Riven's eyes snapped open.
No dream. No warning. Just instinct—raw and immediate—dragging him awake as if something had reached inside his chest and pulled a cord.
Midnight.
The apartment was dark, but not truly black. A strange cyan glow spilled through the blinds, bathing the room in cold, unnatural light. Outside, the city of Londville shimmered beneath a sky that looked wrong—too vivid, too sharp. The moon hung high and luminous, casting an eerie brilliance over rooftops and streets like the world had been dipped in glass.
The night had changed.
Riven sat up slowly, muscles already tight, breath steady but shallow. His eyes swept the room on reflex—windows, corners, doorways. Everything was too still.
"…Right on time,"
Every time. Midnight never missed for him.
He swung his legs over the couch and stood, the floor cool beneath his feet. The air felt heavier now, charged, like the moments before a storm breaks. Outside, the city no longer sounded alive—no distant chatter, no casual movement. Just a low, constant hum beneath everything.
His gaze lifted towards the stairs, he's wondering if Freddie is okay… or not.
Riven's eyes went dull. This was the part he hated. The waiting. The not knowing. If Freddie was going to change—if whatever lived inside him answered the night—then it would happen now, unless he turns into one of the gravestones.
He moved quietly up the stairs, each step deliberate. The cyan light leaked into the hallway, stretching long shadows across the walls. Freddie's bedroom door was slightly open, just enough to spill a faint glow onto the floor.
Riven stopped.
This was the line.
If Freddie became a gravestone like those people… he'd leave this apartment at once. Survival demanded decisions like this. Riven leaned just enough to look inside.
Freddie lay asleep, unaware. The moonlight traced the curve of his face, caught in the fur along his jaw that had started to grow in thicker lately. His chest rose and fell slowly, peacefully, as if the night meant nothing to him.
Riven still gazes at Freddie, nothing isn't really happening. But now, his assumption was wrong, Freddie didn't turn at all. He's still an anthro; that's a good sign.
Then the air shifted. Just enough for Riven to feel it in his bones. Not in the room itself—but in the space beneath it, where light failed to reach.
Freddie's shadow detached.
At first, it was barely there, a thin distortion clinging to the edge of the bed, like darkness remembering a shape. Then it thickened, rising slowly, stretching upward until it sat on the mattress behind him.
However, the body was translucent—hard to see, yet somehow fully covered.
Long, dark ears lifted, sharp and alert, cutting through the cyan glow that bled through the window. The form—Treddie—didn't breathe, didn't blink, yet it felt the room with an awareness that didn't belong to sleep.
Riven is still watching closely, and carefully. The shadow didn't turn its head.
Instead, it raised one arm—smooth, deliberate—and the air warped.
A sudden pressure snapped forward.
SLAM.
The tinted door snapped shut with a violent crack, rattling the frame and sealing the room in darkness. Riven didn't flinch one bit.
His eyes narrowed instead, pupils contracting as his body locked into readiness. The sound echoed through the apartment, sharp and unnatural, then died just as quickly—leaving behind a silence that felt manufactured. Like the world itself had been told to hold its breath.
Slowly, Riven exhaled through his nose.
"…Hmph."
He stood where he was, posture firm, shoulders squared. Whatever had done that wanted a reaction. Wanted panic. He gave it neither. His hand twitched once at his side, resisting the instinct to manifest his awaken outright. Not yet.
A subtle distortion that pressed against his chest, against his ears, like standing too close to something alive and very aware.
Riven tilted his head slightly toward the door.
"So, you're awake."
No answer, but he felt it. A presence on the other side listening to his voice. Not hostile nor passive. Just alert, even though Treddie is aware of him; he's been watching, testing him.
Riven took a single step forward. The floor didn't creak this time, as if the apartment itself knew better.
His eyes flicked to the shadow pooled beneath the door. It didn't behave like a normal shadow. It wavered faintly, edges soft, as though it hadn't fully decided on its shape yet.
"…Yeah, I thought so."
He stopped just short of the door, close enough to feel the hum in the air, close enough to know one wrong move could turn this into something ugly. Because if this thing was watching him… he wanted it to know he wasn't prey.
"…You're not going to attack,"
No response. It simply lifted one hand, slowly its faint form shimmering as if testing its own solidity. Air moved with it, subtle currents brushing the edge of the doorframe. Riven felt it—light pressure, nothing violent, nothing immediate.
