The hidden forest was far behind them now, replaced by the cold metal corridors of the facility. Yet Om could still feel the lion's uneven footsteps beside him, the faint click of claws on steel echoing in the silence.
The lion moved slowly, his sides rising and falling with each breath. His ribs showed with every step, and a faint tremor ran through his legs. Still… those golden eyes never left Om.
When they reached a quieter stretch of hallway, Om stopped. The lion halted too, gaze steady but cautious.
Om crouched, bringing himself level with him.
"Back there… when you came out of the shadows, you looked at me the same way I was looking at everyone else — wondering if anyone would choose you."
The lion tilted his head, ears flicking slightly.
Om's hand hovered, then came to rest gently on his scarred flank.
"I know what it's like to be passed over. To be called weak. To have people look right through you, like you don't matter."
His voice softened further.
"But I chose you. Not because you are strong or weak… but because I believe everyone deserves a chance. And maybe… maybe we can help each other become stronger."
The lion stepped forward until their foreheads touched. The contact was warm — not the fiery rush of a power bond, but a steady, grounding heat that seeped into Om's chest.
Om closed his eyes.
"I'm not your master. I'm your friend. And I promise you… no matter what, I won't abandon you."
For a long moment, neither moved. The only sound was the slow, steady rhythm of their breathing.
When Om finally pulled back, he smiled faintly.
At that moment, Zero's voice echoed in his mind, carrying an unusual hint of warmth.
[Master… I have a name for him.]
Om's eyes lit up.
"Yes, please."
Zero responded, his tone less mechanical than usual.
[Dawon — it means the triumph of good over evil.]
Om named him.
"From now on you will be 'Dawon'."
At the sound of his new name, the lion's gaze brightened. His eyes glistened, and he released a low, rumbling sound — not quite a growl, not quite a purr — before pressing his head against Om's shoulder.
Om wrapped both arms around the lion's neck.
"Friend… from now on, you're not alone."
Somewhere deep inside, Om felt something stir — not power, not yet, but the first spark of something that might one day burn bright enough to change both their fates.
Meanwhile, Narad's perspective of the whole scene.
Narad stood a few steps away, arms folded loosely, his eyes locked on the boy and the scarred lion before him. At first glance, it should have been a simple scene—an injured youth kneeling before a battered beast. But the air was thick with something he couldn't quite name, an undercurrent that made him hesitate to even breathe too loudly.
Om was speaking in a low, steady tone, his hand resting lightly on the matted fur between Dawon's ears. The lion's eyes, once guarded and cold, now seemed to hold a strange warmth. Every so often, Om would pause, as if letting the silence carry a message words could not. Dawon's tail twitched faintly, not in threat, but in some kind of quiet acknowledgment.
Narad's brows furrowed.
"This boy…"
He had seen countless bonding beasts and men before—most were either a tense exchange of dominance or a calculated negotiation between beast and tamer. But this… this was something else entirely. Om wasn't asserting control. He wasn't bargaining. He was simply… being. And somehow, that was enough to reach Dawon.
Narad's mind pulled in two directions at once.
The rational side was irritated, even a little angry.
He's wasting one of his five bonds on a weak beast… a lion that will never stand on equal footing with the titans in this world. A part of him wanted to interrupt, to drag Om away and remind him of the stakes. The boy didn't have the luxury to make sentimental choices—not with the challenges ahead. Dawon's scars spoke of a creature that had already lost too much, that had been broken in ways strength could never fully mend.
But the other side—the side Narad rarely let win—felt a quiet, stubborn warmth at the sight. For the first time since he'd met Om, he saw the boy's expression soften. The walls in his eyes, usually fortified by cold calculation, had lowered. Om's voice carried a tenderness Narad hadn't thought him capable of. And Dawon… Dawon leaned into that hand, despite every instinct that should have told the beast to keep its distance from humans.
Narad let out a slow breath, almost inaudible.
"So, he's chosen not with his head… but with his heart."
Om murmured something, and Dawon's gaze seemed to sharpen—not with aggression, but with understanding. It was as though they had reached a silent agreement. No grand display of power. No oaths or rituals. Just a shared recognition of pain, and perhaps… of survival.
Narad's chest tightened unexpectedly. He had seen soldiers form bonds in the trenches, warriors cling to each other in the chaos of battle—not because they were the strongest, but because they were the ones who stayed. Dawon, for all his flaws, for all his diminished strength, looked like he would stay.
And Om… Om looked like he needed someone who would.
The boy's hand lingered on the lion's fur. Dawon blinked slowly, his breath evening out, the tension in his frame easing. For a moment, they were simply two souls resting in each other's company, both carrying burdens neither spoke aloud.
