The small bird—no larger than a hawk, yet glowing with unnatural energy—sliced through the air toward John with terrifying speed. Its beady, intelligent eyes locked onto him, and its wings shimmered with an eerie blue flame, sizzling the air around it.
But just as the creature was about to reach its mark, a blinding flash of green erupted from behind John. The air crackled. For a heartbeat, everything stilled.
Then the light surged forward—twisting, pulsing, alive.
It wasn't light at all.
A monstrous serpent burst into view, its scales dark emerald and gleaming like polished glass. Wicked thorns jutted out from its massive coils, each one long and razor-sharp like obsidian daggers. The serpent moved with unnatural grace, its body impossibly long, wrapping itself around the bird mid-air with breathtaking precision.
A collective gasp rippled through the onlookers.
The bird screeched—a shrill, panicked cry—and began to thrash violently. But the serpent held fast, coiling tighter and tighter, the thorns digging in. The creature's wings flailed uselessly as its breath came in ragged gasps, its glowing eyes bulging with pain and fear.
John stood frozen, breathless. His heart thundered in his chest, not out of fear, but awe. Whatever had just happened… it had saved him.
From behind the front line of shocked onlookers, a voice finally broke the silence.
"Impossible!" Mark Williamson barked, his voice sharp and trembling. His normally composed expression was shattered, his eyes wide with disbelief. "That's a hybrid! A real one! Only Doctors can tame hybrid monsters!"
His words caused a murmur to rise among the crowd—curious, anxious whispers spreading like fire.
Mark stepped forward, glaring at the serpent as though it were a hallucination. "And not just any Doctor—hybrids are created by high-ranking Doctors. Two-Star, maybe even Three-Star. There shouldn't be anyone here with that kind of clearance!"
His gaze swept over the silent spectators. "Is there a high-ranking Doctor among us?" he demanded, his voice loud now, accusatory.
Then his eyes froze.
They had landed on the group standing quietly behind John—ordinary at first glance, but now Mark looked closer.
Two figures.
Familiar ones.
Doctor Thomas. Tall, lean, and relaxed, with spectacles glinting in the fading light. And beside him, Doctor Luna—her brown hair tied back neatly, her violet eyes calm but unreadable.
Mark's voice dropped to a growl, laced with suspicion. "Doctor Thomas? Doctor Luna? What are you two doing here?"
Doctor Thomas offered a thin smile, unbothered by the intensity in Mark's voice. He adjusted his spectacles with a single finger, then crossed his arms casually.
"Oh, nothing much," he replied, tone light and almost teasing. His eyes locked with Mark's, unwavering. "We just have someone… special here."
A beat of silence passed. All eyes turned to John.
The boy who, moments ago, had seemed helpless.
Now, he stood at the center of the unfolding storm.
And the serpent watched silently, its eyes gleaming with ancient intelligence, still coiled around its prey—awaiting a command.