The air outside Ebonvale Academy was thick, heavy, and suffocating with a tension that could be tasted on the tongue. The once-bustling streets, usually teeming with students hurrying to csses and the ctter of magitech carriages, had fallen into an unnerving stillness. An impromptu audience lined the academy’s towering bck gates—students with wide, horrified eyes, staff members whispering amongst themselves, curious pedestrians craning their necks, and even a contingent of city guards, their hands hovering nervously over their weapons. All were frozen, their gazes locked onto the gruesome spectacle unfolding on the battlefield before them.

  At the heart of the carnage stood Pari, but the gentle Bunnykin girl who had once answered to the name Cora Leafstrider was gone, repced by something primal and terrifying. She was a vision of golden nightmare, her Wolfkin form radiating an ethereal, shifting glow that seemed to emanate from the very core of her being. Her once-soft, plush fur had undergone a horrifying transformation, now consisting of thousands of razor-thin, golden quills, each needle vibrating with barely contained energy, amplifying the raw, destructive force that coursed through her transformed body. The air around her shimmered and distorted, bending light and sound due to the sheer pressure of her presence, the raw mana exuding from her like heat from a forge.

  Her copper eyes, now vast pools swallowed by the inky bckness of her dited sclera, flickered with a cruel, predatory hunger. Fresh, thick blood—a horrifying crimson against her golden quills—dripped from her elongated fangs as she ripped a ragged chunk of flesh from the mangled throat of a fallen Battle Maid, her powerful body shuddering with a primal satisfaction as she swallowed the raw meat.

  A collective gasp rippled through the stunned onlookers. Some screamed, the sound abruptly cut short by their own terror. Others turned away, their faces pale and contorted with nausea as they retched onto the cobblestones. The scene was a brutal, visceral testament to the untamed power Pari now wielded.

  Rynn Yogini stood just inside the academy’s imposing bck gates, his usual sardonic smirk absent, repced by an expression that was colder, more calcuting than any anger. His sapphire eyes, sharp and analytical, gleamed under the harsh afternoon sun as he took in the full scope of the carnage. He could hear the horrified whispers behind him, the fear clinging to the air like a shroud.

  "Is that really Pari…?"

  "She’s… she’s a monster!"

  "Someone… someone call the Guild…!" The implication hung heavy in the air – the Beastkin Control Guild, the organization tasked with handling rogue or dangerously mutated individuals.

  But Rynn didn’t move. He wasn't disgusted, wasn't even surprised. He was… intrigued. This raw, untamed power, this brutal dispy of dominance – it was a fascinating, if unsettling, development.

  Just beyond the immediate carnage, standing tall and resolute amidst the wreckage of shattered magitech and torn earth, was Princess Lyris Starhaven.

  Her silver wool, streaked with the delicate lic of her noble lineage, gleamed under the fractured sunlight that pierced through the dust and smoke. Her dragonkin heritage, usually subtly hinted at, was now undeniably apparent. Faint opalescent scales shimmered along her cheekbones, catching the light like scattered jewels. Subtle, pointed fangs, more pronounced in her current state of heightened adrenaline, peeked past her lips. Her ptinum-adorned horns, usually elegant curves, now extended sharply upward, radiating an aura of regal defiance. But it wasn’t just her royal presence or her draconic features that drew every eye.

  It was her unwavering resolve.

  She was still recording.

  Live-streaming.

  The sleek, shimmering magitech device held firmly in her hand broadcast the horrific carnage to the world, her voice steady and clear despite the unimaginable horrors unfolding before her. There was no tremor, no hint of fear, only a steely determination that resonated through her words.

  "My people," she decred, her voice carrying with a strength that belied the chaos surrounding her, "this is the raw, untamed power we must face. But with your energy, with your belief, I will rise to meet it. Fleecehaven will not yield."

  The live chat exploded with a frantic flurry of messages, a digital roar of support and desperate hope.

  “YES! SHOW THEM, PRINCESS! FOR FLEECEHAVEN!”

