The Wild Aimon had a stumpy little nose almost like that of a pig, and now that he looked at her, those eyes were piercing.

Her breath heavy, her eyes glossed over and her face red, Myron noted. She grunted as she pushed him to the ground and he escaped her grasp. He rolled over his back and stood. “Wait,” He tried to communicate. He took in a deep breath and harrumphed. She remained on her knees, bewildered, her eyes scanned him and it felt like a river had doused him in its cold mountain water.

Then he slapped his face and slapped his chest. He lowered into a stance with wide knees and then slapped those too. “Yo-yoi!” He shrieked in mimicry of something he’d seen from television and gave himself courage. He advanced.

She thrust her hands forward and grabbed his shoulders. He grasped her hair and pulled her down as she threw him to the ground. Her face was now right in front his own as his back crashed to the ground.

He reached up and wrapped his legs around her neck, locked them together and squeezed. She sprung up and flipped him into the sky. He released his lock, shooting off but his palms remained clutching her hair. He flipped, and she grunted in pain as he pulled her ginger mane and landed on her large back with a lot of force.

He put her in a choke hold, his legs locked on her stomach, his knees just under her bountiful chest. Guhum! She gasped for air as she reached for him. Not finding purchase behind her she took the method of brute force. She grabbed a hold of his legs and forced them open. She threw him back and he flew right off, legs first.

Before he even reached the ground she had turned around and wrapped her arms around him. Myron did not quit. The roles when it came to strength may have been reversed but he would show her, that if she wanted to eat him, or whatever it is that Aimon did to unfortunate humans, he would not be so easy.

She did not advance to attack him. Her face warped in a quizzical expression, as if she was about to throw up. She reached forward with her hands but not aggressively. It felt like she was trying to communicate something with him.

“Are you? Can you speak?” Myron asked but received only a glossed over gaze. She didn’t understand him. She cocked her head to the side and then back again.

She took her fingers and jabbed them at her chest a few times, making grunts and humming noises at him. He did the same and she smiled, her teeth as deadly as the rest of her. He shivered just a bit and she seemed to notice.

She poked herself again, and again, and Myron noticed that she was potentially copying something or someone, not truly understanding what she was doing. He stood straight as he tried to figure out this puzzle. His guard dropped. Clearly, she had never meant for the two of them to fight.

“Sorry about the chocking thing.” He mumbled, knowing that she wouldn’t get it but needing to get it off his chest. With a sigh he decided to act. “Being afraid and reluctant won’t give me answers.”

Myron walked, casually, up to the Aimon and within its range. Then he took her hand and put it on his chest, and he pushed his own onto her, careful to avoid being indecent. “I’m assuming this is what you’re trying to tell me. So I’ll open my self up. You do the same. It’s time we bond.”

He said and took a deep breath. Then another, and the world begun to fade. A brilliant smile bloomed on her face, her eyes glimmered.

The next moment they were both in the darkness, in the abyss that stole away sound, but still offered pain. He stood within his own bubble, which is a bit bigger than previously. The only reason Myron can tell is because of how small it is. This time around he can’t stand in the middle and touched the edges of the sphere with his fingers.

Then, not far away, Mery stood within her own bubble.

Myron was surprised he could see her, as he had expected a repeat of the experience he had Bonding with Syl, but it turns out, as he should have expected, each Aimon is different, and each Bonding will be different.

Previously the goal had seemed pretty obvious, in retrospect. This time around he was unsure of what needed to be done to create the pathway that would bind them and allow them to communicate.

Right as he thought of that, a tumor appeared on Mery’s bubble, which then grew out into a limb, it coiled around itself like a spring. “What’re you gonna do with that?” Myron asked before jumping aside, taking his bubble with him. The limb uncoiled and lunged at him like a nail driven to a wall.

Mery chuckled and Myron understood. They were meant to play fight. “Let’s just hope this doesn’t actually damage our souls and we both end up dead.

He begun running in circles, barely managing to dodge the coming strikes, which telegraphed enough, and while doing so formed attacks of his own. Three tentacles wiggled around the sphere of his soul. All three lunged at the coming attack and grabbed a hold of it. Myron lunged forward as he was pulled along by the retreating limb and he slammed into Mery’s sphere with force. His tentacles all gathered into one and slammed into her, spinning around each other to penetrate the defenses of her Soul. She pushed him away at the last moment, as a crack was about to appear and Myron jumped back, just barley dodging another flurry of attacks. He grew even more tentacles, and then some more, till he had a wall in front of him. He worked his mind muscles and transformed them, molding them all together, into a bulwark. He stood with his shoulder up front as if he was hefting that massive structure with his body and slammed into Mery.

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“Haha!” He shouted as he saw Mery struggling to find balance as he kept ramming into her. He stepped heavily onto the ground, which didn’t actually exist, and she morphed her whole soul sphere into a pyramid laid flat. It’s piercing tip poised to break his defenses, to counter the coming charge.

