The morning sun cast a bright, hazy glow over the bustling streets of New Eridu. The air was already thick with the familiar, chaotic energy of the metropolis, a blend of exhaust fumes, street food, and the low, ever-present hum of ether-tech machinery.
Inside the sleek, highly sanitized lobby of the Public Security Pet Registry Office, a heavy, awkward silence hung in the air, contrasting sharply with the noise outside. The walls were painted a sterile, clinical white, and the fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead, casting harsh shadows on the polished linoleum floor.
The clerk behind the glass counter, a nervous man with thick spectacles and a poorly fitted uniform, was sweating profusely.
A single drop of perspiration trailed down his temple, catching the harsh light. His eyes kept darting frantically between the immaculate, gold-embossed Victoria Housekeeping Co. credential card resting on his desk and the bizarre, terrifying creature sitting patiently on the floor.
"So..."
The clerk swallowed hard, adjusting his sliding glasses with a trembling index finger.
"You are registering this... specimen... under the Victoria Housekeeping Corporate Guarantor Program?"
"Yes."
Ellen replied flatly, popping a dark cherry lollipop into her mouth. She wore her standard casual clothes—an oversized, slightly faded black hoodie that practically swallowed her small frame, and dark shorts.
With her hands stuffed deep into her pockets and her heavy, muscular black shark tail swaying lazily behind her, she looked every bit the lethargic, uninterested teenager rather than a professional, highly lethal maid.
"And the species is listed as... a 'Rare Blue Sand-Shark'?"
The clerk leaned over the counter, peering down cautiously, clearly doubting the validity of the paperwork but entirely too terrified to formally reject it.
Sitting obediently next to Ellen's beat-up sneakers was Gible. To make it look more like a legitimate exotic pet and less like a dangerous anomaly birthed from the depths of a Hollow, Rina had spent twenty minutes tying a very elegant, oversized red silk ribbon neatly around Gible's neck before they left the estate. Attached to the center of the ribbon was a sturdy, reinforced leather leash, the kind usually reserved for military-grade guard dogs.
Gible looked up at the clerk. Its massive, disproportionate jaw opened slightly, revealing rows of razor-sharp, triangular teeth that looked capable of snapping a solid steel pipe in half. Its round black eyes with stark white pupils unblinkingly locked onto the trembling man. Deep in its cavernous chest, it let out a low, vibrating growl that rattled the glass partition.
Grrrrr...
The clerk flinched violently, pulling his hands back from the counter and pressing his back against the filing cabinets behind him.
"It looks... highly carnivorous."
"It's on a strict diet."
Ellen deadpanned, not even bothering to look at the clerk. She casually lifted her sneaker and lightly tapped the top of Gible's rigid dorsal fin.
"Stop glaring. You're making it weird."
Gible instantly stopped growling. The terrifying, apex-predator demeanor vanished in a fraction of a second. It let out a soft Gyuu, rubbing its light-blue striped protrusions affectionately against Ellen's leg like an oversized, overly attached scaly dog.
The clerk, not wanting to question the absolute, terrifying authority of a Victoria Housekeeping guarantor—especially one who could command such a beast with a mere tap of a shoe—hastily brought down his official stamp on the paperwork. The loud thwack echoed in the quiet lobby.
"A-Alright. Here is the official tag. Please ensure it remains leashed in commercial districts at all times."
"Thanks."
Ellen took the small metal tag, the cold metal contrasting with the warmth of her hand. She clipped it to the red ribbon around Gible's neck, the small bell attached to it jingling softly, and walked toward the automatic glass doors. Finally, this annoying bureaucratic chore was over.
"Alright, let's go back—"
Ellen started, completely underestimating the situation. The moment the automatic glass doors slid open, a wall of city noise and smells crashed into them. In that exact second, her arm was nearly violently yanked out of its shoulder socket.
"Gi! GIBLE!"
The sensory overload of New Eridu hit the newborn creature like a runaway freight train. The blindingly bright sunlight, the cacophony of roaring vehicle engines, the overlapping chatter of hundreds of pedestrians, and a million intoxicating scents—from roasted coffee to spilled engine oil—overwhelmed its highly sensitive, predatory nose.