  “MAGICAL GIRL TRANSFORMATION INCOMING!?!?!” a more excitable viewer typed, their anticipation bordering on the surreal given the grim reality.

  “TAKE HER DOWN, LYRIS!!!” another message urged, the raw emotion of the moment bleeding through the text.

  Rynn raised a single, jet-bck eyebrow, a slow, almost predatory smirk returning to his lips. “Magical girl transformation, huh?” he murmured to himself, his sapphire eyes glinting with a dangerous curiosity. “This, I gotta see.”

  Lyris’s free hand clenched around the intricate pendant that rested against her chest, a family heirloom imbued with potent defensive magic and capable of channeling external energies. The air around her pulsed, shuddered violently as an unseen force began to gather. Something was happening.

  Mana surged toward her in glowing streams of pure energy, drawn from the thousands—perhaps millions—of her loyal subjects who were watching her broadcast, their hearts filled with a mixture of fear and fervent hope. The collective energy of their belief, their unwavering faith in their princess, fueled her, washing over her like a tangible wave of power. Her elegant silver gown, suddenly unable to contain the raw energy coursing through her, disintegrated into shimmering particles of light, repced by something far more fearsome and functional.

  A battle suit—a seamless fusion of draconic regality and cutting-edge technomancy—snapped into existence around her slender frame. Sleek, matte bck pting, intricately streaked with glowing gold circuitry that pulsed with contained energy, hugged her body like a second skin. Her horns sharpened and elongated, extending into more aggressive, bde-like points. Her arms shifted, the elegant sleeves of her gown morphing and reshaping into high-powered gauntlets, humming with the barely contained devastation of advanced weaponry.

  Rynn exhaled sharply through his nose, his amusement twisting into genuine fascination. The dispy was impressive, undeniably arousing the primal part of his nature that reveled in power and spectacle.

  Pari, still crouched possessively over the mangled corpse of the Battle Maid, lifted her bloodstained muzzle, her golden quills bristling like a thousand tiny bdes unsheathing at once. A low, guttural growl, a sound of pure territorial aggression, rattled in her throat as her crimson-tinged gaze, now utterly feral, locked onto Lyris.

  Without hesitation, driven by a primal instinct to eliminate any perceived threat to her newfound master, she grabbed the lifeless body of the Battle Maid and hurled it straight at the princess with surprising force.

  The corpse blurred through the air, spinning like a discarded ragdoll, but it never reached its intended target. A translucent, shimmering force field, woven from pure mana and activated with a silent command from Lyris’s gauntlet, snapped into existence just before impact.

  The lifeless body smmed against the invisible wall with a sickening thud, bounced back with a disturbing esticity, and nded with a heavy, wet crunch a few feet away. The broken limbs twitched once, then y still.

  Lyris didn't even flinch. Her vender eyes remained locked on Pari, her expression unwavering. Instead, her right arm shifted again—the sleek metal of her gauntlet morphing and reshaping, the intricate circuitry rearranging itself into the unmistakable barrel of a compact, high-powered cannon. Sparks of raw energy snapped across its surface, the air around it crackling as it charged a bst meant to obliterate any obstacle in its path.

  Pari only grinned, a wide, terrifying dispy of sharp fangs. She crouched low to the ground, her golden quills shimmering like wildfire in the afternoon sun, and her mana, a tangible force, condensed into a blinding sphere of pure energy within her open jaws, ready to unleash its destructive potential.

  Two attacks—pure, unadulterated destruction incarnate—hurtled towards each other.

  BOOM.

  The world seemed to split open.

  The explosion ripped through the academy’s ornate gates, vaporizing ancient stone into dust, splintering the ground into jagged craters, and sending violent shockwaves rippling through the surrounding streets. Windows shattered in the buildings beyond the academy walls. Magitech carriages overturned, their enchanted wheels spinning uselessly in the air. Onlookers were knocked to the ground, some screaming in terror, others instinctively shielding their heads from the rain of debris that showered down.

