The night wind rushing over the open train carriage brought no coolness; instead, it carried the stench of scorching, ozone, and the metallic tang of drying blood.
Stormclaw stood there, frozen like a statue amidst the creaking metal ruins. His muscular, naked body was buffeted by the fierce gale generated by the train's speed, his soot-stained white fur dancing wildly in the wind. Yet, he felt no cold. The adrenaline from the battle against Reven still surged through his veins, leaving a static residue that made his fingertips tingle.
His amber eyes, pupils narrowed into vertical slits, were fixed on the figure lying at his feet.
A young human man. Naked. Destroyed.
The sight was horrific, even by the standards of Stormclaw, who had seen the insides of Reven's laboratory. The young man's stomach was gaping open—a clean, deep stab wound that penetrated right through to his back. His pale skin was adorned with dozens of precise incisions, as if he had just walked through a storm of razor blades. He looked like a broken doll discarded by its creator.
"Who... are you?" Stormclaw whispered, his voice drowned out by the roar of the wind.
His feline instincts screamed in confusion. His nose caught a familiar scent from the young man—the smell of ozone, ancient dust, and something cold, like the void. A scent that, somehow, made him feel... safe? Or perhaps, obedient? It made no sense. His last memory was Reven's grinning face, the pain of the experimental serum, and then... a red mist of rage.
Why was he standing here, protecting this dying stranger? Why didn't he just run?
Suddenly, a sickeningly wet sound broke his trance.
Squelch. Krrrk.
Stormclaw jerked back a step, ears twitching sharply.
atop the young man's head, a pair of small, red feathery wings—looking entirely out of place on a human body—began to twitch with an agitated rhythm. And then, the grotesque miracle occurred.
The wound in the young man's stomach began to move. Torn flesh seemed to possess a will of its own, knitting itself back together, fiber by fiber, at a speed visible to the naked eye. Pooling blood was sucked back in or evaporated into a thin mist. Broken ribs shifted back into position with dull pops. Even his hands, which Stormclaw was certain had been severed or crushed, began to sprout new tissue—white bone lengthening, wrapped in red sinew, then covered by perfectly smooth, pale skin.
In a matter of seconds, the destroyed body was whole again. Flawless. As if the violence of moments ago was merely an illusion.
"Ugh..."
The young man—Devon—gasped awake. He immediately sat bolt upright, clutching his head as if his brain had just been scrambled. The red wings on his head flapped panic-stricken, mirroring their owner's disorientation.
Devon opened his eyes. His blood-red right eye and pitch-black left eye instantly locked onto the looming figure of Stormclaw in front of him.
"Ehhhhh! Stormclaw!" Devon exclaimed, his voice hoarse but filled with exaggerated relief. He threw his arms out wide, an awkward, beaming smile plastered on his face. "You came! You actually came to save me! Whoa, I swear, I thought you'd turned into roasted cat!"
Stormclaw did not move. He stared at Devon with cold caution, his tail swishing slowly from left to right. There was no recognition in his eyes. Only suspicion.
Devon fell silent, his outstretched arms slowly lowering. His smile faltered.
"Hmm? What's wrong, pal?" Devon asked, his tone slightly hesitant. "It's me. Imortal. Your traveling companion? The guy who gave you that cool name? Come on, don't be shy, give me a warm hu—"
"Back off," Stormclaw growled. Yellow electricity began to crackle around his clenched fists.
Devon froze. His analytical brain spun rapidly. That blank stare. The defensive posture. And most importantly, the absence of the subtle mental connection he had felt before. The purple Nephryss crystal was gone from his chest; stolen by Reven. And with it, the control spell he had used on Stormclaw in the sewers had vanished.
Ah, Devon thought, a drop of cold sweat rolling down his temple. Damn it. The effect wore off. He's back to factory settings.
"Who are you?" Stormclaw asked again, his tone demanding this time. He stepped forward, his shadow swallowing Devon, who was still sitting on the carriage floor. He sniffed the air, nose flaring close to Devon's face. "Why am I here? Why do you know my name? What did you do to me, Human?"
Devon swallowed hard. The tiger-cat's face was too close. He could see the sparks of static electricity in his fine fur.
"Easy... take it easy, Big Guy," Devon said, raising both hands slowly to show he was unarmed. "Just sit down for a second. We're both naked on the roof of a speeding train. The situation is awkward enough without death threats, right?"
