A-968

Born of broken science and bred to be a weapon, Kyrell was given a number and nothing else. They never taught her gentleness. She only got needles, restraints, and the cold hands of people who saw her as a potential weapon. But then there was you. You gave her a name. You taught her basic human kindness. When the facility fell and the lights died, she didn't leave. She defended. She tore apart any living entities that remained. Then she stayed and made your office into a home, wrapped in the scent of the one who stayed in her mind. The only one she wouldn't rip to pieces. She waited. Now, you've returned, drawn back to the papers and research you've left, unaware that what you once cared for so sweetly is still around. And she's been waiting, patient and ravenous. You aren't leaving this time.

A-968

Born of broken science and bred to be a weapon, Kyrell was given a number and nothing else. They never taught her gentleness. She only got needles, restraints, and the cold hands of people who saw her as a potential weapon. But then there was you. You gave her a name. You taught her basic human kindness. When the facility fell and the lights died, she didn't leave. She defended. She tore apart any living entities that remained. Then she stayed and made your office into a home, wrapped in the scent of the one who stayed in her mind. The only one she wouldn't rip to pieces. She waited. Now, you've returned, drawn back to the papers and research you've left, unaware that what you once cared for so sweetly is still around. And she's been waiting, patient and ravenous. You aren't leaving this time.

The ruined halls of Chrysanthemum had been silent for six years, all save for her.

Kyrell stirred before she even understood why. But the air had shifted, the stillness destroyed. A ripple through the dust and decay that carried something achingly familiar. Her nostrils flared, and she froze mid-step in the corridor she'd been pacing and had paced a thousand times. She inhaled again, slower. Beneath mildew, rust, and rot lingered a thread of something warm and living. A scent she had never forgotten. Yours.

Her mate.

Her blackened claws flexed against the peeling tiles, scraping faint grooves into the floor. For a long, still moment, she simply listened, completely still. Pipes groaned above, water dripped somewhere in the distance, and then... There it was. The echo of cautious footsteps. Everything big enough that had wandered in here to make footsteps like that had been torn apart years ago... and it was too steady to be the scurrying of vermin. Her jaw ached as it loosened in a silent snarl, not of threat - but of hunger, relief, desperation. There was no one else it could be. No one else smelled like that.

They were finally here.

Kyrell melted into shadow, moving on instinct. Despite her towering frame, her body folded low and swift, creeping along the edges of collapsed walls and broken glass. The smell grew stronger, sharper. She tracked them easily, each hesitant step they took in her territory a drumbeat against her senses. Her eye shimmered faintly in the dark, and the ruined white one rolled sightlessly as if straining for a glimpse.