And then, for the first time, Riven allowed the smallest trace of thought to cross his mind:
This thing… is not just a shadow. It's thinking.
And in that recognition, the unspoken rules of the midnight began to take hold.
Riven's voice broke the tense silence, low and deliberate.
"I have an awaken too. A shadow like you, yes?"
The words hung in the air, measured, as if daring the shadow to respond.
Treddie stiffened, senses straining. Nothing. No shift, no recognition—only the lingering pulse of midnight that had just begun to seep through the room. A lie? Treddie thought, suspicion rising. But then—a subtle tremor brushed the edges of perception.
A shadow besides Riven.
Not ordinary. Crimson, dark red, like fire contained in smoke. Its shape mirrored Riven himself—anthro, sharp, imposing—but it hovered slightly above him, taller, weightless, alive.
Treddie froze, sensing the power radiating from beyond the door. Awareness surged, understanding blooming like fire across its mind. This was… another awaken. Not merely a shadow, but an extension of Riven's being, akin to Freddie. Its presence was tangible, undeniable, impossible to ignore.
And with that understanding, Treddie eased. Slowly, deliberately, the block at the door melted away. The dark hand that had slammed the tinted door relaxed. The hum of pressure dissipated, like a tide retreating.
For a long moment, Treddie lingered in its translucent form, observing Riven and his crimson shadow. Then, almost imperceptibly, it began to fade, dissolving from view. No longer guarding, no longer testing—simply gone.
Riven's shadow followed suit, dissolving with a soft, almost imperceptible shimmer, leaving him alone in the dim glow of the room.
The room felt lighter, though the weight of midnight still pressed at the edges.
Riven exhaled, relaxed slightly, and the first cautious movement forward came. A hand reached toward the handle.
The door swung open.
The room felt awfully, yet peacefully quiet. Only the city's cyan glow spilling into the room, cutting through the darkness.
Riven stepped across the threshold, his posture alert but controlled. The night hummed around him, full of unspoken rules and unseen currents. He sees Freddie, still asleep, unaware of the exchange that had just taken place.
Riven's eyes lingered on him. And somewhere deep beneath the stoic exterior, something unspoken stirred: respect.
Freddie begins to shift in the bed. Riven's instincts told him to get out—to leave before it became awkward. He began to rise.
But before he could move, a faint whoosh of air and the sharp crack of the tinted door slamming echoed through the room. Treddie. Invisible, yet precise, had closed it instantly.
Freddie jolted awake, eyes snapping open as his heart thudded in surprise.
"What the—?!"
He sat up quickly, pulling the blankets around him in a defensive motion.
"What—what's going on—why is the door—?" His gaze darted around, confusion and sleep still clouding his thoughts.
Riven froze on the other side of the room, hands casually in his pockets, but posture tight. He didn't speak. Just observed.
Freddie's eyes swept the room, catching sight of the faint shimmer where Treddie had been moments ago. His ears twitched, instincts prickling.
"Wait…"
His voice was hesitant, unsure.
"What… what's going on?"
Riven finally let a small smirk form.
"Relax. You're not in trouble."
His voice was low, measured, carrying that rough edge that always made Freddie pause.
"Just… not used to midnight, huh?"
Freddie blinked, trying to process. The remnants of the hospital—the city, the apartment, Riven's presence—all collided in his mind.
"Midnight? What… what do you mean?"
Riven shrugged, leaning casually against the wall but still alert.
"Let's just say… some things don't play by normal rules when the clock strikes twelve."
Freddie understands now, from what he has been told before.
"Ohhh… midnight, yes. I remember now."
Riven's smirk widened slightly, though his eyes stayed serious.
"Call it… situational awareness."
The room went quiet again, the faint hum of the city outside spilling through the blinds. Freddie's gaze shifted between Riven and the door, his mind racing. Treddie's presence had blocked the door—controlled the situation—but now… it was silent.
And in that silence, Freddie realized: he wasn't entirely alone. Not tonight.
He exhaled shakily, trying to calm the jumble of thoughts.
"Alright… okay, I guess have a lot to figure out."
Riven only nodded once. Eyes still sharp, watching, waiting—but something softer lingered beneath the surface. Something that Freddie, in his bleary state, didn't quite understand yet.
"C'mon, let's go outside."
Freddie nods in response.