Stormclaw hesitated for a moment, then snorted roughly. He backed away slightly, then sat cross-legged on the cold floor of the carriage, his eyes never leaving Devon for a second.
Devon let out a long sigh. He shifted his sitting position to be more comfortable, staring at the flames still licking at the remains of the carriage wall behind them. He had to improvise. The truth—that he had enslaved Stormclaw's mind—would only get him killed on the spot.
"Okay, listen," Devon began, his voice dropping, sounding sincere and slightly weary. "We met in an alley at St. Veren's Gate. You... you were in bad shape. Injured. Starving. You passed out from a blow to the head while escaping."
Devon pointed to his own head. "Temporary amnesia. Trauma. It happens."
Stormclaw furrowed his furry brow. "I... passed out?"
"Yeah," Devon continued smoothly, weaving lies with threads of truth. "I carried you. We tried to run. Then that crazy woman... Reven... she came."
Hearing that name, Stormclaw's body tensed. His eyes flashed with hatred. "Reven..."
"Yes. She attacked us on this train," Devon said, looking at his newly grown hands. "She... she's the one who did this to me just now. She almost killed us both. But you... you went berserk. You saved me."
Stormclaw looked down at his own claws. The memory of the fight was hazy, like a fever dream, but his hatred for Reven was very real. This human's story... it made sense.
Stormclaw looked back at Devon, his gaze softening slightly, though still scrutinizing. "Why?" he asked. His voice was heavy and deep. "Why did you help me? Humans usually only see me as a monster. Or an experiment."
Devon fell silent. He looked down, letting his bangs cover his eyes. This was the crucial moment. He needed a story. Something emotional. Something that could pierce the defenses of this wounded creature.
His mind drifted to the past—not his real past, but a fragment of a story he fabricated, yet filled with genuine emotion.
"Because you reminded me of someone," Devon said quietly. "Back... where I came from... I had a cat."
"A cat?" Stormclaw repeated, feeling slightly offended at being compared to a small pet.
"Yeah. He was white, just like you," Devon smiled faintly, a sad smile. "His name was Shiro. He wasn't just a pet. He was the only friend I had when everyone shunned me because... well, because I was weird."
Devon lifted his face, gazing at the grey night sky. "We were always together. He slept at my feet while I read books. He listened to my complaints when I felt the world was unfair. He... he was the only being who never judged me."
Stormclaw went quiet, his ears dipping slightly. He listened intently.
"But I was weak," Devon's voice trembled slightly—perfect acting, or perhaps there was a shred of genuine regret there for his pathetic former life. "One day... there was an incident. Wild dogs attacked him. And I... I just stood there. Terrified. I failed to protect him. I let the only thing I loved die because I was a coward."
Devon looked deep into Stormclaw's eyes. "When I saw you in that alley... hurt, alone... I thought, maybe this is a second chance. Maybe this time, I won't run. Maybe this time, I can be useful."
He chuckled, a sound that seemed to mock himself.
"I know, sounds ridiculous, right? I'm just an awkward teenager pretending to be a hero. Look at me," Devon spread his arms, displaying his naked body. "I couldn't even save my own pants. I... I'm actually very childish."
Devon looked down again, fiddling with his fingers. "I kill people just because I'm annoyed. I act on impulse. I... I want to be mature, to be strong like the characters in those books. But in the end, I'm just a scared little kid."
Silence enveloped them, filled only by the rhythmic clatter of the train wheels against the tracks.
Stormclaw stared at the human before him. That story... that pain... the resonance felt deep within his chest. He knew what it felt like to be weak. He knew the feeling of helplessness when someone stronger—like Reven—took everything from you.
"Me too..." Stormclaw's voice broke the silence, low and raspy. "I was also... actually just an ordinary street cat."
Devon raised his head.
Stormclaw's eyes were glassy. His defenses were slowly crumbling. "Before she... before that woman caught me... I just wanted to find scraps of food. I just wanted a warm place to sleep."
Stormclaw's massive body began to tremble. Not from the cold, but from painful memories.
"Then that operating table..." His voice cracked. "The blinding lights... the smell of chemicals... the pain when she sliced my skin open... when she pumped those fluids into my blood..."
He hugged himself, claws digging into his upper arms. "She changed me. She forced me to become this. A monster. A weapon. I didn't ask for this power. I just want to go home... but I don't even know where home is anymore."
