. Maybe I could try building her a mask to keep out the smell later, provided I found some materials to work with. She pushed onwards.

Sigura dragged me to one of the troughs by the walls, where the group of Inura had been waiting. The inside of it was completely filled with meat. Looking at it, I felt immediately thankful that there were other types of food available. If the rest of the food was prepared like this, I didn't put much hope in my sustained survival. I couldn't see the metallic base of the trough beneath layers of meat. Much of it was red or pink, raw. Some had been cooked, judging by the colour, but none of it looked hot, or even warm. I didn't see a single wisp of steam rising from the food, only shards of neon blue peeking up through the cracks between the meat.

The group of Inura greedily dug into the meat, picking up chunks of food at a time. They made no distinction between raw or cooked, shoving whatever they could get their hands on into their mouths, tearing it apart with sharp canines. The sight of it nearly made me lose my appetite. They didn't eat like people would, but instead like wild animals. It was worrying.

I cast a glance over my shoulder. The area where I could smell herbs wasn't nearly as crowded. I felt a small pang of relief for that. Meat could be harmful if it wasn't cooked properly, but the right herbs could be eaten regardless of how badly it was prepared.

Sigura's cheeks were stuffed to the brim with food. I hadn't heard her stomach rumbling, but she must have been ravenous with how quickly she was shovelling food into her mouth. The other Humans and Beastfolk around the trough seemed to be doing much the same, forming a churning sea of flailing arms grasping greedily for food. I watched her reach for chunk after chunk with a single arm, picking up a new lump before swallowing the last. It was a little much for me, so I left her alone. I kept an eye on her as I made my way to the area with the plants.

I didn't recognise much. There were plants and fungi lying in the trough, just as thickly filled as that of the meat. Few of them were from the area around Addersbrook. I'd felt confident I could identify poisonous plants from safe ones, but now I was beginning to lose my nerve. Would our captors give us poisoned plants? That would defeat the purpose of catching us in the first place, wouldn't it?

I gingerly picked up a fruit covered in thick leaves, sniffing at it. I thought of our captors again. The crowded people, the sight of monsters, the symbol of the butterfly. There was only one answer that made sense. The Chimera Organisation. The idea that we'd been caught by a group like that felt surreal, a feeling I worked hard to keep going with every breath. This dream-like feeling was better than facing reality, especially when the realisation was like something out of a horror story.

"That will not harm you," a voice said behind me, causing me to shudder. I turned, looking up at the monster that had followed Sigura.

"Why did you follow me?" I snapped. "Who are you?"

The monster slowly leaned down, taking a long, deep breath from the trough. He picked up a fruit, the same type of pink-orange fruit I was holding, and took a bite from it.

"I am Yrlack. I followed because you too worry me, young one," he said, licking the juices of the fruit from his lips.

"I don't pick fights," I responded, gingerly biting into the fruit. The taste was almost painfully sweet, but I forced it down.

"No," he agreed. "But you would, if not for the crutch that is your Skill. Your breathing keeps you from seeking to harm. To express."

He knew of my [Silent Heart]. It didn't matter. He was wrong. I felt insulted that this monster thought he knew me, even though we'd just met. Who was he to try and label me like he was? The feeling of indigantion was instantly pushed down.

"I wouldn't try to-"

He wasn't looking at me. I took a long, deep breath, smothering the feelings of irritation that threatened to bubble to the surface. He was looking at Sigura now. Her one good fist was clenched around a slab of meat, her expression outright murderous. Holding the other end of the meat was a Beastfolk, well built and covered in scars. His left leg looked weaker, thin and covered in reddish patches, a pale mockery compared to the rest of his powerful form. The Beastfolk's mouth was stretched into a grin, the horns atop its head large and threatening. It released a puff of air from the end of its rounded snout. It was a Minotaur.

The monster walked towards them, and I cautiously followed, keeping the fruit in hand.

Both were gripping the meat, but it wasn't an even contest. Sigura was far smaller than the Minotaur, and only had use of a single arm. The Minotaur stood tall, the meat gripped between his thumb and forefinger. Neither tugged at the meat, both for different reasons.

"Let go," Sigura growled, her tone dangerous. It was a familiar tone, but it brought with it no sense of relief. Not here.

"Or what?" the Minotaur huffed. He pushed air from his snout, the force pressing Sigura's hair back. "You gonna scratch me with those little kitty claws?"

