The space outside of reality possessed no concept of gravity, no definition of time, and no fixed horizon.
It was an endless, churning void of overlapping dimensions, a foggy cosmic canvas where the fragile laws of physics simply ceased to exist.
Suspended effortlessly within this primordial soup was a solitary entity.
She did not possess a body of flesh or bone. Her silhouette bore the soft, feminine curves of a woman, but her "skin" was a mesmerizing, living tapestry of multi-colored light.
Brilliant streams of neon pink, violent violet, electric blue, and sunburst yellow constantly shifted, pulsed, and blended across her form like a breathing aurora borealis.
She was a spectacle of absolute, chaotic brilliance. Her name was Joyful.
"Oh, don't look at me with such a gloomy aura," Joyful's voice echoed through the void.
It didn't come from a mouth; it resonated like a synthesized melody played across a thousand different, chiming frequencies.
Standing opposite her, anchored in the nothingness, was a terrifying contrast to her light.
It was The Dealer.
He stood perfectly immaculate in a midnight blue silk suit tailored so sharply it looked like a second skin, paired with a crisp white shirt and a blood-red tie. His black hair was slicked back, shining like oil.
The spatial pressure radiating from him, however, was so immense, so overwhelmingly heavy, that the cosmic fog around his tall frame visibly warped and twisted in pure terror. His long, spider-like fingers rested at his sides, completely still.
When he looked at her, his eyes weren't the narrow, fox-like slits of a manic casino manager. They were wide, blazing with a quiet, lethal storm. Deep, mesmerizing violet eyes—eyes perfectly, undeniably identical to Cedric's.
"You crossed the line, Joyful," The Dealer growled.
His voice was a low, abyssal tremor that vibrated through the very fabric of the multiverse.
Joyful simply shrugged, the lights shifting into a playful, mocking shade of yellow.
"I was merely curious," she admitted, waving a luminescent hand dismissively.
"It's absurd that such an insignificant mortal is getting special attention from a man of your stature. Who wouldn't want to poke it with a stick just to see how it reacts?"
She tilted her featureless head, the colors swirling into a sharp, questioning pattern.
"But really, why bare your fangs over a mere mortal? A fragile, fleeting human life..."
Joyful paused. The lights on her form glowed a bit brighter as a sudden realization hit her.
"Ah... I understand now. Seeing you react this violently..."
Her colors shifted into a deep, knowing crimson.
"He is the consequence of "that" time, isn't he?"
The Dealer did not answer. But the freezing, murderous intent radiating from him thickened drastically, turning the void into a razor-sharp guillotine.
"Alright, alright! I'll admit, throwing that mutt into the Fissure to force his hand was a bit extreme," Joyful said, raising both hands in a gesture of mock surrender.
Her lights pulsed in a soothing, diplomatic lavender.
"But come on, I didn't actually let him die, did I? I arranged a few things behind the curtain."
She leaned forward, her tone carrying a hint of genuine pride.
"You see, Dealer, we aren't the same. You are chained to your absolute rules and your stoic neutrality. But me? I have a bit more... freedom."
She waved her hand gracefully.
"I can directly intervene. I tweaked the probability strings. I catalyzed the egg's hatching process just in time to stabilize his failing biology. I even made sure that little shark-girl arrived right on cue. In the end, I simply helped your boy break past his mortal limits. Shouldn't you be thanking me instead? He's become stronger now and has a higher survival rate. Kyahahahahaha, come on, give me a few small universes to eat!"
But The Dealer slowly raised his right hand.
He didn't speak. He simply closed his fingers into a tight fist.
KRA-CRACK!
The sound was deafening, like a mountain of glass shattering at once.
The dimensional space existing perfectly between the two entities violently fractured. A massive, jagged hole was physically torn into the fabric of reality, revealing a chaotic, swirling madness of pure, destructive void beneath it.
Joyful flinched.
The lights on her body aggressively spiked into a violent, flashing warning-red before settling into a nervous, flickering blue.
"This is your final warning," The Dealer hissed.
His words were razor-sharp, cutting through the cosmic fog like a physical blade.
