As dawn peeled the darkness away, Shion slipped on his jacket and stepped toward the door.
"I'm going to Boraco Police Station," he said plainly.
"Buy some groceries while you're at it!" Miyato called back. His voice echoed awkwardly, strained by what sounded like a life-or-death struggle behind the bathroom door. "And don't take too long!"
Shion sighed, already opening the door. "I'll try."
The morning air greeted him cool and sharp. With a single bend of his knees, he launched himself forward, bounding across rooftops and streets toward his destination.
Boraco City lay east of Catamiya Town—a sprawling metropolis born from the post-Glitch era. Technology ruled every corner of it. Flying cars drifted through designated air lanes like schools of metallic fish. Robotic civil servants patrolled intersections, their voices calm and synthetic as they guided both humans and anomalies alike. Towering buildings gleamed with holographic screens embedded into their walls, endlessly cycling advertisements, public notices, and anomaly safety warnings.
When Shion landed at the city's outer district, he immediately adjusted his movement. Boraco's laws were strict—jumping above fifty meters without clearance could earn you a fine, or worse, liability charges if you so much as grazed a building or disrupted aerial traffic.
He broke into a run instead.
As he passed a charred apartment complex—its walls blackened, windows hollowed out—his pace slowed.
Shion frowned.
The burned structure clawed at his memory, dragging him back six weeks into the past.
Back then, Shion had been in Boraco for something trivial—picking up spare compartments his brother needed for repairs. His brother made a living as a mechanic, his garage always alive with sparks, oil stains, and half-finished machines.
Shion, as usual, had been careless.
He'd been running—too fast, not looking left or right—when a truck screamed toward the crosswalk. He would've been crushed if not for a sudden force yanking him backward.
"Take it slow, young man."
The voice was firm but warm.
"Why are you in such a rush?"
Shion blinked, heart pounding, staring up at the woman who had just saved his life.
She was a Grade-D anomaly.
Her body bore reptilian traits—scaled skin catching the light, slit pupils set in kind, weary eyes. Her form was humanoid, but unmistakably altered. That alone made Shion stiffen with instinctive nervousness, something he hated himself for.
"Oh—! I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I wasn't paying attention. Thank you for saving me, um… ma'am?"
She smiled, exposing slightly sharp teeth. "Call me Miss Jule."
Her smile didn't fade. "Youngsters these days—always rushing like the world's chasing them. Look left and right next time, okay?"
"Yes, thank you!" Shion bowed quickly before hurrying off, shame and relief tangled tightly in his chest.
Later that day, after collecting the parts, Shion returned to Boraco City again—this time for groceries his brother had ordered.
That was when he spotted her.
Miss Jule.
Recognizing her apartment building, Shion hesitated only a moment before approaching. He carried a small bag of fruit—nothing fancy, just a quiet gesture of gratitude.
He knocked.
The door opened, and Miss Jule's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh my. Young man?"
Shion held out the bag. "Sorry for following you. You saved me earlier, and I thought I wanted to express my thanks."
She chuckled softly. "You didn't need to do this." Then she stepped aside. "But come in."
Her apartment was modest—clean, warm, lived-in. Plants lined the windows, carefully tended despite the city's pollution.
"So," Shion asked gently, "how's life treating you, Miss? Are people… kind?"
Her smile faltered—not gone, but tired.
"Not really," she admitted with a heavy sigh. "Children repeat what their parents teach them. Harsh words spurted out easily when they don't understand what they're seeing." She glanced down at her hands. "Daily life is difficult for our kind."
Shion swallowed.
She was right.
Grade-D anomalies suffered the worst discrimination—nearly seventy percent of anomaly-related hate crimes targeted them. Their bodies bore visible distortions, often paired with unstable instincts. To many humans, they were reminders of the Glitch's cruelty rather than its miracles.
Grade-D anomalies were considered failures of the system. The TCA tried to help—offering relocation zones, research-backed rehabilitation programs—but acceptance was rare. Rumors spread unchecked: that marrying a Grade-D was a curse, that their children would be malformed, that proximity alone was dangerous.
None of it was true.
Anomalies were born—not inherited through fear or superstition. A human and an anomaly could have a perfectly normal child, just as easily as an anomalous one. Yet myths hardened into "facts," passed down like warnings carved into stone.
And people like Miss Jule paid the price.
"Sometimes I wonder if the TCA truly made the right choice," Jule said quietly.