But the attack she expected never came. Myron fell from up high, having used the non existent rules of this world between souls. He came down swinging a hammer at the side of the pyramid which crumbled into shattered glass and shards. His tentacles formed once more and plugged the hole with his own soul.

Myron looked at Mery and she at him. Even as she tried to run away and gain distance. She had already lost. Now a Pathway, a tunnel connected them, one without doors or limits. He stepped through, and once again the golden wave of light bounced to and fro within their soul echo chamber.

“Amazing.” She stated. Her first words.

“Truly amazing. Never been better.” Myron nodded. He wasn’t surprised by her words. Their souls were connected. Her intelligence, no matter where it had been, had just received substance, upon which she could step on, for the first time. She spread her arms and took him in a crushing hug. It was warm, and her body was soft despite the muscle. It was a hug full of gratitude and Myron certainly didn’t mind it.

The harmony of the bond pulsed in his soul, and in that space of acceptance and awakening he truly saw Mery. As if she had always been there just hidden under the spell of less intelligence. All the little facets and intricacies of her life so far, bloomed into life experiences and core memories. She hugged him and the two cradled each other.

“I won.” Myron gloated.

She nodded and a pink waved traveled up her soul and into his own, Myron saw it move around him and he sent back a deep green reassurance. It was only her nature, he thought, there was no reason to be embarrassed for stealing him and forcing upon him something he may have not wanted. It may have taken him a bit but he chose to open his eyes and understand. He had a part in this Bonding too, and once again, as he stated he had won.

“You’re my Aimon now. Let’s hope to a long and prosperous Partnership. I hope you can teach me all you can about your Kind, and I hope to be the best Trainer you could have asked for.” He declared, feeling not only his childish self perk up, but also his sense of responsibility.

Towards Mery, towards Syl, towards any Future Aimon. They fascinated him, and he would not stop Bonding them. He wanted to find out, all about their path to power, their desires, and their intricacies. Meaning that he also had to care for them in all other ways. Physical and Psychological. He would have to work hard to make that a reality.

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I messed up.

Those where Syl’s first thought as she circled back around to the clearing Myron and her had made their shelter for the night. Having only now escaped the pursuit of that blasted Fighting/Fire Pygmaleon, she had been delayed. And Myron was gone.

She retreated into her soul and felt at their bond. Tumultuous emotions crashed into her like waves. She felt him in the distance and begun sprinting towards him. She parsed through the mess of emotions Myron constantly sent their way, the situation he was in.

Facing off against his kidnapper in an attempt to bond her. A battle for Dominance. She nodded. This type of Bond fit the Pygmaleon Line to a T. Whomever had taken him under the nose of their leader was a prime example of her tribe.

[Tremor Sense] She stomped her foot down sending a chunk of Aether into the earth. Her mind came alight with information. For dozens of kilometers the waves of her Aether traveled and brought back precious info. Her gaze sharpened, her pace picked up even more.

Someone was stealthily approaching Myron and that other Aimon. She was awakened, clearly from the way she moved. Syl pushed more Aether into the Passive Skill. She had to rush, but she saw no hope of getting there in time, her only hope was that Myron would not only bond with this young Pygmaleon but even be able to fight and resist the assault of an awakened Aimon for long enough.

I messed up. She thought again.

Surely she should not blame herself, but there was no one but herself to blame. She jumped into the fray, tearing into the easy pray that dared approach her in the night, only to face an enemy that had a Quadruple effectiveness against her, that was also a bit higher leveled and was thus forced to separate from Myron long enough for him to be taken from her.

Why did this happen? She asked even though she knew the answer.

Because she was angry, because she didn’t care. Myron had saved her, and he was proving to be an interesting man. Unbiased, and ignorant to the ways of this world. Even Damien had faults in his logic and his actions. Faults that had been only natural for him, and even for Syl to accept.

He had already gone so far beyond where the average trainer would go. He had proven deeply that he cared for Aimon, and for her. Their relationship had been strong, unbreakable. Not fake or based on using one another. Despite his faults Syl loved him.

And that Love had almost lead her to the ultimate mistake. One which Myron helped her avoid. How did she repay him? By letting her anger and anguish overtake her, by letting him be captured. He was lucky to be alive right now. She was lucky to have returned to their little campfire and had found him missing, instead of half consumed. His clothes into rags. Another trainer dead, another trainer she could not protect.

“Damn it all!” She shouted and transformed into her Monster form. Four powerful legs dug into the earth and shot her forward, her massive claws cut apart any and all obstacles in the path through the forest. She cut a straight line, heading for Myron and… Mery, apparently.

Guilt racked at her even stronger than before. Just how open was their Bond? Just how deep did he let her see? How much from her had he felt and hadn’t said a word? How was Myron so open? So ready to receive and to give?

Did it truly all come form his Skill? Did it come from some silly children’s game he used to play?

Those questions would never be answered if she let him be enslaved at the hands of a desperate wild Aimon. If that happened the Aimon of the world would lose one of their potentially strongest allies. Yes, Syl nodded grimly. She couldn’t hide from it. The man had potential. He had great potential and she had just about squandered it.