"Do not ever touch him again. If this happens a second time... I will not show any respect to 'Father'. Remember that."
The mention of the ultimate creator made Joyful's brilliant lights dim considerably.
"Right, right... I understand," Joyful muttered, her chiming voice losing its playful edge. "I apologize. Truly. There's no need to be such an overprotective parent."
The Dealer didn't linger to hear her excuses.
He turned his back to leave.
"Ah, wait a minute," Joyful called out, her lights shifting back to a softer hue. "Send my apologies to my "sister-in-law", will you?"
The Dealer vanished without another word, erasing his overwhelming presence from the void in an instant.
Left entirely alone, Joyful stared at the violently shattered piece of space as it slowly, painfully began to knit itself back together.
Her brilliant colors shifted into a slow, melancholic, monochromatic blue.
She looked down at her glowing, ethereal hands.
She then cast her gaze piercingly through the layers of reality, looking past the cosmic veil and focusing entirely on one specific universe.
Her sight bypassed the sprawling galaxies and nebulas, zooming directly down upon the mortal realm of New Eridu, falling squarely onto the brightly lit emergency wing of a human hospital.
"What is it like, I wonder?" she murmured to the empty void.
"To have someone beneath you... someone to worry about, someone to protect?"
She floated there in the silence, her lights pulsing softly.
"It has been so long since I felt a connection like that... I don't think I even remember."
...
...
...
The chaotic nightmare of the Hollow had finally ended.
It was replaced by the sterile, aggressively bright lights of the ICU waiting room.
Cedric was out of the operating room. He was heavily bandaged, his pulverized right arm encased in a massive cast, and sleeping peacefully in a medically induced coma.
"Everything is settled here," Ellen announced, her voice flat, devoid of its usual lethargic drawl.
"He's stable. The doctors said he'll sleep for days. I'm heading back."
"Ellen, wait. Thank you," Wise said, standing up on shaky legs. "If you hadn't carried him out..."
"I was just doing my job," Ellen deflected smoothly.
She turned toward the sliding glass doors of the hospital lobby. "See ya."
She took one step, but her red sneaker felt strangely heavy.
She tried to take another step, but her leg refused to move forward.
Frowning, Ellen looked down.
Sitting on the immaculate white linoleum floor was a blue, bipedal creature. With its wide, massive jaw taking up almost its entire body, the vibrant red underbelly covering its lower half, and the rigid, light-blue striped protrusions on either side of its head, it looked like a tiny, aggressive land-shark.
Gible, whom Belle had smuggled into the hospital inside a duffel bag, had waddled out while everyone was distracted by the doctors.
Currently, the creature had its short, stubby arms wrapped fiercely around Ellen's left ankle.
Its massive jaw was clamped gently but firmly onto the torn fabric of her black skirt.
It wasn't biting her; it was anchoring itself to her.
"Let go," Ellen ordered, shaking her leg.
"Gyu..."
Gible let out a soft, pathetic whine. It squeezed her leg tighter.
It looked up at her with large, round black eyes with stark white pupils that practically swam with tears.
It had imprinted the scent of the apex predator who had saved its master. It felt safe with her. It did not want her to leave.
"Hey, look at that! The little guy loves you!" Billy chuckled.
His mechanical joints whirred as he crouched down to get a better look at the creature.
"Can't say I blame him. You were pretty badass back there with those giant ice scissors."
Billy, completely devoid of self-preservation instincts, reached a metallic finger out to poke the dorsal fin on Gible's head.
"Who's a cute little exotic pet? You ar—"
Gible's primal instincts flared.
Faster than the eye could track, the creature unlatched from Ellen's skirt, spun around, and opened its massive maw.
CHOMP.
Gible bit down with devastating, bone-crushing force directly onto Billy's outstretched mechanical hand.
"YEEEOUCH!" Billy shrieked, his voice box glitching into a high-pitched squeal.
He jumped backward, wildly flailing his arm in the air.
"It bit me! The little blue torpedo bit me!"
Gible stubbornly refused to let go.