"I'll fucking claw your eyes out with them if you test me," she spat back, her nails digging into the meat.

The monster got close, and I saw the Minotaur narrow his eyes at it. Even if he was busy fighting with Sigura, he had the wisdom to be wary of it.

"Can't do nothin' yourself, can ya? Gonna get your freak to fight me instead?" The Minotaur sneered.

I looked to the people around us. Most were still eating, oblivious to- no. Not oblivious to the conflict. Instead, they were eating just as fast as before, making the most of the distraction. The group of Inura were smiling, chatting to one another as they watched. They weren't positive smiles ready to leap to our aid, either.

I knew exactly what was going to happen next. I ran to the trough, running my hand through the contents in search of a shard of bone or a tooth. Even a very tough slab of meat would do. Something I could use as a weapon.

I didn't have the time to find something so convenient.

"I could take you with one hand tied behind my back," she declared. "Lucky for you, I'm already one arm short. Maybe with two arms gone you'll have enough of a handicap."

The Minotaur growled beneath his breath. I heard him dragging up phlegm from the depths of his throat before spitting into Sigura's face. It splashed against her cheek, covering the side of her face closest to me, glowing a bright white from the florescent lighting. The group of Inura cheered, howling in unison.

I turned my head just in time to see the fight truly start. I had known it was coming, but I was powerless to stop it.

In one motion, Sigura tugged on the meat. The Minotaur smirked, pulling it towards himself with the intention of dragging her forward. She let go of the meat, letting it slap against his stomach, distracting him for just a moment as she sprang forward, raking her claws along his weak leg. She drew blood, and the Minotaur howled.

How could I help? My options were limited. I didn't have any ways to strike the Minotaur unarmed. There wasn't anything I could use in the trough, either. If my magic was more developed, perhaps I could have found a way to create something that could be used against the Minotaur. I missed my gadgets that gave me power, and I missed the rose pin that gave me strength. As it stood, I was useless. I despised that feeling, now more than ever.

The red patch of skin Sigura had slashed seemed as though it were bubbling, and I saw the Minotaur grit his teeth against the pain. I heard a soggy squelch as the meat hit the floor. The Minotaur clenched his hand into a fist, swinging his arm around towards Sigura. She got down on three limbs, ducking below the swing. I saw her gasp from the pain. Moving with that broken arm wasn't easy. His fingers uncurled as he reached for her. She dashed below his arm, craning her head forward as she ran. She bit down, her fangs snagging on flesh. She didn't stop running, and I saw the muscles on her legs strain as they worked as hard as they could. The sickening ripping sound that followed caused many heads to turn.

Sigura, facing away from me, rose to her full height. She turned, her grin hidden behind a patch of reddened skin and brown fur. She spat the flesh from her mouth, revealing the blood-caked smile beneath, the liquid mixing with that of the florescent spit.

"Well? I didn't even have to use my hands that time. You're a fucking joke," her tone was mocking, spoken loud enough for others to hear.

The Minotaur's leg wobbled, but he didn't fall. The man trembled with rage, the grinding of his teeth audible beneath his heavy breathing. Minotaurs were infamous for their temper and physical power, but those things meant nothing if he couldn't hit Sigura. If she continued to dodge, there was nothing he could do.

That was what I thought until the Minotaur started glowing.

At first, it seemed like a trick of the light. Back in Addersbrook, I had often looked up at the street lights during the night. If I squinted, the light would become a fuzzy blob of faint colour that seemed to expand further than the light itself. That was what I was reminded of as I watched the Minotaur.

For a few seconds, his skin was covered with a strange fuzziness that made his fur lose definition. It expanded, extending several millimeters from his body. Then, the light sharpened, a thick brown glow that seemed to roll and flow over his skin and fur. Black shapes floated within the glow, nebulous lines that I couldn't identify. I could make out the definition of his muscles and fur beneath the light, but it seemed like something more now. I could feel the anger and combat experience emanating from him, as though it were a tangible thing beyond simple body language. As though the glow was projecting an impression.

Sigura's eyes widened in shock and frustration as the Inura began to cheer, urging the Minotaur on. She flexed the claws on her hand and feet, taking a deep breath. I could see it in her eyes. She was getting into the zone, giving the fight her all. Her anger still bubbled beneath the surface, but it was buried beneath honed focus.