Clear tears dripped from Stormclaw's amber eyes, wetting the white fur on his cheeks.
Devon felt something in his chest. Not manufactured sympathy, but genuine pity. He shifted his body closer.
"Hey," Devon called out softly.
Stormclaw didn't answer, his shoulders shaking as he suppressed his sobs.
Devon moved closer, ignoring the danger of the static electricity sparking from Stormclaw's body. He raised both hands and gently, very gently, cupped Stormclaw's furry face.
Stormclaw flinched, eyes widening in surprise.
"Don't cry," Devon whispered.
He pulled the large face closer. Stormclaw didn't resist. Devon pressed his forehead against Stormclaw's hard, furry forehead. The tip of the human's nose touched the cat's wet nose.
It was an intimate gesture, transcending species, a primal connection between two broken souls.
"Listen to me," Devon said, looking straight into those wet amber eyes. "You are not a monster. You are Stormclaw. And you are not alone anymore."
The small red wings on Devon's head fluttered softly, sending out a strange wave of warmth.
"We will find her," Devon promised, his voice steady and cold, an unbreakable vow. "We will find Reven. We will hunt her to the ends of the earth. And we will make her regret... regret ever touching you. Regret ever being born."
Stormclaw felt the sincerity. He felt Devon's rage fueling his own. The fear that had haunted him for so long slowly receded, replaced by the embers of a new courage.
"We... face her together?" Stormclaw asked quietly, his voice like a child seeking reassurance.
Devon smiled, this time a genuine, warm smile. He wiped the tears from under Stormclaw's eyes with his thumb. "Yes. Together. So don't be afraid anymore, okay?"
Stormclaw's fur-covered cheeks blushed a faint red. He felt... strange. Warm. He turned his face away slightly, breaking eye contact out of shyness.
"Um... okay," he mumbled.
Devon pulled back slowly, giving Stormclaw space to breathe.
Stormclaw glanced at Devon from the corner of his eye, his tail curling shyly around his legs. "Hey, Devon..."
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
The red wings on Devon's head twitched wildly, betraying his own embarrassment at the sentimental moment that had just passed. "Ah, yeah, you're welcome. Whatever, let's not talk about it anymore. It's getting awkward."
Devon cleared his throat, trying to change the subject. He looked around at the darkness rushing past outside the carriage.
"How about we get out of here now?" Devon suggested. "This train looks like it's approaching the next city. And honestly, this night wind is starting to freeze my ass off. We need to find some clothes."
Devon tried to stand up. "Come on, let's—woah!"
His legs gave way. His new body, freshly regenerated by force, didn't have full strength yet. His knees buckled, and he pitched forward, about to face-plant onto the iron floor.
ZRAK!
A strong, muscular arm caught him before he hit the ground.
Stormclaw moved with lightning reflexes. He supported Devon's body with ease. And without a second thought, he slipped one arm under Devon's back and the other under his knees.
He lifted Devon up.
In a Bridal Carry.
Devon froze. His eyes went wide. His face instantly flushed crimson all the way to his ears.
"Ehhh?!" Devon squeaked, his voice stifled.
He, the (former) Phantom Pharaoh, was being carried like a fainting maiden by a bodybuilder cat. The sight must have been ridiculous.
The red wings on his head flapped at high speed, creating a frantic bzzzt-bzzzt sound.
Stormclaw looked down at Devon in his arms. The cat's face looked innocent, though there was a hint of concern in his eyes.
"Uh... you're still weak," Stormclaw said, his voice a little nervous, realizing their overly intimate position. But he didn't put him down. "Let... let me carry you. As... repayment."
Devon opened his mouth to protest, to demand to be put down, to preserve his remaining dignity. But then he felt Stormclaw's strong heartbeat behind his broad chest. He felt that solid warmth.
And he just sighed in resignation, hiding his red face in Stormclaw's furry chest.
"Suit yourself, Stupid Cat," he mumbled.
Yellow electricity began to spark around Stormclaw's body, illuminating the darkness of the night.
"Hold on," said Stormclaw.
ZRAAAAAM!
With a single explosive burst of power, Stormclaw leaped from the speeding train carriage. They shot into the air, piercing the cold night sky. Two naked figures clinging to each other, one human and one beastkin, flying away from the ruins of their past, toward the lights of a strange city in the distance.