It dangled in the air, its jaw locked onto Billy's steel plating like a vice, letting out muffled, angry, territorial growls.
"Grrrr-clack-clack!"
"Fascinating," Anby muttered, observing the scene with clinical detachment.
"Its jaw strength is sufficient to dent reinforced steel."
"It's a gremlin! Get it off me!" Billy panicked, shaking his arm harder.
However, as he stopped flailing and actually looked at the creature dangling from his hand, his panic strangely morphed.
"Wait a second..."
Billy leaned in closer, observing the creature's round, angry eyes and the tiny, determined growls.
"Oh my god. Look at those little teeth! It's actually trying to chew through my casing! That is so incredibly cute! You're a ferocious little guy, aren't ya?"
"Billy, do not encourage hostile behavior," Anby sighed.
Ellen pinched the bridge of her nose. The headache returning with a vengeance.
"Drop it," Ellen commanded.
Her voice dropped to a terrifying, cold octave that reeked of absolute apex-predator authority.
Gible froze instantly. It recognized the tone.
Slowly, reluctantly, it opened its jaws, dropping from Billy's arm and landing on the floor with a soft thump.
It immediately scurried back to Ellen, hiding behind her calves and peeking out at Billy with a suspicious glare.
"Okay, this is a problem," Wise said, rubbing her temples.
"We can't keep it here. New Eridu has plenty of strange, exotic animals, but the hospital staff will definitely call Public Security if they see an unregistered pet biting people."
Wise looked at the blue creature.
"If they think it's a stray contaminated by the Hollow, they'll confiscate it."
"They'll throw him in the city pound!" Belle cried out, horrified. "Or put him in quarantine! If Cedric wakes up and finds out his partner was taken away, it will break his heart."
Wise slowly turned her head. Her teal eyes locked onto Ellen.
Ellen saw the look.
She instantly took a massive step backward, crossing her arms defensively over her chest.
"No. Absolutely not. Don't even think about it."
"Ellen, listen," Wise pleaded, clasping her hands together. "We need your help. Not just to babysit, but to register him."
Ellen raised an eyebrow, her shark tail swishing in sheer annoyance. "What does that have to do with me?"
"You work for Victoria Housekeeping," Wise explained calmly.
"Your agency has immaculate credentials. If Belle or I try to register a strange, undocumented creature right after a Hollow incident, it might draw unwanted scrutiny to our... side business."
Wise took a step closer.
"But if you walk into the registry office and vouch for him? If you say it's a rare exotic pet belonging to a high-profile client of Victoria Housekeeping? Public Security won't ask twice. They trust your agency implicitly."
"Plus," Belle chimed in, pointing at Ellen's legs. "He clearly likes you best. He won't even let go of your skirt."
"I am a professional maid," Ellen stated coldly.
"I clean mansions. I serve tea. I do not run a daycare for exotic animals. It's too much of a hassle."
Her tone lacked its usual icy conviction, though.
"I just dragged Cedric out of a Hollow. I am completely exhausted. Taking care of a hyperactive, biting pet just means extra work, and I really just want to go home and sleep."
"Gi?"
Ellen felt a soft weight against her knee. She looked down.
Gible was looking up at her with those large, round black eyes with stark white pupils.
It didn't look scary right now. It looked incredibly small, lost, and desperate for an anchor.
Slowly, the creature lifted one of its short, stubby arms, and its single claw gently patted Ellen's knee.
When Ellen didn't kick it away, Gible let out a soft, trilling purr and rubbed its hammerhead-like snout affectionately against her torn black stockings.
Ellen stared at it. She looked at its little dorsal fin.
In a bizarre, twisted way, it was a shark. Just like her.
"Tsk." Ellen clicked her tongue.
Her shoulders slumped in absolute, miserable defeat.
She reached down, grabbing Gible by the scruff of its neck.
She hoisted the heavy creature effortlessly into the air. Gible didn't struggle; it just dangled there, blinking happily at her.
"Fine," Ellen grumbled, her cheeks dusting with a very faint shade of pink.