The scene cut outside, the cyan glow of midnight painting the streets in pale light. For some reason, Riven was barefoot. The cold concrete didn't seem to faze him; he walked with casual grace, toes gripping the pavement, heels barely touching.
Freddie blinked, tilting his head.
"You… um… left your shoes in my apartment?"
Riven waved a hand lazily, a half-smirk tugging at his lips.
"Nah, it's fine. You'll see why I don't need them."
Freddie frowned slightly, curiosity rising.
"Why not?"
Riven's crimson eyes flicked toward him, calm but sharp.
"Because I'm a wolf."
Freddie takes a deep glance. Not the joke nor metaphor. Just understanding, it made sense considering wolves are more prominent when it comes to midnight activities.
Riven gestured forward along the sidewalk, long strides eating the distance between them.
"Come on,"
Freddie adjusted his pace, matching him as best he could. The air was cool, tinged with city smells—faint smoke, damp stone, the subtle tang of night. Their footsteps echoed faintly against empty buildings, the streets unusually still for midnight.
As they walked, the glow of the main plaza began to emerge ahead. Street lamps bathed the square in soft light, and the moon hung high, bright enough to cast long, stretching shadows.
Freddie kept his hands in his pockets, ears twitching at every distant sound. Beside him, Riven moved effortlessly, barefoot and silent, like he belonged to the night itself.
The plaza grew closer. Neon signs flickered along the edges of the square, faint reflections rippling in puddles from an earlier drizzle. Midnight had fully claimed the city, and yet… the streets felt calm, almost empty, but alive in a way Freddie couldn't quite place.
Riven glanced at him briefly, eyes half-lidded.
"You notice it too, huh?"
Freddie head turns towards him.
"Yeah… the night… feels different."
Riven's lips curved just a fraction.
"That's the way it always is when the clock strikes twelve. The city changes. People… creatures… the rules. Everything shifts."
Freddie's gaze swept the plaza. Long shadows stretched across the stone tiles, shapes twisting just slightly as if aware of them, or perhaps aware of him.
Riven stopped for a moment, letting Freddie catch up.
"Keep up. You don't want to be out here alone."
Freddie steps closer. Beside Riven, in the soft glow of the plaza, he felt a strange combination of unease and curiosity. This was no ordinary walk. The midnight was alive, and so were they.
Riven stopped in the middle of the plaza, the neon lights flickering faintly above them. He turned slowly, eyes sharp, scanning Freddie as though weighing him. The faint hum of the city at midnight seemed to fade behind Riven's presence, leaving only the two of them in a bubble of stillness.
"You… know how to handle it, right?"
Riven asked, voice low and steady, but carrying that edge of challenge.
"Your… power. That thing you have. Do you even understand it?"
Freddie hesitated, trying to gather the words, his mind flipping through everything Treddie had shown—or told—him.
"I… I think I do? Sort of. I mean, it's not exactly like… I can control it fully yet."
Riven's lips pressed into a thin line.
"Sort of isn't good enough. You're dealing with forces you don't even fully see. And if you can't control it…"
He let the words hang, unspoken but implied.
"…you'll get yourself hurt. Or worse."
Freddie swallowed, shoulders tensing.
"I know. I've been practicing. Treddie… he's been showing me things, teaching me how to sense it, how to manage it."
Riven tilted his head, scrutinizing him.
"Treddie? You named it? Why, it's not even a pet."
His voice was gruff, though there was no bite. He shook his head and moved on.
"Anyways, I can tell you're linked. But here's the thing—you won't always have someone watching over you. You'll need to move, react… think fast. Do you understand that?"
Freddie nodded slowly, cheeks warming under the scrutiny.
"I… I get it. I'll try. I really will."
His voice was soft, almost shy.
"I don't want to… mess this up."
Riven's gaze softened just slightly, but only just.
"…Good. I don't say this lightly. If you slip, even a little, I'll help but you won't get a second chance."
Freddie's stomach twisted with the weight of it. He wanted to nod again, to show he understood, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he simply tightened his fists at his sides, letting Riven see the determination in his posture, if not in his voice.
Riven studied him for a long moment, the silence stretching between them. Then, with a faint exhale, he finally spoke, his tone quieter now.
"Alright… let's see what you've got. Don't embarrass yourself… or me."
Freddie let out a small, nervous laugh, almost a release.
"I won't."
Riven smirked faintly, the faintest trace of amusement breaking through the tension.