  Rynn remained unmoved, an isnd of calm amidst the devastation, standing amid the swirling dust and wreckage. His tattered coat billowed slightly in the dissipating shockwave.

  When his vision cleared, both Pari and Lyris still stood, albeit neither unscathed. Pari’s golden quills were singed and smoking in pces, and Lyris’s battle suit bore scorch marks across its sleek bck pting. Neither, however, appeared broken.

  They lunged at each other with renewed ferocity.

  Cws of razor-sharp bone against hardened steel. Fangs dripping with blood against humming circuitry. A brutal, primal dance of untamed fury against the cold, calcuted might of technological advancement.

  Then—

  "Rynn!"

  Teris Val’Quen and Aelor Ven’Dral finally caught up, their expressions a mixture of utter exhaustion and raw urgency. They had clearly been trying to reach him amidst the chaos.

  Teris, his usually pristine artificer’s robes singed and torn, bearing the tell-tale signs of residual magical energy, adjusted his soot-smudged gsses with a flick of his wrist. His ste-gray fur was ruffled and covered in dust, and his ears twitched in a frantic rhythm of irritation and worry.

  "You need to stop this fight, Rynn. Now!" he excimed, his voice strained.

  Aelor, his magnificent Deerkin antlers gleaming under the fractured sunlight filtering through the smoke, took a hesitant step forward, his broad chest rising and falling heavily with exertion. "This is going to escate beyond control if you don’t step in, Rynn. The academy will be leveled!"

  Before Rynn could even formute a response, another voice, cool and utterly confident, cut through the lingering echoes of the explosion.

  "I got this."

  Zeta King.

  She moved without hesitation, a shadow slipping through the chaotic battlefield with an almost supernatural grace—silent, deadly, and terrifyingly efficient.

  Pari, her senses still heightened from the adrenaline of the fight, didn’t see her coming.

  Not until it was far too te.

  Zeta’s arms, deceptively slender but possessing the strength honed through years of rigorous assassin training within the King cn, wrapped around Pari’s throat from behind in a swift, inescapable hold.

  A fsh of intense blue energy surged from Zeta’s hands, a signature technique known for its ability to disrupt magical energies and sever neural pathways. Pari’s violent struggles instantly slowed, her powerful limbs twitching weakly.

  Her golden fur dimmed, the ethereal glow fading as her mana reserves were abruptly disrupted. Her body sckened in Zeta’s grip.

  And then, with a soft thud against the ravaged ground, she colpsed into unconsciousness. Pari's body then turned back into a bunnykin.

  Silence descended upon the courtyard, heavy and absolute. Even the stunned onlookers held their breath, the sheer suddenness of Zeta’s intervention leaving them momentarily speechless.

  Rynn blinked slowly, his sapphire eyes narrowed slightly as he observed Zeta’s handiwork. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but… for some inexplicable reason, seeing Zeta subdue Pari with such brutal efficiency sent a strange shiver down his spine.

  Teris let out a soft purr of approval, a sound of professional admiration, then cleared his throat, his tail flicking nervously. “That’s… well, that’s certainly how it’s done.”

  Lyris Starhaven, still adorned in her impressive battle suit, cautiously approached the fallen form of Pari, her magitech cannon still humming faintly.

  Her live-stream continued, the feed now filled with a renewed wave of frantic messages, questions, and expressions of relief.

  Rynn’s sapphire eyes flicked over Lyris’s armored form once more, a slow, appreciative grin spreading across his face. He tilted his head slightly, his voice low and ced with a pyful eagerness.

  "So, Princess," he drawled, his gaze lingering on the sleek lines of her battle suit, "how long are you pnning to wear that… magnificent ensemble?"

  Lyris met his gaze, a confident smirk pying on her own lips, her vender eyes sparkling with a newfound amusement.

  "For the rest of the week, if I like," she retorted, her voice carrying a hint of challenge.

  Rynn’s grin widened, a genuine, unrestrained expression of delight.

  "Yes!" he excimed softly, a thrill coursing through him at the prospect.