"I'll take the stupid thing. I'll handle the registration paperwork under the agency's guarantor program. But only until he wakes up."
"Thank you, Ellen! You're a lifesaver!" Wise beamed, sagging with relief.
Ellen didn't reply.
She grabbed the empty duffel bag from Belle, shoved the unresisting Gible inside, and zipped it up, leaving a generous gap for air.
She slung the heavy bag over her shoulder, pushing through the automatic glass doors and stepping out into the cool night air of New Eridu.
...
...
...
The walk back was a grueling test of endurance.
The heavy duffel bag shifted constantly as Gible adjusted its position, making Ellen's exhausted muscles scream in protest.
When she finally pushed open the heavy mahogany front doors of the grand estate, the quiet, immaculate sanctuary of Victoria Housekeeping stood in stark contrast to the absolute disaster she currently was.
"I'm back," Ellen announced, her voice flat.
The reaction was instantaneous.
"S-Senior Ellen?!"
Corin, whose petite, delicate frame barely reached the pedestal holding a priceless Ming vase, shrieked.
The feather duster slipped from her hands. The jagged, saw-tooth hem of her maid skirt swished wildly as she stumbled forward, her pale green pigtails—secured with distinctive 'X' shaped ties—bouncing as her youthful face contorted in absolute horror at Ellen's blood-stained, shredded uniform.
"Oh my goodness! Oh my—blood! There's blood everywhere!" Corin panicked.
Her hands hovered nervously in the air. Tears welled up instantly.
"Who did this to you?! I'll get the first aid kit! Please don't die, Senior Ellen!"
"Corin, calm down. It's not mostly my blood," Ellen sighed.
She dropped the heavy duffel bag onto the plush Persian rug with a loud thump.
Before Corin could hyperventilate further, soft, measured footsteps descended the grand staircase.
Rina walked gracefully downward, her tall, elegant figure moving with a phantom-like grace. Her distinctive ash-green hair was styled in a sophisticated updo, and her incredibly expensive, long black-and-white maid dress trailed silently behind her white stockings and black leather heels.
However, the perpetually serene, maternal smile vanished from her sharp, calm eyes the moment they landed on Ellen.
"Ellen, my dear..." Rina's voice was laced with profound concern.
She stepped closer, her delicate fingers gently brushing a soot-stained strand of hair from Ellen's face, mindful not to snag her lavish outfit.
"Lycaon informed us you were dispatched to a spatial collapse, but we did not expect you to return in such a state. Are you injured?"
"I'm fine, Rina. Just a few scrapes. I just need a hot bath and about fourteen hours of sleep."
"Of course. Let me draw the water for you immediately," Rina instructed smoothly. "Corin, please fetch the antiseptic creams."
"Y-Yes, Miss Rina!"
But before anyone could move, the black duffel bag on the floor suddenly began to vibrate.
Zip-zip-zip.
The zipper was forcefully pushed open from the inside by a blue snout.
Gible poked its head out, blinking against the warm, chandelier-lit foyer.
It sniffed the air, smelling lavender and sweet pastries.
Deciding this place was acceptable, it waddled completely out of the bag, shaking its body like a wet dog.
"Gible!" it chirped happily.
The silence in the foyer was absolute.
Corin froze mid-step. Rina paused, her hands clasped delicately in front of her.
Both stared at the bipedal creature. With its hammerhead-like silhouette, massive jaw, and single-clawed short arms, it looked like a monster straight out of a comic book, currently sniffing the leg of a mahogany side table.
"Ellen..." Rina began, her voice perfectly polite but deeply inquisitive. "What... exactly is that?"
"A-An exotic pet!" Corin squeaked, hiding her small frame behind Rina's tall, slender figure.
"It's a very long, very annoying story. The short version is: I have to babysit it for a few days," Ellen groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Gible waddled over to Corin, who let out a small whimper of fear, her hands clutching the large zipper detail on the back of her uniform.
But Gible didn't bare its teeth. Instead, it sat back on its haunches, tilted its head, and let out a soft, trilling sound.
"Gyuuu."