The Minotaur's hooves stomping forward reverberated against the metal floor, the sound echoing as he slowly and steadily approached Sigura with powerful steps. She crouched low, ready for the oncoming blow. The Minotaur pulled his arm back, preparing himself for the strike. He had more reach than Sigura, but she was significantly faster. The blow seemed too telegraphed to not be some kind of trap. The Minotaur might have been foolish, but he wasn't inexperienced. From a glance at the aura around him, I could tell that much with ease.

"LOOK OUT!" I shouted.

She didn't seem to notice. When the Minotaur threw his punch, she sprang into action. The arm missed her by a hair as she put in the minimum amount of energy to dodge, focusing entirely on the offensive. Her arm whipped forward like a snake with fangs bared, ready to rake the Minotaur's chest and duck out of the way of the other arm. The Minotaur smiled.

The space around the Minotaur's arm flashed brown. I couldn't see exactly what had happened as I ran towards Sigura, but... he managed to hit her. I watched the arm swing past her, but that didn't change the reality of Sigura flying backwards, slamming into the metal trough as she cried out in anguish. The Minotaur laughed as the Inura jeered at her. I got to her side, and I could see the tears of pain welling in her eyes as she curled up into a ball, one arm clutching the broken remains of the other. I knelt down next to her, breathing hard.

From somewhere else in the hall, I heard heavy, synchronised footsteps. I looked up, but only saw the Minotaur standing over both of us. For a moment, I thought he was going to attack again. I could see the monster creep up to our right, staying at the edge of the Minotaur's vision. An implicit threat.

"Know your place, Nekari bitch," he snorted, spitting on Sigura again. She flinched from the contact as the glob landed on her forehead, dripping down her face. It covered everything now, a mass of spit mixed with blood and gristle.

The Minotaur began to twitch violently above us before falling on his side. He was still grinning even as he fell to the floor, unable to coordinate his movements. Standing behind him was a group of Dolls.

There were four of them, each made of gleaming steel, with thick limbs and empty, emotionless faces, mimicries of life. The group leaned down, each grabbing one of the Minotaur's limbs. As they did, I saw identical runes etched into the circular fingertips of the Dolls. The mark reminded me of a jellyfish, with a cap in the center and multiple tendrils expanded outwards, all glowing a bright neon green.

The Minotaur laughed as they hoisted him, though his voice sounded off with the tremors and periodic jumps running through his body, as though he were being repeatedly tased.

"The instigator will be punished," one Doll said, their voice empty and plain. "Return to your meals."

Then, they turned as one, an unsettling movement, perfectly unified. They jogged away, taking the cackling Minotaur with them. The crowd of bodies hastily parted to allow them through, down a hallway as the metallic doors closed behind them.

"Are you alright?" I asked quietly, looking back down towards my injured teammate. The chattering around us began to fade as people returned to their food.

"Fuck," she whispered, barely audible. "Bastard cheater... how the fuck..."

The monster crouched down next to us, but I couldn't look away from Sigura's face.

"Now do you see, rash one? It is unwise to pick fights here. No being who fights in these halls will ever taste victory."

"Fuck you..." Sigura spat. "I... this collar stops magic, right? Then how the fuck... how did he use magic?"

The collars prevented magic? I'd been able to use my Skills just fine, but they weren't magic, exactly. The fact that I hadn't even realised threatened to plunge me down another hole of self-pity. That wasn't what I or Sigura needed right now. I took a deep breath, for both of our sakes.

The monster sighed, shaking his head.

"Magic is the changing of Aera into another form. When you wield it in its pure state, as the Minotaur did, the Ignor will have no effect."

I wasn't sure what he meant by using magic in its 'pure state'. Sigura didn't seem to know either. She grit her teeth, closing her eyes in an attempt to hold back tears. She banged her head against the sheet metal behind her. The tears flowed thicker, leaving trails in the stains across her face.

"Stupid... fuck... I fucking had him, too, that was..."

The monster reached forward, brushing a clawed hand next to Sigura's head. Her expression changed, becoming something of mild confusion, as though she were in a daze. I had no idea what he'd done to her, but she looked calmer. Safer. As calm as she felt, alarm spiked within me. My head whipped towards the monster, but he held no hostility in his expression.

"The pain and damage you feel has been dulled, but it shall not last forever," the monster said, standing. "Nor should it," he finished. I was still looking down at Sigura when he spoke. My eyes tore themselves from Sigura, looking up to see him turn around and leave us alone. I couldn't rise to stop him, nor challenge or question him.

I was certain he'd been speaking to me.