Her voice carried no anger—only tiredness. The kind that came from decades of disappointment layered one atop another. Her long, scaled fingers curled together in her lap as if trying to hold herself in place.
"My parents abandoned me when I was still small," she continued. "They said they couldn't raise something… like me."
A weak, humorless smile crossed her lips. "Employment was barely possible. People always look at my body before my words. Before my effort. Life has been very… harsh."
She lowered her gaze, shoulders sinking under the weight of forty lonely years.
"But," she continued softly, lifting her gaze toward Shion, "those worries faded when you knocked on my door. It seems fear doesn't reach everyone."
Shion's eyes widened as her words held relief that felt rare.
Shion's throat tightened. He blinked rapidly, but tears started spilling down his cheeks. He wiped them away as he hid his face. He had no right to pretend he understood her pain, yet his heart ached all the same.
And on that night, Shion decided to visit her every day.
For the next week, Shion visited her every day.
He brought fruits, warm meals, groceries—small acts that carried no pity, only sincerity. Each knock on her door made Jule's eyes light up just a little more. Her laughter returned, fragile at first, then genuine.
For forty years, no one had trusted her like this.
No one had treated her as human.
Then, whispers began crawling through the streets.
"I heard that ugly lady lives there…"
"That place is cursed."
"Reptiles hate heat, right?"
"Why don't we burn it down?"
"That'll teach those freaks not to live on our turf."
"I don't know, Tom… that sounds too far—"
"Who made you leader? I'll show that lizard she doesn't belong here."
Tom's grin was sharp.
Oil sloshed inside a glass bottle. Paper was stuffed into its neck. A flame kissed the tip.
And then—
The Molotov flew.
"Fire?!"
Shion froze as flames erupted against the apartment walls, heat surging outward like a living thing. Smoke billowed into the sky, thick and choking. Screams echoed from the stairwell as residents fled in panic.
He ran.
A boy stumbled into him, face pale, voice shaking.
"M-Mister! You gotta help! My… my friends—they hate the lizard lady. They burned the place down."
"They WHAT?!"
Shion didn't wait.
Realizing the Molotov had been thrown straight into Miss Jule's window, Shion didn't hesitate. People were evacuating in panic, screams echoing through the stairwells.
Three people were still inside.
Including her.
Shion shattered Jule's door and rushed in.
She was crouched in the corner, arms wrapped around herself, scales trembling.
"NO—STAY BACK!" she screamed.
Panic had overwhelmed her.
When a Grade-D anomaly experienced overwhelming emotions, their survival instincts took over—especially transmute types. Reason collapsed beneath fear.
Shion watched in frozen horror as her body convulsed and expanded, growing nearly three times her original height of 162 centimeters. Bone groaned and stretched beneath tightening skin, her teeth lengthening into jagged, predatory fangs while her fingers hardened into brutal claws. The woman who had once spoken gently now stood consumed by a transformation she neither wanted nor could stop.
"No—Miss Jule! It's me, Shion! Remember?" His voice cut through the roaring fire as he reached toward her, desperation bleeding into every word. For a fleeting moment, he thought she might hesitate. But fear had already swallowed her whole. With a shrill, inhuman screech, her massive tail lashed out, striking him with overwhelming force. Shion was hurled across the room, his body crashing violently into a concrete wall as pain tore through him. Before he could even catch his breath, his eyes snapped toward the stairwell—another cry pierced the smoke. A father and his young daughter were trapped above, flames closing in around them with no escape in sight.
Shion forced himself upright despite the agony screaming through his body. The fire was spreading too fast, the heat warping the air itself, and there was no sign of firefighters yet. If he hesitated, they would die. Gritting his teeth, he pushed forward—but the rampage hadn't ended. Miss Jule's uncontrollable frenzy caught him mid-motion. A violent impact sent him soaring upward, smashing through floors before gravity claimed him.
He fell hard, crashing all the way down to the bottom level of the building, the world spinning as debris rained around him. The realization struck him that he wouldn't save them in time.
""Ugh… damn it… Miss Jule, snap out of it!" Shion forced himself upright, his legs shaking beneath him as he coughed violently. Thick smoke burned his lungs with every breath, each inhale scraping his throat raw. His vision blurred, but even through the haze he could see it was already too late. Miss Jule loomed over the upper floor, grotesque and trembling, her instincts fully in control. The father stood between her and his daughter, shielding the child with his own body as her eyes locked onto them, saliva dripping from her sharpened fangs.
Shion's fists tightened.
There was no time left for hesitation.