It gently nudged its smooth blue snout against the toe of Corin's shoe.
Corin peeked out. Her fear melted instantly, replaced by an overwhelming, pure adoration.
"O-Oh..." Corin whispered, her eyes sparkling beneath her soft bangs.
She slowly sank to her knees, reaching out a trembling hand.
Gible leaned into her palm, closing its eyes as she timidly petted the smooth skin of its head.
"It's so soft. And warm. Oh my goodness, Miss Rina, look at its little protrusions! It looks a little bit like Senior Ellen!"
"Hey!" Ellen snapped, her tail swishing defensively. "Do not compare me to that walking stomach."
Rina knelt down elegantly, a delighted smile blooming on her face.
"My, my. What a fascinating little creature."
She gracefully extended a hand, gently scratching the sweet spot right behind Gible's dorsal fin.
Gible's leg started thumping against the floor in pure bliss. It let out a happy, vibrating purr.
"It seems quite tame," Rina noted, her eyes crinkling with amusement.
"And incredibly affectionate. New Eridu has many rare breeds, but I have never seen one quite like this. I suppose Victoria Housekeeping can accommodate a guest for a few days."
Just as the tension dissipated, the distinct, rhythmic clicking of metal descending the marble staircase echoed through the hall.
Lycaon emerged.
The towering, 198-centimeter Wolf Thiren was a picture of absolute, unshakeable perfection.
His crisp white shirt and black vest were immaculate, the silver and gold screw-like buttons on his gloves catching the light alongside the golden pocket watch dangling from his stylish red cravat. His pristine white fur—accented by the distinct black tips on his messy hair and fluffy wolf ears—was brushed to absolute flawlessness.
"I heard a commotion. Ellen, you have returned," Lycaon said, his deep, refined voice projecting effortlessly.
The cybernetic joints of his prosthetic legs carried him down the final steps with a powerful, precise mechanical grace. He paused, his keen gaze assessing her ragged appearance.
"I will require a full debriefing. However, your physical well-being takes precedence. You are dismissed to recuperate."
"Thanks, boss," Ellen sighed.
"Ah, but before you go, Lycaon," Rina spoke up, her voice laced with a subtle, mischievous melodic lilt.
She stepped aside, revealing the blue creature sitting on the Persian rug. "We have a guest."
Lycaon's ears twitched. He descended the final step, his sharp, feral crimson eye—the other hidden perfectly beneath his signature black eyepatch—locking onto Gible.
Gible looked up.
Its primitive instincts flared immediately.
It saw a massive, towering apex predator covered in thick white fur, exuding an aura of disciplined, dangerously capable power. To a newborn, this was highly intimidating.
"Fascinating," Lycaon murmured, a low, primal growl subtly vibrating beneath his gentlemanly tone as he adjusted his black gloves.
He maintained his impeccable aristocratic posture as he slowly bent at the waist.
"A rare exotic breed, I presume? The city's registry occasionally documents such unique fauna."
"Why don't you pet it, Lycaon?" Rina suggested, an innocent, angelic smile on her face. "It is incredibly soft."
"I suppose establishing a cordial relationship with our guest is the duty of a proper host," Lycaon agreed flawlessly.
He elegantly reached his right hand up to his left wrist, resting just below the black belt strapped to his arm.
With a smooth, practiced motion, he pulled his immaculate white glove off. He slowly extended his large, furred hand toward Gible's head.
"A pleasure to meet you, little on—"
Gible panicked.
The giant, terrifying wolf-man was reaching for it. Its survival instincts overrode all logic.
Gible sucked in a massive breath of air, its chest expanding dramatically.
PHOOOSH!
With a forceful exhale, Gible executed a point-blank Sand Attack.
A thick, concentrated stream of coarse, gritty sand erupted from its mouth, blasting directly upward with pinpoint accuracy.
It hit Lycaon square in the face.
The perfect, unshakeable composure of the Victoria Housekeeping butler shattered in a single second.
"Gah!"
Lycaon stumbled backward, throwing his hands up over his face.
The gritty sand coated his pristine white fur, infiltrated his sensitive ears, and completely blinded him.
