D-Animal
The world was burning.
It wasn't a metaphor—the air scorched Elara Pack's lungs as she inhaled, carrying dust, ash, and the bitter taste of oxidized metal. Every breath came short and painful, as if her own body were charging her for still standing.
She had her back against a shattered wall, cracked concrete pressing into her shoulder blades, the rough surface scraping sweaty skin beneath her tactical vest. Her entire body ached, but the sharpest pain came from her right thigh.
A bleeding hole.
The flesh was torn open, ragged, the result of shrapnel from a nearby explosion. Blood flowed hot, mixing with dark dust that clung to her skin and clothes, forming nearly black stains.
Lúpus knelt beside her.
The white wolf emanated a soft, almost milky glow that pulsed in steady waves. Spiritual circuits coursed through the metallic body as he pressed his paw against the wound, sealing tissue, stabilizing vessels, slowing the bleeding. It wasn't a full heal—not there, not under that fire—but it was enough to keep her alive.
"Just a little more," Elara muttered through clenched teeth, holding back the pain. "Just… a little more."
Lúpus answered with a low, firm sound. Present.
Above, Visio cut through the gray sky.
The owl circled wide and silent, violet eyes sweeping every angle, every broken rooftop, every collapsed street. Information flowed straight into Elara's mind—mental maps layered over reality, possible routes, active threats.
And in the shadows, where the light didn't reach…
Fenrir did not exist.
Or at least, that's what the world believed.
The black wolf was invisible, perfect concealment, energy reduced to the absolute minimum. He moved low to the ground, slipping around debris, positioning himself with predatory patience. Waiting for the right moment. Always waiting.
Elara kept her weapon tight against her chest.
An Accuracy International AWM/L115A3—heavy, cold, reliable. The barrel was hot, recent-use marks still visible. She knew every centimeter of that rifle as she knew her own body. It was an extension of herself.
The earpiece crackled.
Static.
Nothing else.
"…Command center, this is Elara Pack," she tried again, her voice hoarse. "Code Gray. Repeating, Code Gray. Requesting immediate support."
Only static answered.
She closed her eyes for a second, reining in frustration before it turned into despair.
"Shit…" she whispered.
Then the ground shook.
Not like before—not scattered explosions—this had rhythm.
Footsteps.
Each impact made abandoned cars jump, rubble shift. Elara lifted her gaze, bracing herself better against the wall, ignoring the protest of her wounded leg.
It was there.
The Indomita Deletio Rhinoceros.
The creature was a colossus of destruction. Its body—a mass of thick, irregular plates—looked like it had been torn from an infernal forge. The frontal horn was enormous, reinforced, slowly spinning like a living drill, ripping chunks of concrete as it scraped the ground.
On its flanks, two heavy cannons adjusted, targeting systems activating with a cruel red glow.
It charged an overturned car.
The impact was obscene.
The vehicle was crushed like an empty can, steel folding with a metallic scream, glass exploding into lethal rain.
Elara felt her stomach drop.
"Disaster Class…" she murmured. "Of course it had to be."
The rhinoceros didn't stop.
It fired.
One cannon roared, launching a missile that cut through the air with a sharp howl before slamming into a nearby building. The explosion tore the entire façade open, hurling debris in all directions.
Among it… a body fell.
Elara saw it.
Her heart seized for a second.
"No… no, no—"
The man hit the ground hard amid the rubble, rolling until he stopped a few meters ahead. A metal beam pierced his left shoulder, pinning him partially to the ground. Blood poured fast and dark, stark against the pale dust.
Malik Leonhart.
General of the D-Animal Armed Forces.
Rank S.
Even fallen, even wounded, his presence was unmistakable. Tall, massive, his muscular body now far too still. Dark-brown hair matted with soot, his face marked by shallow cuts. One green eye stared blankly for a moment; the other—blue—squeezed shut in pain.
A knot formed in Elara's chest.
"Damn it… Malik."
She tried to move.
Her leg protested instantly, sharp pain flaring like fire. Lúpus pressed harder, emitting a stabilizing pulse.
"I know," she murmured to the wolf. "But I need to get to him."
Visio adjusted its flight, vision sharpening.
The rhinoceros stood between her and Malik.
And there was no firing pattern.
It shot on pure destructive instinct.
Elara rested her forehead against the wall for a second, breathing deep, forcing her body to focus.
Think. Plan. Survive.
She raised the rifle carefully, bracing it on her good knee. The weight was familiar, grounding. She adjusted the scope, calculating distance, nonexistent wind between buildings, target instability.