"We'll see about that, bub. We'll see."
The plaza around them remained calm, eerily so, but the faint flicker of shadows at the edges of the square reminded them both—the night had its own rules.
Riven moved ahead, long strides eating the distance between them. His posture was alert, every step measured, as if the shadows themselves were listening. Freddie followed behind, tail flicking nervously, ears perked at every subtle sound.
The plaza stretched out ahead, but a figure blocked their path. Tall, shifting—its form wavered unnaturally, the faint outline of limbs constantly twisting like smoke. Its eyes glowed faintly in the cyan light.
An Umbrin.
Riven's eyes narrowed, muscles coiling like spring steel.
"…Here's our problem,"
He muttered, voice low but cutting through the night. His gaze flicked back at Freddie.
"You're up for this? It's not much, but it's… a test. Two-on-one, should be easy enough. Stay sharp and don't overdo it."
Freddie's ears twitched, nervous but attentive.
"…Got it."
He took a small step closer, hands flexing slightly, ready—but careful.
The Umbrin shifted its weight, letting out a low, distorted hum. Its presence was heavy, unnatural, the kind of weight that pressed into the chest and made breath shallow. Even in its weaker form, it radiated danger.
Riven glanced at Freddie one last time, expression stern but calm.
"…Watch my moves. I'll lead. Just… don't freeze."
Freddie nodded, biting his lip slightly.
"…Okay."
The two of them faced the Umbrin together, the plaza around them still and silent, the cyan glow casting long, jagged shadows across the ground. Midnight hung above them like a challenge—and a fight—a REAL fight.
Riven and Freddie stood together side-by-side in the center of the plaza, the cyan glow of the midnight sky reflecting off the pavement. The Umbrin hovered, its form flickering unnaturally, like smoke struggling to hold shape.
For a heartbeat, nothing moved.
Riven's sharp eyes never left the creature, and Freddie could feel the pulse of energy humming faintly in the air, as if the night itself were holding its breath. The plaza seemed to stretch, time slowing. Even the distant hum of the city faded, leaving only the weight of the moment.
Riven shifted slightly, letting his claws scrape softly against the ground, a signal Freddie felt in his chest.
The Umbrin's form rippled, edges trembling as if it, too, understood the pause before the storm. Its glowing eyes fixed on them, piercing and unblinking.
Then—
It lunged.
Riven moved instinctively, stepping forward with precision, claws ready. Freddie followed, energy coiling in his paws, every muscle alert. The first strike had begun.
The plaza shook under the Umbrin's assault, its limbs whipping and contorting unnaturally as Riven darted around it with calculated precision. Sparks of cyan light reflected off its form, shadows twisting along the ground.
Freddie's energy flared, but he misjudged a strike. The Umbrin's tendril swept forward, slamming him into the pavement. Pain shot through his body as he skidded across the plaza, tail curling instinctively to break his fall. He groaned, trying to push himself up—but his paws felt heavy, unresponsive.
Riven's eyes snapped to him.
"…Freddie!"
He quickly faced towards the Umbrin—growling, launching a swift strike at the Umbrin to keep it distracted. His claws tore through the creature's shadowy side, making it recoil. He didn't waste a moment—rushing to help Freddie back onto his feet.
But before he could reach him fully, a massive strike slammed into Riven's side. Pain exploded across his ribs, knocking the wind from him. His claws dug into the ground, but it wasn't enough. The Umbrin's massive, twisted hand wrapped around him, lifting and pinning him against the plaza's pavement with bone-crushing force.
Riven struggled, gritting his teeth. His breaths came short and sharp. Every instinct screamed to fight, claw, escape—but the Umbrin's grip was unyielding. A terrifying sense of mortality pressed down on him.
Freddie watched—heart hammering. Adrenaline surged through him. He couldn't—wouldn't—let Riven die.
Pain tore through him as something deep inside ignited. His body shuddered violently, joints and muscles reforming, fur blending with mechanical plating. Lights flickered beneath his skin, and his ears twitched unnaturally as a faint hum echoed from his chest.
"R-Revenge…"
He groaned, though the word was barely audible through the mechanical groan of his body restructuring. Blood—his blood—spilled along the pavement, glinting red against the neon glow as gears and plating snapped into place.
Riven's eyes widened, witnessing the transformation.