Gible didn't just walk; it exploded forward with the boundless, frantic energy of a toddler being let loose in a theme park for the very first time. Its short, powerful legs carried its round, dense body at astonishing speeds, the claws on its feet clicking wildly against the concrete pavement.
"Hey! Slow down, you little torpedo!"
Ellen grunted, her eyes widening in shock. She dug her heels hard into the pavement, her soles squeaking in protest as the heavy, muscular land-shark pulled fiercely on the leather leash. She had to physically lean backward, using her entire body weight just to act as an anchor.
For the next two hours, Ellen's simple, beautiful plan to simply go home and sleep in her coffin-bed was completely, utterly derailed.
The city stroll turned into a grueling physical workout. Gible was intensely, aggressively curious about absolutely everything in its path.
First, it was a newspaper stand on the corner of the block. The colorful headlines and the fluttering paper in the wind caught the creature's eye. Gible waddled over at top speed, ignoring Ellen's tugs on the leash, and took a massive, experimental bite out of a freshly stacked pile of morning gazettes.
"Spit it out!"
Ellen scolded, jogging over and dropping to one knee. She had to physically wrestle with the stubborn creature, prying its incredibly strong jaws open with both hands to pull out the soggy, ink-stained clump of paper.
The vendor, an older man with a flat cap, shrieked and dropped his coffee cup, backing away from his own stand.
Ellen sighed, pulling the ruined papers out of Gible's teeth while tossing a handful of high-denomination Dennies onto the counter to compensate the terrified vendor. Gible just chewed on nothing, smacking its lips as if deciding whether newsprint was a viable food source.
They continued down the street, drawing stares from passing civilians. Ellen kept the leash wrapped tightly around her wrist twice, treating the walk like a tactical escort mission.
Twenty minutes later, they entered a more crowded commercial plaza. A street musician was playing an acoustic guitar, drawing a small crowd.
Gible, fascinated by the vibrations of the sound waves, tried to rush the performer, convinced the wooden guitar was a giant, hollow snack. Ellen had to use her Thiren strength to drag the heavy blue gremlin away, leaving behind a very confused and slightly traumatized guitarist.
The walk was exhausting. Every five steps, Gible found something new to investigate. It sniffed a fire hydrant, sneezed violently from the smell of a passing garbage truck, and tried to dig a hole into the solid concrete sidewalk, its single claw scraping loudly against the stone.
Ten minutes later, a small Bangboo waddled past them on the pedestrian path. It carried a small, securely taped cardboard box. The little machine beeped a cheerful, automated greeting as it went about its delivery route.
And Gible's primal instincts flared violently. It saw a small, moving object that looked somewhat like a snack, and its primitive brain instantly assumed it was crunchy.
"Gyuu-gi!"
Gible lunged with terrifying, explosive speed, its massive mouth opening wide to engulf the poor delivery machine.
"No!"
Ellen lunged too, dropping her lollipop entirely. She wrapped her arms securely around Gible's round, blue belly, hauling the heavy creature backward with a sharp grunt. The leather leash pulled taut. Gible's jaws snapped shut with a loud, metallic clack, a mere millimeter away from the Bangboo's outer shell.
The Bangboo let out a digitized, high-pitched scream. Its screen-eyes flashed with warning symbols, and it ran away on its tiny legs, disappearing around the corner in a panic.
"They are not snacks! Stop trying to eat the locals!"
Ellen huffed, letting go of Gible's belly and wiping a layer of sweat from her brow. Her breathing was slightly elevated. This was more tiring than clearing out an entire floor of Ethereals in a Hollow.
Gible simply blinked its large, innocent black eyes at her. It let out a confused, high-pitched little chirp, completely failing to understand why its "mother" was stopping it from engaging in a perfectly natural hunt. It rubbed its head against her knee, asking for affection.
Ellen groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose, but she didn't scold it further.
Their chaotic stroll continued. The sun climbed higher, warming the streets of New Eridu. As they walked past an outdoor café, Ellen momentarily stopped.
She turned her head to look at a digital map terminal mounted on a streetlamp, trying to find the absolute quickest bus route back to the Victoria Housekeeping estate. She just wanted a nap.