He let out a highly undignified, coughing sneeze, his good crimson eye stinging fiercely.
"My eyes! Good heavens, the grit!" Lycaon grunted.
He vigorously rubbed his face, completely abandoning his aristocratic posture as he tried to blink the sand out of his cornea.
"Gi-ble!"
Gible, completely unfazed by the chaos it had just caused, puffed out its chest.
It planted its short legs firmly on the rug and crossed its stubby, single-clawed arms in front of its brick-red underbelly.
It looked incredibly proud of itself, firmly believing it had just successfully defeated the giant, terrifying apex predator.
"Oh my! Mr. Lycaon!" Corin screamed in absolute horror, grabbing her twin pigtails. "I'm so sorry! I'll get the eye wash! Oh, this is a disaster!"
Rina, on the other hand, took a delicate step back.
She gracefully brought a hand to her mouth, but it did nothing to hide the soft, melodious, and highly amused giggles escaping her lips as she watched the usually flawless wolf flail blindly.
Ellen, who had been halfway down the hall, turned around.
The exhaustion in her eyes was replaced by sheer, undeniable exasperation.
She trudged back into the foyer, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"You idiot," Ellen sighed.
She reached down and grabbed Gible by the scruff of its neck, hoisting the triumphant creature effortlessly into the air until it was eye-level with her.
Gible blinked, still looking quite pleased with itself.
"Wipe that smug look off your face," Ellen scolded mildly, her shark teeth bared in a tired, half-hearted scowl.
"He was trying to be nice. You don't spit sand at the boss. Do you have any idea how long it takes him to brush that fur?"
Gible's proud demeanor faltered just a bit. Its lower lip quivered slightly, confused as to why it wasn't receiving praise for its heroic defense.
"Apologize. Now," Ellen demanded.
She grabbed Gible's two short, stubby arms.
With firm but gentle force, she pulled them together, forcing the creature to cross its limbs in front of its chest, mimicking a bowing, apologetic posture.
"Say you're sorry."
Gible looked toward Lycaon, who was currently accepting a wet towel from a panicked Corin to wipe his face.
"Gyuuu... Gi..." Gible whimpered reluctantly.
It was a long, drawn-out sound. It bowed its head, begrudgingly apologizing to the fuzzy giant just to keep its new caretaker happy.
Lycaon paused, the wet towel held against his face.
He straightened his posture, clearing his throat to regain a fraction of his dignity.
"Ahem. I... I accept your apology," Lycaon said formally, his voice slightly strained.
"It was merely a misunderstanding of intent. A defensive reflex. It is quite alright."
He turned blindly toward Rina. "Rina, if you would be so kind as to guide me to the washroom. I find my vision is temporarily compromised."
"Of course, Lycaon. Lean on me," Rina smiled, gently taking his arm, still suppressing a giggle as she led the blinded wolf away.
The foyer emptied, leaving Ellen alone with the dangling creature.
She glared at it. Gible blinked back, still keeping its little arms crossed in apology.
"You are a menace," Ellen sighed. She lowered her arm and dropped Gible back onto the rug. "Come on. You stink like the Hollow, and I need a bath."
[The Sanctuary]
The private bathroom attached to Ellen's quarters was a sanctuary of white marble, polished brass, and serene quiet.
The air was thick with fragrant, billowing steam, smelling of expensive vanilla bath salts and jasmine soap.
The massive, claw-foot bathtub was filled to the brim with scalding hot water. A thick layer of fluffy white bubbles covered the surface.
Ellen had finally peeled off the ruined remains of her maid uniform, tossing the bloody fabric into a hamper with a heavy sigh.
Standing in front of the full-length mirror, she inspected the damage.
Dark, blossoming purple bruises painted her ribs and back. A shallow, jagged cut ran across her collarbone. They ached with a deep, throbbing intensity.
But she didn't care about the bruises.
Every time she looked at the marks, her mind flashed back to Cedric's mangled arm.
She closed her eyes, shaking her head to clear the intrusive thought, and stepped into the tub.