Narad swallowed down his frustration. He should stop this. He should remind Om of his goal. But watching them, he knew that to interfere now would be like breaking something fragile before it had the chance to grow. Strength came in many forms—and maybe, just maybe, Om understood that better than anyone.
The lion shifted, pressing his forehead lightly against Om's shoulder. Narad's jaw clenched, partly from the pang in his chest, partly from the grudging acceptance settling in his mind. The choice was made. And whether it proved a mistake or a miracle, it was Om's to live with.
Narad turned slightly, his gaze still lingering on them.
"If Dawon falls, Om will bleed for it.
But if Dawon stands… he'll stand because of Om."
The thought was oddly comforting.
Om spoke again, voice quiet but sure, and Dawon's ear flicked in response. The boy didn't notice Narad watching—he was too absorbed, too present in this moment with his new companion. The lion, in turn, gave a low, rumbling sound—half a sigh, half a promise.
Narad let the corners of his mouth lift, just barely.
So be it, he thought. If this is the path you choose, then I'll see where it leads.
For the first time that day, Narad didn't feel like an overseer or a guide. He felt like a witness—someone standing at the edge of a story that was no longer his to shape. The boy and the lion had found each other, in spite of every reason they shouldn't have. And that, Narad realized, was worth more than any calculation.
.
.
.
.
The hum of the facility's ventilation system was the only sound in Om's room, a sterile counterpoint to the wild, earthy scent Dawon carried with him. The lion stood just inside the doorway, a massive, incongruous presence in the small, walled space. He looked around with cautious curiosity, his golden eyes taking in the unfamiliar sights: a stark bed, a small and the smooth, seamless walls that offered no shadows to hide in.
Om knelt beside him, his hand still resting on the scarred flank.
"It's alright, Dawon. It's just my room."
The lion's ears flicked, but he didn't move. The faint tremor in his legs had returned, a mixture of exhaustion and anxiety. He was a creature of open spaces, of tangled roots and whispered leaves. This enclosed, artificial world was alien to him.
[Master, the beast's heart rate is elevated. The enclosed environment is causing stress,]
Zero's voice chimed softly in Om's mind.
[I am searching for protocols on how to acclimate wild fauna to controlled habitats.]
"He's a beast, Zero, not a wild animal," Om corrected, his voice a gentle murmur meant only for Dawon. "He's different."
[Affirmative. I am updating my search parameters to include 'beast companionship' and 'interspecies bonding'.]
Om gently pushed on Dawon's shoulder, encouraging him to move further into the room.
"Come on, find a spot. Make yourself comfortable."
Dawon took a hesitant step, then another, his claws making a soft click-clack sound on the polished floor. He reached the center of the room and then, as if the unfamiliarity of the space was too much, sank to the ground with a tired groan. His head rested on his paws, but his eyes remained open, scanning every corner of the room.
Om sat down on the floor next to him, leaning against the lion's warm side.
"Zero, what are we supposed to do now? Do beasts eat normal food? Is he supposed to be this tired?"
[Searching… Preliminary results suggest that a newly bonded beast requires rest to stabilize the bond. Diet is highly specific to the beast's origin and species. I am cross-referencing Dawon's biological markers with known beast archives.]
"His biological markers?" Om asked, bewildered. "What does that even mean?"
[I have a new search query: 'how to raise a lion'. Would you like me to proceed?]
"Yes, please," Om said, and then, after a moment's thought, added, "and 'how to care for a lion with scars'."
The silence that followed was broken only by Dawon's slow, deep breaths. Om's hand drifted up to the lion's mane, running his fingers through the coarse, matted fur. It was thick and dense, but underneath, he could feel the fine layer of downy hair that softened it.
[Master, I have found some preliminary information. First, a den is crucial for a lion's sense of security. You may need to create a comfortable space that feels safe and private for him.]
Om looked around his room. There was no 'den' here. He looked down at Dawon, who had finally closed his eyes, his breathing now steady and deep. The lion had made his own den, right in the middle of Om's room, a testament to his trust.
Om smiled, a genuine, easy smile that made his face feel unfamiliar. He rested his head against Dawon's side, feeling the steady thrum of a strong, patient heart.
"I think he's already found his den, Zero," he whispered. "Right here with me."
[Acknowledged. I am continuing to compile a comprehensive care regimen for Dawon. Initial findings include a high-protein diet, regular grooming, and ample space for exercise. The emotional component of the bond is still being analyzed.]
Om simply listened to the steady rhythm of Dawon's breathing, a sound that was more comforting than any sterile, synthetic hum. They were a pair of lonely souls who had found a home in each other, and Om knew, with a certainty that settled deep in his bones, that this was the beginning of something truly great.