At the end of the leash, Gible sat on the pavement, panting softly. A few meters away, near the tables of the café, a strong, sudden autumn gust kicked up a substantial pile of dry, crunchy leaves from the gutter. The wind caught them, making them swirl enticingly in a tight, floating circle.
Gible's round black eyes narrowed, the white pupils focusing entirely on the phenomenon. Primitive logic dictated that anything swirling and moving must be caught.
"Gi!"
It opened its massive maw wide and let out a sharp, eager chirp, trying to 'bite' the swirling leaves from a distance. It strained against the leash, but Ellen had anchored it securely.
No human eye caught it. The people at the café were busy drinking their lattes and chatting. Ellen was busy reading the bus schedule. But for a split second, exclusively witnessed by the silent laws of nature, a dormant spark of dragon energy flared deep within the newborn's chest.
A sudden, completely invisible pulse of raw, immense energy shot forth from its open jaws, traveling through the air in an instant.
It struck the pile of leaves with pinpoint accuracy.
Instantly, the air violently twisted. A localized, fiercely swirling vortex erupted out of nowhere right in the middle of the sidewalk. It didn't cause massive, structural destruction, but it spun with unnatural, focused intensity. It sucked up the dry leaves into a miniature tornado, and then swept across the café's patio, catching a stack of premium white napkins from a nearby table and sending them flying into the sky like dramatic confetti.
The café patrons yelped in surprise, spilling their drinks and raising their arms to shield their faces from the sudden, freak dust devil that had materialized on a perfectly clear day.
Ellen turned around just as the vortex dissipated, the energy fading into the atmosphere. The sudden drop in wind pressure sent a shower of dry, dead leaves and white napkins cascading directly onto her head and shoulders.
She simply stood there, perfectly still, covered in debris, looking like a very annoyed, highly dangerous bush. One leaf was stuck perfectly to her nose.
"Ugh. Stupid autumn wind."
Ellen muttered, brushing the leaf off her face in pure annoyance, completely unaware of the supernatural, draconic phenomenon that had just occurred right behind her back.
Gible, on the other hand, wobbled dangerously on its short legs. It had spun its own head around so fast trying to follow the wind it generated, it put itself into a state of profound, comical dizziness.
It swayed left, then right, and finally fell flat onto its brick-red underbelly with a soft thud, its round black eyes practically spinning in circles.
It looked back at Ellen upside down, let out a dizzy, pathetic Gyuu, and waited for her to come over and dust the dirt off its chin.
And, much to her own deep annoyance, Ellen did. She couldn't help it. She walked over, her heavy tail dragging on the concrete. The lethal apex predator of Victoria Housekeeping, a girl who struck terror into the hearts of thugs and Ethereals alike, was currently kneeling on the sidewalk, pulling a clean tissue from her pocket to wipe dirt off a blue land-shark's nose.
"You are a disaster."
Ellen sighed, throwing the dirty tissue into a nearby trash can. Though the words were harsh, the icy, detached edge in her voice was entirely gone, replaced by a strange, reluctant fondness.
As noon approached, the city grew even more crowded. Gible's frantic energy finally began to wane, its short legs struggling to keep up the pace. Then, its stomach let out a loud, rumbling protest that vibrated so hard Ellen could feel it through the leather leash.
Ellen sighed again, a sound she felt she had made a hundred times today, and led them toward a bustling food street nearby. The air here was thick with the smell of spices, fried batter, and grilled meat.
She stopped at a dessert stand and bought a sweet strawberry crepe loaded with whipped cream for herself. Then, she walked over to a barbecue stall and ordered the absolute largest, thickest skewer of grilled beef the vendor had, handing over the Dennies without a second thought.
They walked away from the crowded stalls and found a quiet, shaded wooden bench near the edge of Sixth Street, away from the heavy foot traffic.
Gible didn't even chew properly. It practically inhaled the massive beef skewer, its powerful jaws easily crushing the thick chunks of meat and even snapping the wooden stick in two before swallowing it all. Once finished, it let out a massive, contented burp that smelled faintly of barbecue sauce.
Finally satisfied from its grand, exhausting adventure, the creature hopped onto the wooden bench. It circled twice to find the perfect comfortable spot, and then heavily rested its massive head directly onto Ellen's lap.
