The dust was still settling around the silhouette.
Arbokh's ruined body trembled on the ground, his breath shallow, every coil twitching in agony.
Even blind, he lifted his head slightly toward the newcomer.
"M–my lord…" Arbokh rasped, voice cracking through the blood.
"You… you shouldn't be here."
The silhouette didn't answer at first.
A soft chuckle slipped into the air—calm, warm, almost nostalgic.
The kind of sound that didn't belong on a battlefield soaked in blood.
Then he spoke.
"Lord?" he echoed lightly, tilting his head.
"Come on, Arbokh…"
Another low, familiar laugh.
"…I'm your brother."
Waraabe flinched first.
His jaws snapped shut, eyes widening, pupils trembling.
"That laugh…" he whispered.
"I… I know that laugh…"
Varga turned sharply, breath freezing in his lungs.
His claws trembled.
His heartbeat cracked open.
He stared through the dust—
through the silhouette—
through the impossible.
"Vico?" Varga said.
A single word.
A single name.
"It cannot be," Kongu muttered.
The silhouette shifted—just slightly—and then the voice answered Arbokh.
Soft. Calm. Warm in a way that made the moment even colder.
"As soon as I heard about the mission Father sent you on…"
He stepped forward, the dust bending around him like it feared touching him.
"…I knew I had to come."
A faint smile—felt more than seen—hung in his tone.
"Forgive him," he said quietly.
He exhaled once, almost fondly.
"He gets a bit… drastic sometimes."
The words drifted over the broken arena like a whisper from a ghost—
one that shouldn't exist.
Atrax, the Enforcer leader, stepped forward, aura crackling around him with instinctive hostility.
His voice cut through the silence.
"Who are you?"
The silhouette didn't turn—didn't even shift.
He simply answered, calm as still water.
"My name is Vico."
A pause.
Heavy.
Cold.
Unavoidable.
"And you hurt my family."
His posture straightened, the dust swirling tighter around him as if drawn to his presence.
"That," he said softly—
"…will not be condoned."
The temperature in the arena seemed to drop.
Every hybrid felt the threat beneath his words like a blade placed against the throat.
Vico's eyes narrowed—just slightly—then he turned his head toward the wounded serpent.
"Arbokh," he said softly.
"De-transform."
Arbokh, still trembling, obeyed instantly.
Bones cracked.
Scales folded inward.
The titan-sized body shrank, coiling tighter, grinding against stone as the monstrous mass condensed into a humanoid frame.
But then—
WHOOOM—!!
Vico's own body detonated outward in a burst of raw power.
The ground cratered beneath his feet.
A shockwave ripped through the air as his silhouette expanded—
his spine stretching, bones snapping and reforming, muscles exploding outward with impossible force.
Wings tore free from his back, vast and jagged, each flap sending tremors across the arena.
Claws ripped through the dust like blades.
Scales flooded across his skin—red, molten, draconic—each one gleaming with primal heat.
A colossal shape rose from the cloud of debris, monstrous and towering.
A dragon.
A massive, awe-inspiring dragon.
Gasps erupted across the battlefield.
Vico's roar shattered the silence—deep, ancient, thunderous.
"We're done here," he said, voice now layered with draconic resonance.
"We're leaving."
Before they could take off—
A cracked, shaking voice called out.
"Vico…?"
It was Varga, his voice breaking."Vico— is that really you?"
The dragon turned only his head, not his body.
"What if I am?"
Varga froze.
Vico's tone dropped lower.Sharper.A blade made of ice.
Varga stepped forward, voice cracking as he tried to breathe through the disbelief.
"It's us," he said quietly."Me… Kongu… and Waraabe."
The silence that followed was suffocating.Even the rubble seemed to stop settling.
Vico didn't turn fully.Only his draconic eyes shifted—cold, distant, unrecognizing.
"I know who you are."
A faint, cruel pause.
"You're the ones who left me to die."
Varga's breath left him.
Kongu stiffened.
Waraabe froze mid-step.
A new voice broke the tension—sharp, furious.
Aevor, the Drifter faction leader, stepped forward.
"You think we're just going to let him go?" he growled, glaring at Arbokh.
"After all the damage and chaos he caused?"
Vico finally faced him.
"Don't be naïve," he said softly.
"To think I came alone."
A shiver rolled through the battlefield.
Then—
shadows shifted.
Four silhouettes emerged—
each standing on a different side of the arena.
Each radiating an oppressive, predatory presence.
Kongu clenched his fists.
Rin's blades twitched.
Atrax's aura flared in warning.
Vico's voice cut through all of it.
"You barely took down Arbokh," he said.
"What makes you think you can fight all of us?"
The dragon spread his wings, dust spiraling upward in a violent cyclone.
"But don't worry…" Vico said.
"We'll meet again."
With a violent gust of wind and a thunderous beat of wings—
they took to the sky, rising through the broken colosseum air.
The arena remained frozen below them—
every hybrid, every leader, every survivor staring upward in stunned silence
as Vico disappeared into the clouds.
© 2025 Moku. All rights reserved. INSTINCTBOUND is an original work by Moku. Unauthorized reproduction or distribution is prohibited.