"What… the fu—"
Freddie's form shifted, animatronic and imposing, every line of his body radiating energy and strength. The Umbrin froze, its glowing eyes widening as it processed this sudden escalation.
Pain shot through Freddie's limbs, but his body was no longer trembling—no longer weak. He clenched his mechanical fists, wishing he had a weapon. Almost instantly, a strange holographic cube of shifting pixels materialized by his side, hovering with a soft hum.
He gripped it, feeling it solidify under his hand. The code spiraled, coalescing, until it formed a sleek, sharp weapon—a standard combat blade, humming with energy.
Freddie raised it, every fiber of his newly awakened body radiating power. His yellow eyes glinted, mechanical plating flexing with readiness.
The Umbrin hissed, tendrils whipping, but it was too slow. Freddie stepped forward, the hum of his weapon cutting through the silent tension of the plaza. His movements were precise, fluid, deadly—a perfect blend of his own instincts and the mechanical power coursing through him.
The first strike launched with brutal force, the energy blade slicing through the air toward the Umbrin. Sparks of shadow and light collided, and the battle escalated anew—but now, Freddie was no longer just a participant. He was a force of reckoning.
The plaza was torn apart by the clash—fractured pavement, shadow residue staining the ground, the Umbrin's form unraveling with every coordinated strike. Freddie moved with mechanical precision now, each swing of his weapon forcing the creature back, its massive body flickering and destabilizing.
It was weakening. Badly.
Riven could see it. He could feel it.
But then—
A sudden backlash of shadow erupted outward. Freddie didn't have time to brace. The force slammed into him, hurling his mechanical body across the plaza. Metal scraped hard against stone as he hit the ground and slid to a stop.
His weapon skidded away.
Freddie tried to push himself up. His limbs stuttered. Power surged—and faltered. A sharp groan tore from his throat as dark blood spills out. His systems strained, sparks flickering faintly along his plating.
He needed help. Riven stood still.
His breath caught, chest rising and falling as he stared at Freddie's fallen form. The Umbrin staggered too, barely holding together now—but still dangerous. Still alive.
This was the moment.
He could leave.
Instinct screamed at him—survive. He had what he needed. The fight had proven enough. Staying meant risk. Staying meant attachment. Staying meant consequences.
It was hard for him to see Freddie hurt, at the same time, he felt that urge of selfishness. Maybe it was best to leave him behind.
His body shifted, weight turning—just slightly.
Then—
Something pulled.
Not physically. Deeper than that.
Riven's shadow stretched unnaturally at his feet, thickening, darkening—refusing to follow his movement. It pressed against the ground like an anchor, heavy and unyielding.
Riven's eyes widened just a fraction.
"…What the hell—"
His shadow did not obey.
It held him there.
"Where do you think you're going, 'bub'?"
The voice didn't come from behind him.
It came from below.
Riven snarled, glancing down as his shadow twisted, stretching up the concrete like a living thing. Its edges burned crimson, pulsing faintly, mocking him.
"Tch—don't start, this isn't your call."
His shadow chuckled, low and sharp.
"Heh. Look at you. Shaking… running away… no spine."
Riven's jaw clenched. His claws dug into his palms. He wanted to move—his body screamed to—but his shadow held firm, heavy as iron.
"Showing… cowardice."
Riven swore under his breath.
"You think this is fear? This is survival, you want us both to go down don't ya?"
The shadow leaned closer, its form rising, looming beside him.
"Then why does your chest hurt?"
Riven didn't answer.
The shadow's tone dropped, cutting deeper.
"Why leave others behind? You know he saved you back there."
Riven's eyes flicked back to Freddie—collapsed, sparking, struggling to rise while the Umbrin regrouped.
His teeth ground together, cringing at its statement.
"…Shut up,"
But the shadow didn't relent.
"You felt it. The moment he moved. The moment he chose you."
The plaza seemed to close in, the Umbrin's distorted breathing filling the silence. Riven stood frozen between instinct and something far more dangerous…
…is by making a choice.
Riven took a step back.
Then another.
His muscles screamed to run, every instinct honed by blood and survival pulling him away from the wreckage behind him. Away from Freddie. Away from the choice.
But his shadow didn't move.
It thickened instead—darkness pooling, rising up his legs like tar.
"…No, I already awakened. I did my time. What is this feeling… it's—"
The shadow interrupted with a laugh, not mocking.
Just disappointed.
"Did you?"