"Gi..."
It purred softly, a deep, rumbling sound. Its round black eyes slowly fluttered shut as the cool autumn breeze washed over them.
Ellen didn't push it away. She didn't complain about the heavy weight on her thighs. She took a slow bite of her sweet strawberry crepe, chewing thoughtfully. Her free hand instinctively dropped down to gently stroke the smooth, cool skin behind Gible's rigid dorsal fin. The creature leaned into her touch, completely trusting, completely safe in her presence.
It was a strange, incredibly unfamiliar feeling for Ellen.
She was a combatant. She was used to destroying things. She was used to wielding her customized weapon, freezing her enemies into solid ice, and cutting them down with terrifying strength. Her life was defined by lethargy punctuated by moments of extreme violence.
Nurturing something? Protecting something so fiercely loyal, clumsy, and completely innocent? It was alien to her. Yet, as she stroked the sleeping creature, it made a strange, warm feeling bloom deep in her chest, melting away the annoyance and exhaustion of the morning.
She looked up, taking in their surroundings while the city moved around them.
Her breath hitched slightly.
Without realizing it, they had wandered and ended up right across the street from the Godfinger Arcade.
She stared at the flickering neon sign, the bright lights reflecting in her crimson eyes. Her gaze drifted down, automatically searching for the window seat. It was Cedric's favorite spot.
He was usually sitting right there at this hour on her days off, his pale, perpetually gloomy face illuminated by the harsh glow of the arcade screen. She could almost see his fingers moving over the plastic buttons with that annoyingly perfect, robotic precision he always possessed.
But the seat was empty today. The glass was dark.
Ellen stopped chewing her crepe. The sweet taste of strawberry and cream suddenly turned to ash in her mouth.
The warm, gentle feeling in her chest was instantly, violently replaced by a heavy, suffocating knot. It felt like a physical weight pressing down on her lungs. She looked down at Gible, who was sleeping peacefully, its chest rising and falling rhythmically under her resting hand.
'Just a weak, gloomy kid who got incredibly unlucky.'
The thought echoed in her mind, cold, bitter, and deeply frustrating.
He was just a normal civilian. A frail arcade nerd who spent all his time staring at screens. He spoke strangely and was surprisingly good at games.
But now, he was lying in a sterile, white hospital bed, his body shattered into pieces, hooked up to machines, unable to even open his eyes or move his fingers.
She just wanted him to recover. She wanted the boring, quiet boy back in that arcade seat so she could casually walk by, return this annoying, heavy blue gremlin to him, and go back to her lethargic, peaceful routine. She hated this feeling of owing someone, of worrying.
She tossed the rest of her crepe into a nearby bin, suddenly losing her appetite completely.
"Come on, you fat shark."
Ellen muttered, her voice losing its casual, relaxed tone, replaced by a quiet, determined heaviness. She gently shook Gible awake.
"We're going home."
…
…
…
[Victoria Housekeeping Co. Estate - Evening]
The grand kitchen of the estate was quiet, bathed in the soft, warm, amber glow of the under-cabinet lights. The rest of the house was silent, wrapped in the tranquility of the evening.
Ellen sat alone at the large, pristine marble island in the center of the kitchen. She was holding a delicate porcelain cup of hot chamomile tea, but she hadn't taken a single sip. It had been sitting there for twenty minutes, and it had gone completely cold.
Her chin rested heavily on the palm of her hand, her crimson eyes staring blankly at the polished marble surface, lost in a maze of her own thoughts.
Her heavy black tail, usually swishing with lazy irritation when she was slightly bothered, hung completely limp toward the floor, unmoving.
"The tea will not steep properly if you simply glare at it, my dear."
Ellen jumped slightly, her shoulders tensing as she was pulled forcefully from her dark thoughts.
Rina floated gracefully into the kitchen, moving with her usual, phantom-like elegance that made no sound against the tiled floor. She wore her immaculate black and white maid dress, not a single wrinkle visible, her ash-green hair styled perfectly around her serene face.
Floating gracefully in the air just over her shoulders were two specialized Bangboos, their unique forms resembling small, hovering spirits rather than the standard utility models.