"No other choice," he muttered, his expression hardening as resolve drowned out fear. "I'm sorry, Miss Jule."
He tilted his head upward and shouted with everything he had left, his voice tearing through the chaos. "Hey—grab on!" From the very bottom floor, he watched as the father clutched a jutting ledge, wrapping one arm around his daughter, holding her close as flames licked at the collapsing structure.
"Power Charge: Maximum Output!"
Purple lightning erupted across Shion's body, crawling over his skin like living veins of energy. The air around him warped violently, pressure building to an unbearable point.
"Maximum—STRIKE!"
He launched an upward punch in a single, slow but devastating motion.
The impact detonated into a roaring surge of wind, a hurricane born from raw force. The blast slammed into Miss Jule, tearing her away from the father and child, and ripped through the apartment itself. Walls shattered, debris was flung outward, and the inferno was crushed beneath the overwhelming pressure—flames snuffed out in an instant as the building screamed under the weight of destruction.
The evacuees who stood near it, began to run more to safety due to the sudden hurricane.
The man's grip gave out from the intense power.
With no strength left to cling to the ledge, he pulled his daughter tightly against his chest and braced himself, turning his body to shield her as they fell. They slammed onto the same floor as Shion, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. Dust and debris exploded around them. Blood trickled down the man's forehead, his bones broken, he could feel his shoulders dislocated, but he ignored it, forcing himself upright just long enough to look at his daughter.
"Are you alright?" he asked hoarsely.
She nodded, shaken but alive.
Relief broke across his face as he smiled, trembling, before his strength finally gave way.
"That blast was deadly... It could've killed us." The man observed around the demolished place, everything was in debris. He had noticed this wasn't the ground floor, Shion had destroyed it and turned into a small crater just by minimum impact alone.
Moments later, Miss Jule's massive body crashed down nearby, the monstrous form shrinking as consciousness slipped from her. Her breathing was shallow, uneven, her transformation beginning to unravel as exhaustion overtook her.
Then the aftermath came crashing down.
The immense wind pressure Shion had unleashed—force that had torn the building apart and smothered the flames—rebounded violently. The structure groaned, beams snapping, entire sections collapsing inward. Shion stood motionless at the center of it all, his body couldn't move an inch, eyes unfocused as debris began to rain toward him.
"Hey! What are you doing, kid?! MOVE!" the father shouted desperately.
His leg was pinned beneath rubble. He strained with everything he had, muscles screaming as he tried to free himself, but it was useless. The ceiling above Shion was already giving way.
And then—
Miss Jule moved.
Even as her consciousness faded, instinct drove her forward—not to destroy, but to protect. She lunged between Shion and the falling wreckage, her battered body curling around him as debris crashed down upon her back. Concrete shattered against her scales, crushing weight bearing down as she shielded him completely.
"I'm… sorry…" she whispered, tears slipping from her eyes, each one catching the light for just a second before falling. She had been broken by hatred, driven to madness by fear, and in that madness had hurt the only person who ever showed her kindness.
"Please… forgive me…"
Her voice trembled, fading, as the last fragments of reason fought desperately against the instinct threatening to consume what remained of her mind.
Miss Jule's tail lashed out one final time.
The blow struck Shion squarely, ripping him from her grasp and hurling him through the air. His body smashed against a distant wall outside the apartment, concrete cracking beneath the force. Pain tore through him as he slammed down, the breath knocked violently from his lungs.
"Ughk—!" He coughed, choking as dust and smoke filled his mouth. His vision swam, but when he forced his eyes open, he realized he had been thrown clear of the collapsing structure. He was alive—barely. Still, he tried to push himself up. Lying there, doing nothing, wasn't an option. Not when she was still inside.
Sirens cut through the chaos.
Firefighters and police vehicles screeched to a halt as responders flooded the area. Firefighters stared in disbelief—the flames had already been extinguished, yet the building stood on the verge of total collapse, warped and shattered as if struck by a natural disaster rather than a simple fire.
They rushed to Shion, lifting him despite his protests, dragging him to a safer distance.
"No—wait! I have to go back!" he shouted, struggling in their grip. "There's still someone in there!"
But before he could break free, a violent explosion tore through the remaining structure.
"Look at all these damages," an officer muttered, staring at the ruins in disbelief. "There's no way a normal fire could've done th-"
The wall beside him detonated outward.