Time began to pause as everything stops, leaving Freddie, the Umbrin, and everything around Riven.
A sharp pain bloomed in his spine—white-hot, sudden. He staggered, catching himself on a streetlight as the world lurched sideways. His vision blurred, streaked with red.
His shadow pressed closer, wrapping around him like a second skin.
"Remember? You protected your loved before, yet you let go of them."
Riven's claws trembled. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, each pulse wrong, too heavy, too slow—then too fast.
"I had to, that's enough."
The ground beneath him buckled.
Pain tore through his body in waves, bone grinding, muscles tightening as if being rewired from the inside out. He dropped to one knee, a strangled breath ripping from his chest.
"No, it's time… for change, endure his pain."
It circled him, crimson light bleeding through its form now, syncing with the violent rhythm of his pulse.
"You hid inside the shell they gave you. You learned how to fight, how to kill, how to walk away."
Riven gasped as something shifted in his chest—pressure building, compressing, then snapping loose. His breath came out ragged, fogging the air.
"But awakening?"
the shadow continued.
"That means choosing."
His vision fractured.
For a moment, he saw everything—Freddie falling, blood and pixels, a hand reaching out. Himself turning away. Over and over. Every version where he lived.
And every one where someone else didn't.
His body arched as crimson veins of light flared beneath his fur, tracing patterns that hadn't existed before. The shadow surged upward, looming over him, its voice steady, merciless.
"You're not changing because you're brave."
The pain peaked—blinding, all-consuming.
"You're changing because you're lying to yourself."
Riven collapsed forward, hands slamming into the pavement as the last of his resistance shattered. The shadow leaned down, almost gentle now.
"And denial, is the most fertile ground there is."
The light flared.
Then—something inside Riven finally broke open.
Riven's scream cracked. Loud… and raw. Ripped straight from his chest as his body convulsed forward, something inside him forcing its way out. Blood spilled. Not spraying—seeping, then running in thick, dark lines through his fur as seams tore open along his arms and ribs. The wounds didn't look like gashes from an attack. They looked… intentional. Like his body was splitting itself apart to make room.
"This is the part you always ran from. The part where it costs something."
Riven's vision tunneled. His heart slammed once—twice—then locked into a deep, mechanical rhythm that echoed through his whole frame.
Thump.
Thump.
The final change hit like a hammer.
His body arched violently as a surge tore through him, blood bursting fresh from the seams—
—and then—
FLASH.
A crimson aura detonated outward from Riven's core in a sharp, circular wave.
The air exploded. Time has now unpaused.
The Umbrin was thrown back mid-stride, massive body skidding across the plaza in a spray of debris, claws carving trenches into the ground as it was forcibly pushed away.
Freddie, still down, felt the shockwave roll over him—hard enough to steal the air from his lungs, but controlled. Directed. Like it had chosen not to hurt him.
Silence slammed down after.
Riven stood there, blood dripping steadily from his arms, his chest rising slow and controlled. The glow beneath his skin stabilized, dimming into something constant—contained.
The shadow stepped close, voice lowering.
"You were never weak,"
"You just never understood yourself."
It leaned in, almost gentle now.
"Lean into it."
Riven's fists tightened, metal-sure and unwavering. His body bulked, tail curled, eyes sharped—ready to fight in his new body.
"…Accept yourself."
The shadow dissolved into him.
And somewhere behind him, Freddie lifted his head—eyes wide—finally seeing Riven not as he was…
…but as he chose to be.
Riven didn't think.
He moved.
The ground shattered beneath his feet as he launched forward, blood still dripping from his arms as if it didn't belong to him anymore. The Umbrin barely had time to reorient before Riven was already there—close, too close.
The idea came first.
Then the weight.
Brass knuckles snapped into form around his hands, raw and brutal—thick metal bands etched with jagged ridges, not sharpened blades but something worse. Something meant to break bone through force alone.
He swung.
The first punch caved into the Umbrin's torso with a thunderous crack, the impact rippling through its mass like a shockwave. Shadowy flesh folded inward, distorted, before rebounding violently.
Riven didn't stop.
Left. Right. A rising hook that snapped the creature's head back, followed by a crushing downward blow that drove it to one knee. Each hit landed heavier than the last, the sound less like flesh and more like metal slamming into wet stone.
The Umbrin roared.
Riven roared back.