Unlike the basic models found on the streets of New Eridu, these two lacked the usual stubby limbs, instead possessing flowing, dress-like bodies that allowed them to drift through the air with phantom-like ease.
Drusilla, the blonde one, drifted with a sharp, sophisticated air; she wore a flowing white, sheet-like dress accented by a red collar decorated with white hearts.
A thick, black spiked collar was cinched around her middle, and a single, glowing red eye peered out from beneath her blonde bangs. Her long, rabbit-like ears were marked with distinct red triangles, twitching with every mischievous thought.
Tucked slightly behind Rina's other shoulder was Anastella, her dark brown hair tied into two long, neat pigtail braids. She sported a vibrant red dress-like body with two large white buttons and a delicate, lace-trimmed collar, also cinched by a heavy, spiked black band. Her rabbit ears bore red "X" marks, and her two round red eyes blinked shyly as she peeked out from behind her master.
Rina gracefully set a fresh plate down on the marble counter with a soft clink.
On the plate sat a dozen delicately baked macarons. They were perfectly round, with smooth, flawless shells in pastel shades of pink and green, filled with a rich, pristine layer of cream. They smelled faintly of vanilla and almonds, a testament to culinary perfection.
"I wasn't glaring."
Ellen muttered defensively, looking away from Rina and focusing intensely on a scratch on the marble counter.
"She means you look absolutely miserable!"
Drusilla chimed in instantly, her mechanical yet highly expressive voice sharp and mischievous, easily voicing the exact observation Rina was too polite to say out loud.
"Miserable..."
Anastella echoed softly in a cute, childish trill, nodding her little head.
"Of course not."
Rina smiled serenely, completely ignoring Drusilla's blunt translation as she took a seat on a high stool opposite Ellen. Her sharp, calm eyes, filled with centuries of unspoken wisdom, scanned the young Thiren's face, noting the dark circles and the lack of energy.
"Where is our little blue guest?"
"Asleep in my room."
Ellen sighed heavily, reaching up to rub her temples with two fingers to ward off a headache.
"He played tug-of-war with a solid steel chair for an hour straight and finally passed out on my rug."
Rina poured herself a cup of tea from the ornate teapot, her movements precise and aristocratic, not spilling a single drop.
"You have been remarkably patient with him. It is quite endearing to watch our fierce Ellen play caretaker."
"She's actually shocked you haven't thrown it out the window yet!"
Drusilla announced cheerfully in the air, reading her master's true, hidden thoughts with lethal accuracy.
"Out the window..."
Anastella nodded obediently, covering her mouth to hide a tiny giggle.
"He's just annoying. I'm just doing it because..."
Ellen trailed off, her jaw tightening. She stopped herself, not wanting to admit anything.
Rina took a delicate, measured sip of her tea, letting the silence stretch between them. She placed the cup down gently.
"Because?"
Ellen let out a sudden, highly frustrated breath. She slumped forward, crossing her arms tightly on the counter, burying half her face in her sleeves.
"Because the guy who owns him is an idiot."
Ellen blurted out, the words spilling out rapidly before she could build a wall to stop them.
"He's weak. He has zero combat training. He's so frail a stiff breeze could probably knock him over on a bad day. And then he just... gets swallowed by a Fissure and ends up completely crushed. It pisses me off, Rina. Seeing someone that weak get chewed up like that... it's annoying."
Ellen's fingers dug into the fabric of her black sleeves.
"I just want him to wake up. I want him to get better so I can give his stupid pet back and go back to normal."
Rina listened quietly, her expression unreadable. She didn't interrupt. She simply watched the usually stoic, emotionally detached shark of their housekeeping agency genuinely, deeply frustrated over someone else's physical well-being.
A slow, profoundly knowing smile bloomed on Rina's elegant face. Her eyes crinkled with absolute, undeniable delight.
"Oh my."
Rina murmured softly, placing her teacup down with a gentle clink.
"Has our little Ellen finally experienced her first love?"
The grand kitchen fell dead silent. You could hear a pin drop.
Ellen's brain completely, utterly short-circuited.
For three full seconds, she just stared at Rina, her crimson eyes wide in absolute horror and disbelief. Then, the blood rushed to her face with the force of a high-speed bullet train, turning her cheeks, her ears, and even her neck a brilliant, violent shade of tomato red.
