​I sat at the bottom of the reinforced glass jar, my golden legs tucked under me in a mock-meditative pose. ​I looked up at Mimo. She was cleaning a small, serrated dagger with a piece of oily cloth.​"Mimo," I buzzed. "How did you end up like this? An Essence Hunter. You don't exactly strike me as the type who enjoys trapping souls for a living."​She paused. A small, tired smile broke across her face—a smile that didn't reach her eyes. It was the kind of smile you see on a soldier who has seen too many bloody winters.​"In the East Side, it’s either do or die," she said, her voice a soft rasp. "Being a hunter... it gives you a little more priority than a commoner. Commoners are 'Cattle.' Hunters are 'Dogs.' The masters at the top prefer the dogs to be fed just enough so they don't bite the hand that holds the leash. It’s a miserable life, but it’s a life."​"And why me?" I asked, my voice dropping to a serious frequency. "Why gamble your life by kidnapping a high-resonance anomaly?

​The thump-thump was no longer a distant vibration. Every beat of the Hunter’s tracker felt like a drum hitting my shell. ​Mimo’s boots pounded against the rusted metal of the Lower Tunnels. We had dived into the dark, hoping the maze of steam pipes and oily water would save us. But I could see them now. Not just one hunter, but shadows moving along the high catwalks.​"Mimo," I buzzed, my voice tight with panic. "They’re everywhere. I can see the light of their trackers. There’s at least fifty of them."​She didn't answer. Her breath was coming in painful gasps. The two drops of blood I had taken weren't much, but on top of the hunger and the running, it was taking its toll. But she didn't slow down.​"We just... need to reach the... Siphon-Gate," she wheezed. "They won't follow us into the waste-zone. It’s too toxic for their gear."​But we weren't going to make it.​Above us, the Hunter in the dark coat reappeared. He stood still, his silver rod raised. ​"Target locked," a voice

​The library felt like it was breathing. The scent of dried herbs seemed to thicken as the woman’s voice dropped into a tone that made the hair on my tiny legs stand on end. ​"After Witch Shanan was murdered," she began, her eyes reflecting the flickering candle flame like two dying stars, "the land itself lost its soul. It wasn't just a political shift, It was a beginning of nature rejection."​She described a scene that belonged in the deepest circles of hell. The moment Shanan’s ash touched the soil of Allure City, the verdant paradise withered in a single breath. The lush forests that had once been the pride of the kingdom turned into a skeletal graveyard. Trees turned black, their branches twisting into claws as if the wood itself were screaming in agony.​"The rainfall stopped," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Not a single drop of water fell from the heavens for seven years. But the sky wasn't empty. Even under the blazing, indifferent sun, dry thunderstorms would rake t

Midnight took the lead. ​I settled right on the top of his back, burying my tiny golden legs deep into the ink-black fur between his shoulder blades. It felt like sitting on the back of a living shadow. Every time his muscles bunched and released, I was rocked with a powerful rhythm. I felt like riding a panther into battle.​"Come on," I said, leaning forward and trying to remember all the animal movies and anime I had ever watched. "Tell me the truth. Are you a witch's cat? Is that why you can talk? Did you drink a magic potion, or were you cursed by an angry wizard?"​Midnight didn't even break his stride. He approached a massive, rushing underground drain filled with dark water, didn't even pause to measure the distance, and launched himself into the air. We flew over the gap, landing silently on the other side.​"Meow-ha-ha-ha," a deep, rumbling sound vibrated through his chest. It started as a feline meow and turned into a raspy, genuine laugh. "You are a very funny bug. Serio

​I felt my heart twist. This dog wasn't evil. He was just broken. He was so used to being hurt that he expected every fight to end in death.​Midnight stared down at the scarred dog for a long moment. Then, slowly, he pulled his fangs away. He stepped off Buster’s chest and sat back on his haunches.​He stretched out his black paw toward the dog's nose.​"Hi," the cat said softly, with a gentle smile. "I'm Midnight."​Buster opened his eye. He looked at the paw, completely confused. He slowly stood up, shaking the dirt from his fur. He looked around at his gang, then back at Midnight.​"You... you spared me?" Buster asked, his voice shaking. "Why? You won."​"Because winning against a brother doesn't make me stronger," Midnight said. "The real enemy is up there." He pointed a claw toward the ceiling, toward the city above. "The people who gave you that scar. The people who took my family. Why should we fight each other down here while they live perfectly fine?"​Buster stared at Midn