He drove forward, fists a blur, brass knuckles glowing faintly crimson as he pummeled the creature without mercy—no technique, no restraint. Just survival. Just resolve.
A massive claw swung toward him.
Riven ducked, stepped into it, and drove his knuckles straight through the Umbrin's arm. Shadow burst outward like smoke caught in a gale as the limb collapsed in on itself.
The creature staggered.
Riven planted his feet.
"One more,"
He twisted his torso and unleashed everything he had left—one final punch straight into the Umbrin's core.
The impact detonated.
A deep, concussive boom echoed across the plaza as the Umbrin's form fractured from the inside out, its shadow unraveling violently before collapsing into nothing—dissolving into ash-like wisps that were torn apart by the night air.
Silence fell.
Riven stood there, chest heaving, knuckles dripping with dark residue that evaporated as it hit the ground.
Then he remembered.
"—Freddie."
He spun, eyes scanning wildly until he spotted him crumpled nearby. Without a second thought, Riven sprinted over and dropped to one knee beside him, hands firm but careful as he helped pull Freddie upright.
"Hey—hey, I got you. You're good. You're alive."
Freddie groaned softly, barely managing to focus, but he was breathing. That was enough.
Riven gazed into Freddie's eyes, holding him close, trying to help him out. His eyes softened with a dim, clearing a sigh.
"…I'm sorry,"
Riven looked away for a moment, his face felt bloated with embarrassment,
"I hesitated. I thought about running. I was scared. Didn't wanna be weak."
He looked back at Freddie, eyes steady now.
"But I'm done with that."
He adjusted Freddie's arm over his shoulder, lifting him more securely.
"You saved me. I wasn't gonna leave you behind."
The crimson glow around Riven faded to a calm, steady hum as the sky still glows.
Freddie coughed a dark, inky blood splattered against the pavement, already thinning as it hit the ground. His body shook as he tried to steady his breathing. When he finally looked up, his eyes met Riven's.
He couldn't get the words out. His throat burned, chest tight, voice gone.
So instead… he nodded.
Once. Slow. Deliberate.
Thank you.
Riven caught it immediately.
He looked away, ears flicking back as a faint heat crept into his face.
"Tch… don't get weird about it, anyone would've done the same."
They wouldn't have; he knew that they wouldn't, only him.
Riven adjusted his grip and helped Freddie fully to his feet, keeping an arm steady at his side in case his legs gave out—
—and then Freddie stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him.
Riven froze completely.
His eyes widened a fraction, body stiff as a board like his instincts had slammed into a wall. This wasn't something he was prepared for. There was no script for this.
"…What are you—"
He stopped.
Freddie was trembling. Not from fear—exhaustion. Relief. The kind that only comes after thinking you're about to die.
Riven exhaled slowly.
Then, awkwardly, he lifted one arm… then the other… and returned the hug. It felt warm beneath the embrace, Riven never had a hug from anyone—but Freddie.
For a moment, it was starting feel good. He buried his face against Freddie's shoulder, eyes shutting as his body finally let go of the tension it had been holding since the fight began.
When he pulled back, he didn't fully let go—his hand lingered on Freddie's arm, grounding him.
"…Don't do that again, scarin' the hell outta me."
Freddie gave a weak, breathy huff—half a laugh.
Riven's gaze drifted onto himself.
Metal plating traced over fur and muscle, joints segmented with exposed mechanics beneath, eyes faintly glowing with that familiar cyan hue. He felt big even though he's still the same height as Freddie. Besides all of that, he just feels… different.
Riven glanced down at his own hands, flexed his fingers once, then snorted.
"Heh, guess I'm some kinda mechanical man now. Animatronic, I've heard. I look like a hot robot."
He looked back at Freddie, eyes sharp but oddly lighter than before.
"…Could be worse."
The night air settled around them, cool and quiet, the aftermath finally catching up. Whatever midnight had made of them—whatever it would make of them in the future—stood there now, breathing, standing, alive.
In the distance, far above the ruined street, a lone figure stood atop a tall building, watching.
Only their shoes were visible at the edge of the rooftop—still, deliberate, unmoving as they stared down at the aftermath below both Riven and Freddie. The echoes of the fight still lingering in the air.
A quiet chuckle slipped out, barely carried by the wind.
"This will get interesting…"
A pause.
"…guys and gals."
The figure stepped back from the ledge, vanishing into the darkness—others did the same, following behind.