The problem wasn't hitting.
She could hit it.
The problem was that it wouldn't matter.
The rhinoceros's frontal armor was too thick. A direct shot wouldn't bring it down—only enrage it.
"Fenrir," she whispered through the bond, without moving her lips.
Position?
The answer came as sensation, not words.
Right. Thirty meters. Partial blind angle.
Good.
She looked skyward in her mind, reaching for Visio.
Alternate routes?
Collapsed sublevels. Unstable side streets. Best path… straight through.
She closed her eyes for a heartbeat, accepting the risk.
"Lúpus," she murmured. "When I move… keep this sealed."
The white wolf emitted a firm sound, almost a vow.
Elara pushed off the wall.
The first step was hell.
The second, worse.
But she ran.
Each footfall detonated pain, but she ignored it. The world narrowed to essentials—Malik, the rhinoceros, time bleeding away too fast.
The rhinoceros turned its head.
Sensors locked on.
A cannon began to rotate toward her.
"Now," Elara murmured.
Fenrir attacked.
Out of nowhere, the air seemed to tear. The black wolf erupted from invisibility straight into the rhinoceros's flank, claws sinking into side plates, searching joints, fissures, any weak point.
Metal screamed.
The rhinoceros roared—a deep, distorted sound—and spun violently, trying to crush Fenrir against the rubble. The impact cracked the ground, but Fenrir was already gone.
He reappeared behind it, teeth sinking into exposed cables, ripping them free with brutal force before vanishing again.
The cannon system failed for one second.
One second was all Elara needed.
She slid to Malik's side, dropping to her knees.
"Hey," she said, gently holding his face. "Look at me."
The green eye focused on her.
The blue one opened a moment later.
"…Elara?" Malik murmured, a crooked smile appearing despite the pain. "Thought… you were dead."
"Then you'll have to hang on a bit longer," she replied, forcing steadiness into her voice.
She quickly assessed the metal beam through his shoulder.
"Don't pull it," Malik said, anticipating. "It's holding… something."
"I know," she replied. "I'm not taking it out here."
Another blast erupted nearby, shockwave dumping dust over them.
"Malik," she said fast. "Can you activate any of yours?"
He inhaled sharply, jaw clenched.
"Murus… pinned under rubble," he answered with effort. "Furor… flying out of range."
The weight of it crushed her chest.
So it's on me.
She glanced over her shoulder.
The rhinoceros had fully turned on Fenrir now, charging in blind fury. The black wolf dodged by centimeters—each mistake potentially fatal.
Visio dipped lower, vision recalibrating.
Left cannon overheating.
Elara smiled faintly—a cold smile.
"Thank you," she murmured.
She repositioned, braced the rifle, ignored the pain.
Inhaled.
And fired.
The shot wasn't at the body.
It was at the cannon.
The bullet pierced the heat-weakened joint, striking the unstable core. The cannon detonated in a violent lateral blast, ripping off plates and throwing the rhinoceros sideways with a maddened roar.
It didn't fall.
But it staggered.
The second cannon began to rotate.
Elara had no time.
She dropped the rifle and grabbed Malik by the shoulders with brutal care.
"This will hurt," she warned.
"Already does," he replied, a rough laugh escaping.
She pulled.
The metal tore free with a horrific sound, blood surging as Malik screamed. Elara immediately pressed the wound, slapping on an emergency sealant from her belt.
"Breathe," she ordered. "Breathe with me."
He obeyed—gasping, sweating, but conscious.
The ground shook again.
The rhinoceros was recovering.
Fenrir reappeared, marked and scarred, but still whole.
Lúpus advanced, spiritual light expanding to partially envelop Malik, stabilizing him.
Elara grabbed the rifle again.
She knew.
This wasn't over.
But as long as Malik Leonhart still breathed…
As long as his D-Animals still existed…
As long as Elara Pack still stood…
The future wouldn't be decided by destruction alone.
She adjusted the scope once more, her mismatched eyes hard, focused.
And faced the monster.
Head-on.
---
Malik's body was heavy.
Not just in mass—though that alone made Elara's spine protest—but in meaning. A Rank S general wounded, bleeding, leaning on her as if the entire world tilted toward that fragile point.
Elara clenched her teeth.
Her injured leg trembled with every step, muscle threatening to give out. Blood still seeped slowly down her thigh, warm and sticky, clinging to the tactical fabric. Each movement made the wound throb, as if it had its own heartbeat, out of sync.