The scalding hot water bit into her skin.
It sent a violent shiver of absolute pleasure down her spine as her exhausted muscles finally, blissfully uncoiled.
She sank down until the water reached her chin, letting out a long, shuddering sigh. Her heavy black tail rested comfortably over the edge of the porcelain tub.
Splish. Splash.
At the far end of the oversized tub, Gible was having the time of its life.
It was paddling happily in the shallow end, using its short arms to propel itself through the thick mountain of white bubbles.
It popped up from beneath the foam, a large cluster of bubbles resting comically on top of its head like a fluffy white afro.
"Gible!" it chirped, blowing a stream of water from its mouth.
Ellen watched it lazily through half-closed eyes.
The fierce, icy apex predator from the Hollow was completely gone. It was replaced by a tired, quiet teenage girl just trying to find a moment of peace.
She reached out a wet hand, picking up a soft, soapy sponge.
"Come here, you," she murmured.
Gible paddled over eagerly. It rested its front claws on Ellen's thigh beneath the water.
Ellen gently began to scrub the leathery blue skin of its back, washing away the stubborn, grey soot of the Hollow.
Gible closed its eyes, letting out a soft, vibrating purr that gently rippled the bathwater. It leaned heavily into the sponge.
As she scrubbed, Ellen's thoughts drifted back to the sterile ICU room.
She thought about Cedric lying there, so pale and broken.
She had always thought of him as a weird, quiet kid.
A gloomy puzzle piece that didn't quite fit into the loud, chaotic picture of New Eridu.
He played fighting games with robotic precision. He was boring, predictable, and remarkably easy to tease.
She thought about the way he had held the glass of water at the cafe, so perfectly still.
She thought about the way he had caught her heavy tail without flinching.
A strange, unfamiliar tightness bloomed in her chest.
She didn't like seeing him broken. She wanted the quiet, boring boy back. She wanted him sitting at the arcade machine, frustrating her with his skills.
"You better wake up, Cedric," Ellen whispered into the quiet, steamy air of the bathroom, her voice barely a breath.
She paused, looking down at the creature in her lap.
"And I'm definitely not taking care of your stupid shark forever."
Gible, sensing the sudden melancholy in her voice, stopped paddling. It looked up at her, its black eyes blinking through the steam.
It reached up with a short, wet arm and gently patted Ellen's cheek with its smooth claw. It smeared a small patch of white bubbles onto her skin.
"Gi-ble," it trilled softly, a sound of pure, innocent comfort.
Ellen blinked. She looked at the bubbles on her face, then down at the creature looking at her so earnestly.
The heavy, melancholic tension in her chest suddenly broke.
A genuine, soft, and remarkably beautiful smile touched her lips, revealing a flash of her serrated teeth.
"Yeah, yeah. I know," she murmured softly.
She scooped up a handful of water and playfully splashed it over Gible's head. She washed the bubble afro away.
Gible sneezed, a tiny spark of harmless, joyous energy leaving its snout. It then dived back under the bubbles with a happy splash.
The water was starting to cool.
Ellen pulled the plug, letting the soapy water drain away, and stepped out of the tub. She grabbed a large, fluffy towel from the heated rack.
Gible clambered out after her, immediately shaking its body vigorously. It sent a spray of leftover bubbles and water droplets flying across the pristine marble walls.
"Hey!" Ellen scolded, throwing a second, massive bath towel over the creature.
She bundled Gible up, wrapping the towel tightly until only its smooth blue snout, the tips of its striped protrusions, and its round black eyes poked out. It looked exactly like a thick, blue, terrycloth burrito.
Ellen dried her own hair roughly, slipping into a comfortable pair of loose athletic shorts and an oversized black t-shirt.
GRRRRRRRR.
A loud, rumbling sound echoed through the bathroom.
Ellen paused, rubbing her stomach. She hadn't eaten since early morning. The Hollow had completely drained her caloric reserves.
GURGGGGG.
An even louder, deeper rumble answered.
Ellen looked down. The blue burrito on the floor was vibrating. Gible's stomach was demanding fuel.
