D-Animal
Elara stood up calmly, as if what had just happened were merely another task completed. She stretched slowly, muscles still tight, and cast a sideways glance at Rafael — there was no explicit pride there, only the silent communication of someone saying: it worked.
She sighed, resting one hand on her hip, tilting her head slightly as she observed the man still lying on the ground. Miguel's eyes were glassy, his breathing short and irregular, as if his body were present, but his mind was still trying to understand at what point his life had slipped completely out of his control.
— "So…" — Elara said, her voice far too serene for the scene — "what do we do with him?"
Rafael kept his arms crossed over his chest, leaning casually against the outer wall of the bunker. His gaze was cold, evaluative, the same look of someone who had already decided to kill many times before actually doing it. He gave a slight, dismissive shrug.
— "I don't know yet."
The simple absence of a decision felt worse than an immediate sentence.
Miguel's eyes widened. Fear shattered whatever shred of dignity he still had. He began to move, dragging his body slightly, ignoring the pain, ignoring his own condition.
— "P-please…" — his voice came out broken — "I-I can be useful… I swear… I can help you…"
Rafael didn't move. He merely tilted his head slightly, blue eyes pinning the man with invisible pressure.
— "Useful how?" — he asked, his voice rough, carrying something that didn't need to be spoken aloud.
Elara crouched again, bringing herself level with Miguel's face. The contrast between her gentleness and the brutality of the environment was unsettling.
— "Miguel…" — she said softly — "explain exactly how you would be useful to us. No detours."
Miguel swallowed hard. His heart rate increased, but not enough to trigger new shocks. He had learned.
— "I-I have a D-Animal."
Rafael raised an eyebrow, attentive.
— "Vectura Class…" — Miguel continued, his voice gaining a little more firmness as he noticed the interest — "Hybrid with Concealment."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Elara blinked slowly.
— "Vectura… with Concealment?" — she repeated, as if testing the weight of the idea.
Miguel nodded vigorously.
— "An Austroposeidon."
The name seemed to echo in the air.
— "Huge." — he went on, almost feverish — "Capable of transporting people… entire structures… It can completely conceal itself. Thermal, energy, visual signature… everything."
Rafael slowly uncrossed his arms.
— "A mobile base." — he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.
Elara and Rafael exchanged a look. Nothing needed to be said. They were thinking the same thing.
A bunker, no matter how advanced, was still a fixed point.
Something that could be surrounded. Invaded. Bombarded.
A mobile base… alive… concealed…
Elara nodded slowly.
— "That would be… extremely useful." — she admitted.
But then her expression changed. It wasn't suspicion. It was something deeper.
— "Why did you never reveal this to the FIS?" — she asked.
Miguel let out a weak, humorless laugh.
— "Because I knew what they'd do."
He turned his face to the side, eyes welling.
— "I worked in robotics… advanced symbiotic design… nanorobot integration…" — he explained — "I was recruited by force. When they discovered my research, they gave me two choices."
Rafael felt something tighten in his chest.
— "Which were?" — he asked.
— "Either I worked for them…" — Miguel swallowed — "or my mother… and my pregnant wife… would disappear."
Elara felt her stomach sink.
— "So I lied." — he continued — "I said my Digital Seed failed. That the D-Animal died before hatching. They didn't question it. They never do when they think they've already won."
Rafael stepped forward.
— "If the FIS had your family hostage…" — his voice was low, dangerous — "why would you join us now?"
Miguel closed his eyes.
For a moment, no one spoke.
When he looked at them again, something inside him had died.
— "Because they're dead."
The words came out plain. Without drama. Without force.
— "Executed." — he continued — "When I delayed a project. When they suspected I was hiding something. My mother… my wife… my son never even got to be born."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Not even Fenrir's or Lúpus's motors stirred. Even they seemed to understand.
Elara rose slowly.
For a moment, her gentle expression vanished. There was no explicit anger. No hatred.
There was something worse.
Clarity.
She looked at Rafael.
— "The FIS doesn't create allies." — she said — "They create disposable tools."
Rafael nodded once.
— "And broken tools tend to want revenge." — he added.
Miguel lifted his gaze, a spark of something rekindling.
— "I don't want redemption." — he said — "I just want them to pay."
Elara took a deep breath.
— "Then maybe…" — she said at last — "you still have some use."
But deep down, they all knew.
From that moment on, this was no longer just about survival.
It was about war.
Elara turned toward Lúpus with a simple tilt of her head — no spoken order. None was needed. The intention flowed through the bond like a clear, direct pulse.
Create. Adapt. Restore.
The white wolf released a low, deep growl, unlike any animal sound. It was the sound of ignition.
His body began to heat gradually, external plates adjusting with precise metallic clicks. Lines of soft light ran through the joints as the spiritual-mechanical core accelerated processing. Side hatches opened with alternating clicks — some sharp, some heavy — revealing internal arms that began to move with absolute purpose.
The air filled with the scent of heated metal.
Welding hums echoed rhythmically as small sparks escaped through the openings. Thin smoke began to rise from Lúpus's nostrils and from concealed carburetors beneath the cervical plates, spreading the odor of hot steel mixed with antiseptic.
Fenrir, who had observed in absolute silence until then, disconnected the plug still linking him to the white wolf. Without waiting for further instruction, he pivoted on his paws and vanished into the forest like a dissolving shadow.
Minutes passed.
Miguel watched everything with wide eyes, torn between pain, shock, and something he hadn't felt in a long time: hope — fragile, almost guilty.
The sound of something heavy being dragged announced Fenrir's return.
The black wolf emerged from the shadows carrying an improvised yet carefully selected load: metal plates of various alloys, structural bars, chassis fragments, reinforced springs, an entire container of bolts, nuts, and magnetic connectors. He dropped everything beside Lúpus with a dull thud and stepped back two paces, sitting, alert.
Lúpus answered with a deep purr.
The mechanical arms extended again, now faster, more precise. Pieces were separated, analyzed, fused. The sounds of assembly followed a logical sequence — clack, clack, thum — like a language of their own.
An internal plate rotated, revealing an adaptive mold. Lúpus recalculated Miguel's body weight, center of gravity, bone density, human gait patterns, even future joint wear.
Nothing there was improvised.
It was spiritual medical engineering.
The smoke thickened briefly, then began to dissipate. The hums faded. The welds extinguished with a final hiss.
Slowly, the mechanical arms retracted back into Lúpus's body. The side hatches closed with a soft, definitive sound.
Then, the white wolf's right hip opened.
From within, a prosthetic slid out.
It was elegant and functional at once: a reinforced internal structure, matte external coating, fluid joints, micro-actuators visible only upon close inspection. The upper socket was lined with a flexible, translucent material, pulsing with soft light — designed to mold perfectly to Miguel's stump, distributing pressure and preventing rejection.
There was no aggressive aesthetic.
No excess.
It was a leg made to walk again.
Elara approached, crouching beside Miguel.
— "It won't give back what you lost." — she said with calm honesty — "But it will let you move forward."
Miguel trembled. Not from pain. Not from fear.
From disbelief.
— "I… I have no way to pay for this…" — he murmured.
Elara lifted her gaze to him, her mismatched eyes steady.
— "We're not selling mercy." — she replied — "We're investing."
Lúpus inclined his head slightly, waiting.
Fenrir watched in silence, eyes sharp, like a satisfied guardian.
Rafael, arms crossed, released a low breath through his nose.
— "Welcome to the most dangerous debt of your life." — he commented.
Miguel swallowed hard.
But for the first time since everything had been torn from him,
he did not feel incomplete.