But she didn't stop.
"Visio," she said mentally, her voice firm despite crushing fatigue.
Find Malik's D-Animals. Now.
The owl responded instantly, spreading metallic wings and gaining altitude. The world split into layers again inside Elara's mind—physical reality and the translucent shared-vision panel.
She saw through Visio's eyes as she limped, dragging Malik along.
Destroyed streets. Cars stacked like broken toys. Facades gnawed by time and violence. Old evacuation signs still painted on walls, half-faded—reminders of a past that hadn't worked.
Malik breathed heavily.
Every inhale seemed to tear at his chest.
"You… still run like this?" he murmured, trying to lighten the tension with weak humor.
"You're heavier than you look," Elara replied without turning her head. "Shut up."
He let out a sound that might've been a laugh… or a groan.
The ground trembled in the distance.
Even far away, the Indomita Deletio Rhinoceros reminded the world it existed. Distant explosions lit the gray sky irregularly, like lightning without a storm.
Elara didn't look back.
If she did, she might stop.
And stopping wasn't an option.
Visio sliced through the city above, violet eyes expanding, tracking familiar signals—bond frequencies, energy signatures.
There.
Further north.
Trapped beneath rubble.
Elara felt recognition before visual confirmation.
They're alive, she thought, a strange, quiet relief spreading through her chest.
"Malik," she said, adjusting his arm more securely over her shoulders. "I found your D-Animals."
The general swallowed hard.
"…Murus?" he asked softly.
And Furor, she thought—but said aloud, "Both of them."
Something shifted in his weight.
Not physically—but emotionally.
As if, for a moment, he wasn't quite so close to breaking.
Visio returned in a controlled dive, appearing ahead of them and perching on a bent streetlight. The owl tilted its head, eyes shining, then turned its body and beat its wings in a specific direction.
A silent guide.
"Alright," Elara murmured. "This way."
She followed.
Every step was a negotiation with pain. The world felt narrower, sounds muffled, as if submerged. Sweat streamed down her face, mixing with dust, stinging her eyes.
Finally, they reached it.
Beneath the rubble of a collapsed commercial building, Murus lay partially buried, thick plates covered in broken concrete. Even motionless, the lion radiated presence—a silent bastion still trying to protect what remained of his master.
Above, on a twisted pole, Furor waited.
The Fury-class eagle had one wing partially damaged, metallic feathers bent, but its eyes burned with wild intensity upon recognizing Malik.
A metallic cry echoed.
Not aggression.
Recognition.
"Murus… Furor…" Malik whispered, his voice breaking.
Elara eased his weight down carefully, leaning him against a still-standing wall. He slid into a seated position, breathing hard but conscious.
"You regrouped," she said, almost to herself. "Good."
Visio perched on her shoulder for a moment, closing the surveillance loop.
Elara inhaled deeply.
Then raised her wrist.
The D-Armilla glowed faintly but steadily.
"Fenrir," she murmured, her voice heavy with exhaustion and command. "Deactivate. Return."
The air seemed to shift wrong for a second.
Then the black wolf reappeared briefly—visible for the first time since the fight began. His body was scarred, plates scratched, but green eyes still burned with ferocity.
He looked at Elara.
Then at Malik.
And dissolved into light, drawn back into the D-Armilla.
"Lúpus," she continued, her hand still trembling. "Return."
The white wolf ceased emitting energy, spiritual light fading until it vanished. Before being recalled, he touched his metallic muzzle to Elara's injured leg, as if leaving a final anchor behind.
Then—silence.
Only the distant sounds of destruction.
"You…" Malik began, his voice rough. "You saved my life."
Elara didn't answer immediately.
She surveyed the surroundings.
The half-destroyed house ahead had charred walls, empty windows like hollow sockets, doors hanging crooked. A place forgotten by the world, swallowed by abandonment that had spread after years of Indomita Deletio attacks and Ferus D-Animals.
Ghost cities.
Permanent scars.
"No," she said at last, leaning against the wall and drawing a breath. "I just refused to let you die today."
She helped Malik to his feet again, more carefully now, guiding him into the building. Murus strained free of the rubble and positioned himself at the entrance like a living shield. Furor dropped inside through a hole in the roof, perching on an exposed beam, watchful.
The interior smelled of old dust, mold, and oxidized metal.
But it was safe.
For now.
Elara closed her eyes for a second as they crossed the threshold.
Her body finally allowed exhaustion to surface.
But she stayed standing.
Rebellious to the end.