"Right," Ellen mumbled. "Food. Let's see what the kitchen left out."
She scooped up the towel-wrapped Gible, tucking the heavy bundle under one arm, and padded barefoot down the hall toward the estate's massive kitchen.
The kitchen of Victoria Housekeeping was as immaculate as the rest of the mansion.
Stainless steel counters gleamed under the soft overhead lights. The air smelled faintly of herbs and roasted garlic.
Sitting in the absolute center of the main island counter was a massive, ornate silver tray, covered by a large cloche. Propped against it was an elegant, handwritten note from Rina.
For our guest. A high-protein selection to aid in recovery. Eat well! - Rina
Ellen dumped the Gible-burrito onto the floor. The creature wiggled out of the towel, sniffing the air furiously.
Ellen lifted the heavy silver cloche.
Underneath was a mountain of premium, high-quality raw cuts of beef, perfectly seared tuna steaks, and a side of seasoned, roasted bone marrow. It was a feast fit for a king.
Gible didn't hesitate.
"Gi!"
It launched itself onto a nearby stool, then onto the counter. It practically dove face-first into the mountain of meat.
Despite its ravenous hunger, Gible ate with surprising efficiency. Its powerful jaws snapped through the thick cuts of beef like they were butter, swallowing the portions whole.
Ellen watched it eat for a moment before turning her attention to the massive, commercial-grade refrigerator.
She rummaged through the shelves until she found exactly what she was looking for: a large, leftover slice of rich, dark chocolate cake and a cold bottle of milk.
She sat down on a stool opposite Gible, stabbing her fork into the cake.
The sugar hit her bloodstream instantly, causing her to let out a contented hum. Her heavy tail finally stopped its restless twitching, draping lazily over the rung of the stool.
As she took another bite, she felt a pair of eyes on her.
She looked up.
Gible had completely decimated the mountain of meat on the silver tray. There wasn't a single scrap left. Now, it was sitting perfectly still on the counter, staring intently at the slice of chocolate cake in Ellen's hand.
It licked its chops, letting out a soft, hopeful Gyuuu.
"No way," Ellen said around a mouthful of cake. "Chocolate is for me. You just ate your body weight in raw beef."
Gible tilted its head. It didn't try to steal the cake. It just kept staring, deploying those massive, glittering, innocent black eyes to maximum effect.
Ellen tried to ignore it. She took another bite.
But the silence was heavy with expectation.
She glanced back. Gible was still staring. It let out another, slightly more pathetic whine.
"Ugh."
Ellen rolled her eyes. She used her fork to break off a small, generous corner of the chocolate cake. She held it out.
"Don't tell Lycaon," she muttered.
Gible happily snapped the piece of cake out of the air, swallowing it instantly. It let out a loud, vibrating purr of approval.
"Alright, that's enough," Ellen said, finishing her milk and setting the glass in the sink. "Bedtime."
She didn't bother carrying Gible this time. She simply turned off the kitchen lights and walked back down the hall.
The creature waddled loyally behind her, its short legs padding softly against the hardwood floors.
When they entered her bedroom, Ellen collapsed onto the bed with a heavy, exhausted groan.
She didn't even bother pulling the covers back; she just sprawled out on top of the duvet, burying her face in a fluffy pillow.
A moment later, she felt the mattress shift.
Gible had used its powerful legs to hop onto the bed. It waddled over, sniffing Ellen's shoulder.
Normally, Ellen would have kicked anyone or anything off her bed immediately. Her sleeping space was sacred.
But tonight, she was simply too tired to argue.
Gible circled a few times before curling up directly against Ellen's back, pressing its smooth, warm body against her spine.
It let out one final, soft sigh, its breathing slowing into a deep, rhythmic pattern.
Ellen felt the steady, comforting weight against her back. The warmth seeped through her t-shirt, easing the remaining tension in her bruised muscles.
She didn't push it away.
Instead, the terrifying apex predator of Victoria Housekeeping closed her eyes, letting the rhythmic breathing of the land-shark lull her into a deep, dreamless sleep.