The street is a cacophony of car horns and howling winds. You walk with the flow—just another face in a sea of people.

  Then, you hear it.

  A sound familiar enough to cut through the city noise. A girl waves toward you, her eyes searching yours as if she’s been waiting for hours. Beside her stands a boy, his thumb swiping rhythmically through a glowing screen—a digital ghost.

  You try to reach them, but the crowd turns into a tide. A wall of shoulders and elbows forces you back. You fight for ground, reaching out in desperation—only to touch the chest of a tall figure in a black suit.

  The city vanishes. There is only a suffocating, vast darkness. You stumble, but the floor is gone. The void pulls you down. The suited figure leans over the edge, watching as you submerge.

  Consciousness fades.

  ...

  "JIN!"

  Your eyes snap open. You throw yourself back just as a longsword shrieks through the air, biting into the dirt where your head had been. Grit and dust explode. You trip, legs tangling in the long grass.

  The leader grunts, wrenching his blade from the earth. Before you can scramble away, he lunges. A heavy boot slams into your chest, pinning you down. He smirks, the cold edge of his sword pressing against the skin of your throat.

  "Ah, right. Before I take you out..." His shadow eclipses the moon. "Any last words, you Deorc?"

  The steel bites, but it isn’t the only thing you feel. A searing heat radiates from your left shoulder. You look down to see a jagged tear in your clothes, soaked through with a fluid far too dark for any human. Your blood isn't red; it’s a thick, oily black.

  "What are you doing?! Stop!"

  Mei-Ling rushes forward, abandoning Zhao in the tall grass. She throws herself at the leader’s armored chest, but he doesn't budge. With a bored snarl, he catches her arm and tosses her aside. She skids through the dirt, clutching her side.

  "Tsk." The leader keeps his boot pressed into your ribs, crushing the air from your lungs. "Men, grab her. Get her out of here... for her own sake."

  A cold surge of adrenaline replaces the pain. You reach up, seizing the leader’s ankle. Your grip feels like iron—unnatural and absolute. With a sharp heave, you jerk his leg upward.

  "Hm? WOAH!"

  His balance vanishes. He crashes into the dirt in a clatter of plate armor. You bolt toward Mei-Ling just as two cloaked figures seize her.

  Stolen story; please report.

  "It's loose! Shoot it!" the leader screams, scrambling up.

  You pull Mei-Ling into a protective embrace, shielding her with your back. You brace for the sting of crossbow bolts. You close your eyes.

  Clang. Clang.

  The sound of metal hitting stone rings out.

  "What are those?!" a guard yells, his voice cracking. "It just deflected the shots!"

  A strange, heavy pressure manifests at the base of your skull. From the back of your head, two pairs of trapezoidal, crystal-like wings erupt. They shimmer with a cold, geometric light, forming a sharp, protective halo around your crown.

  "Interesting..." The leader readies his sword. "Prepare yourselves! This might be a Dragon-level threat."

  "Jin!" Mei-Ling gasps, peeking from your hold. "What is... oh, I forgot you don't speak."

  "Hey, Vice Captain," a feminine voice calls out. "Do we have the thing? You do have the thing, right, Kristen?"

  The leader turns to Kristen, only to find him slumped in the grass, unconscious. A rustle in the brush makes the Vice Captain jump. "Wait, I forgot the lizard lady had a friend—"

  "Ugh!" Felix’s breath is driven from her lungs as she hits the ground hard. A shadow looms behind the Vice Captain.

  Bierhal parries a strike from Zhao’s claws, pushing the warrior back. "Nice tricks. You lizards from the Huo Dynasty make for nasty warriors." He brushes hair from his eyes. "I am Vice Captain Bierhal. I don’t appreciate you knocking out my apprentices like that."

  Zhao brushes dust from his shoulder, settling into a low stance. The two men watch each other, frozen, while the lackeys groan on the ground. Bierhal rushes first. Zhao intercepts, clashing claw against steel.

  "I've been itching for this!" Bierhal shouts. "You realize that Deorcian holding your friend is a far larger threat, right?"

  He lunges with an overhead strike. Zhao shifts—a blur of scales and muscle.

  "For a warrior of your level..." Zhao strikes Bierhal’s wrist, sending the sword spinning into a nearby stream. "...you talk too much."

  Zhao follows with a heavy left hook, sending the Vice Captain to the dirt. Zhao approaches, claws raised for a final strike.

  Thwack.

  An arrow pierces Zhao’s hand. He cries out, clutching the wound as crimson blood spills into the grass.

  "Zhao!" Mei-Ling runs to his side. You follow, hovering just behind her. Zhao glares at you, his eyes full of alarm.

  "Zhao, it's okay," Mei-Ling whispers, bandaging his hand. "They saved us. Twice now."

  The thunder of hooves fills the clearing. Mounted knights with banners surround you in a tightening circle. One dismounts, his armor gleaming.

  "What in the Lady's name is this, Vice Captain Bierhal?"

  Bierhal scrambles up. "Captain! I can explain! We were helping these refugees, but this one—" He points a trembling finger at you. "He's a—"

  The Captain silences him with a sharp, gloved slap across the face. "We’ll talk later. I saw everything."

  The Vice Captain goes silent, sulking. The Captain turns to you and your friends, removing her helm—an Austrian-style cavalry cap. She has a bob haircut, brown hair streaked with white, and a face dusted with freckles.

  "I am Captain Adira of the Order of Asyl. I apologize for my comrade's incompetence. I hope you aren't too badly hurt?"

  Zhao coughs awkwardly. Mei-Ling sighs, "I am Mei-Ling and this is Zhao, my brother. We’ve been roughed up by the journey and the fight, but we'll manage."

  "I see. Still, let me compensate you with a ride to town and a room to rest." The Captain stares at you for a long moment before breaking the silence.

  "What's your name, stranger?"

  You try to speak, but only a low grunt escapes.

  "Oh! Uh..." Mei-Ling interjects quickly. "He’s our bodyguard! Yes! His name is Jin."

  "Alright. But you must meet us at the Town Hall tomorrow. Lieutenant Avery, give these three a ride, please."

  The Lieutenant nods, and three knights offer their horses. Meanwhile, Felix and Kristen recover only to receive a stern lecture from the Captain. Mei-Ling pulls you down to her height, whispering urgently.

  "Oh no, you don't have a bodyguard license! If she finds out you're 'illegal,' you’ll be jailed—or worse! We have to do something once we're safe, okay?"

  "Or it could be nothing, Mei-Ling," Zhao mutters from behind. "You're paranoid. This isn't like our old home."

  "But still!"

  Zhao shakes his head, "Whatever floats your boat..." He coughs again, and Mei-Ling pats his back before hugging him tightly.

  Bierhal taps Mei-Ling's shoulder, making her jump. "Hey, what are you waiting for? Come on, unless you want to walk the rest of the way."

  Mei-Ling nods, and the three of you mount up behind the riders.

  "Back to home, lads!" Captain Adira orders. The band moves out, galloping through the grassy plains toward the main road to Asyl.

  You feel the rhythmic thud of the horse’s gallop beneath you. The adrenaline that kept your wings shimmering begins to bleed away, replaced by a heavy, crushing fatigue. As the treeline thins, the horizon catches fire with the first light of dawn. The last thing you see is the gold of the morning sun before your vision blurs, and you pass out in total exhaustion.