Her massive black shark tail, previously limp and lifeless, spiked rigidly into the air like a solid steel board.
"W-What?!"
Ellen sputtered, her voice cracking entirely, losing all of its cool composure. She slammed both her hands flat on the marble counter, pushing herself up so fast her stool nearly tipped backward.
"No! Absolutely not! Are you crazy?!"
"There is no need to be shy, dear."
Rina chuckled, a soft, melodic sound, raising a graceful hand to hide her incredibly amused smile.
"Oh, she's definitely in love! Look at her tail, it's stiff as a board!"
Drusilla teased mercilessly, floating closer to inspect Ellen's absolute panic, pointing directly at the rigid shark appendage.
"Rina thinks it's the cutest thing she's seen all year! Aww, our little shark is growing up!"
"Growing up..."
Anastella chimed in, giggling quietly behind her small hands, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
"I am not shy! And I am not in love! I am denying it because it's completely false!"
Ellen aggressively defended herself, her usual lethargy completely evaporating into pure, unfiltered panic. She waved her arms frantically.
"He's just my Kouhai! He's gloomy, he's boring, he plays way too much arcade, and he barely even talks! Why would I—I don't—It's just—"
Ellen was flailing, her words tangling together as she furiously tried to justify her frustration and hide her burning embarrassment.
"I just hate seeing weak people get hurt! That's it! It's annoying! It goes against my principles!"
"Uh huh. Of course."
Rina nodded along smoothly, her tone dripping with such heavy, affectionate sarcasm that it could fill a bucket.
"You are simply irritated from a purely professional standpoint. Perfectly understandable."
"She doesn't believe a single word you just said!"
Drusilla declared bluntly, flying up to eye level with Ellen and crossing her arms.
"Not a single word!"
Anastella echoed supportively from Rina's shoulder.
"Exactly! I mean, no! Ugh!"
Ellen huffed, crossing her arms so tightly across her chest it actually hurt. She refused to meet Rina's gaze, aggressively staring at the expensive wallpaper on the kitchen wall instead.
"Love? Gross. I just owe him because he survived. If he died, it would have ruined my track record as a guarantor. That's all. End of story."
Rina stood up, gracefully smoothing out her long black-and-white dress. She walked slowly around the marble island, her heels clicking softly, stopping beside the flustered Thiren girl. She gently placed a warm, comforting hand on Ellen's tense shoulder.
"Ellen."
Rina said, her voice shifting entirely from teasing to a warm, genuine, maternal gentleness.
"Sometimes, the most fragile things hold the heaviest weight in our hearts. It is perfectly okay to care about someone, my dear. It makes us stronger, not weaker."
"I don't care about him! I just told you!"
Ellen snapped back immediately, her sharp shark teeth bared defensively, completely refusing to yield an inch to this ridiculous, embarrassing narrative.
"I just want the kid to wake up so I can go back to sleeping on my days off without interruptions!"
Rina didn't argue. She just patted Ellen's tense shoulder gently, a knowing look in her eyes.
"Don't push your feelings away too hard, my dear. Let them flutter."
"Nothing is fluttering! I'm going to bed!"
Ellen shot out from behind the stool. She grabbed her cold tea, dumped it unceremoniously into the sink with a splash, and stomped out of the kitchen as fast as her legs could carry her. Her heavy tail swished furiously from side to side to mask her burning face as she fled the room.
As Rina watched the Thiren girl flee down the grand, dimly lit hallway, her serene smile lingered, turning into something softer.
Drusilla floated up beside Rina's face, crossing her miniature arms and looking down the hall.
"You are absolutely dying to know who this kid is, aren't you?"
Drusilla stated bluntly, easily reading the intense, protective curiosity bubbling beneath Rina's calm, composed exterior.
"Dying to know..."
Anastella nodded shyly from the other side, her body clicking softly.
Rina didn't deny it.
'Just who is this mysterious boy that finally managed to make our little Ellen's heart flutter?'
Rina thought to herself, her eyes crinkling with playful, yet deeply protective intrigue.
'What kind of person are you, Cedric? I must admit... I am incredibly curious to meet you.'