Miss Jule burst through the wreckage, her form twisted by uncontrollable rage. Fear had completely severed her from reason. Instinct flooded her mind, overriding every trace of restraint. Her eyes were wild, her breathing ragged, her body trembling as if it were tearing itself apart from the inside.
"St-Stay back!" the officer screamed, scrambling away as panic overtook him. "Stay away from me, you freak!"
He fired.
The bullets struck her body and fell harmlessly to the ground.
"No… no… please…" Miss Jule whimpered, clutching her head as if trying to hold herself together. "I—I don't want to—"
Her words dissolved into a broken cry. Her emotions surged beyond control. There was nothing left to stop it now.
As she staggered forward, specialized shock rounds crackled through the air. Electricity surged across her body, forcing her to collapse as restraints activated, binding her movements and neutralizing the threat. Her scream echoed once—then fell silent.
Shion watched.
He couldn't move.
Couldn't speak.
Couldn't stop them.
"Stay down, kid!" an officer barked, pressing him back. "You're badly injured! Can't you see? That thing's a monster!"
Monster.
The word shattered something inside him.
Shion's hands clenched against the pavement as his chest burned—not from smoke, but from grief. He understood, even then, that Miss Jule had lost control. That her body had become something dangerous. Something feared.
But she was still Miss Jule.
And in that moment, he realized the cruel truth—once someone was labeled a monster, there was no place left for them among humans. No matter how kind they were, it couldn't stop what the public portrayed them.
The father and his daughter were escorted away safely, emergency responders guiding them through the smoke and debris. As they passed, the man twisted around, his face twisted with fear and anger, and shouted into the chaos, "Why was that damn monster living in our apartment?! She shouldn't be here!"
Those words cut deep.
Miss Jule had saved Shion from being crushed beneath falling rubble, had thrown herself between him and death—but none of that mattered. The father couldn't see through the smoke, couldn't understand what had truly happened. All he saw was fear. All he believed was what society had taught him. It was something to remind that Grade-D anomalies were never truly allowed to belong, no matter how human their hearts were.
Miss Jule was restrained soon after. Heavy cuffs snapped around her wrists as authorities dragged her away, charging her with destruction and endangerment. Shion tried to speak—tried to explain that the devastation had been his doing, that she had been a victim just as much as anyone else. But his words fell on deaf ears. There was no footage. No witnesses willing to believe him. Not even the father helped him.
Without evidence, his confession meant nothing.
And so the blame settled where it always did.
That night became a scar carved deep into Shion's memory—a moment that motivated the path he already chose. It was then he understood what he always wanted to fight for. Not strength for its own sake, but a future where people like Miss Jule would not be condemned simply for losing control in a world that never showed them mercy. That resolve followed him when he enrolled in the Academy of Unity.
Weeks passed.
Week after week, Shion visited Miss Jule as she underwent incarceration and rehabilitation for violent destruction and multiple injuries caused during the incident. Boraco Underground Prison was cold, silent, buried far beneath the city—a place designed to forget people like her.
Each visit, Shion was escorted through layers of security until he reached the communication room. Thick, shock-resistant glass separated them, reflecting his own tired expression back at him as much as it framed hers.
"How was your day going, Miss Jule?" he asked, pressing his palm lightly against the glass.
"It's not so bad," she replied with a faint smile. "It's very kind of you to visit me." Her eyes softened. "But I heard the news on the television. They called you a monster too. Are you alright, young man?"
"I'm perfectly fine, it's just my power gets all messed up the surroundings." Shion said gently.
"I know how reckless you are when it comes to yourself," Miss Jule said softly, her expression gentler than Shion remembered from before everything went wrong. "Make sure you take care of your health, alright?"
Shion let out a quiet laugh, the tension in his chest easing just a little. "You don't have to tell me that." A small, genuine smile curved across his face—one that reached his eyes, if only briefly.
For the remainder of the visit, they talked as they always did. Not about the fire, or the prison, or the word the world had chosen to brand them with—but about ordinary things. Small victories. Passing moments. Memories that made them laugh. Within that room, separated by reinforced glass and guarded by silence, there was warmth. For thirty minutes, they were simply two people sharing joy, pretending the world outside couldn't reach them.
Then the door slid open.
"Time's up," the guard announced, voice flat and unmoved. "Your thirty minutes are over."
Shion rose reluctantly and lifted a hand in farewell. Miss Jule returned the gesture, her smile lingering even as she was escorted away. He watched until her figure disappeared down the corridor, until the door sealed shut once more.
Only then did the quiet settle back in.