The simulation room was a high tech facility straight out of a sci-fi movie. It stretched as far as the eye could see, with its ceiling domed to mimic a natural sky. Humidity hung thick in the air, clinging to Felix’s skin and dampening his silver-white hair as he surveyed the dense forest environment. Every detail was crafted to immerse trainees in a brutal survival scenario—from the uneven ground riddled with roots and jagged rocks to the rustle of simulated wildlife that made it hard to distinguish real threats from environmental noise. The air, too, smelled realistically of damp moss and wood, heavy with the illusion of an actual rainforest. 

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Trainees stood just on the edge of the simulated rainforest, waiting for their “mission” to begin. Felix shifted on his feet, eyeing the dense foliage ahead with a mix of excitement and unease. This was like playing airsoft but definitely more high tech and professional. There was also a conspicuous lack of guns since Regal Ones are weapons themselves.

“Your goal,” Sergeant Flintstone glared sternly at the recruits before him, “is to track and neutralize a simulated Corrupted. It may only be a B-Rank to some of you,” at this he shot pointed looks at Jax and Felix, “but don’t get cocky. Spread out, track it, and engage only if necessary. You’re being graded on not only physical endurance but also quick thinking and mastery of your partial transformations, so don’t screw it up.”

Felix found himself partnered with Ella, though the recruits had been ordered to split up to cover more ground. The bubbly Regal One bounced on her heels with excitement. “This’ll be fun, right?” she announced, brightly.

Across the way, Jax paired with Theo, both exchanging confident smirks.

The buzzer sounded, and the simulation began. Ella made that fighting gesture again before darting off into the underbrush, her movements light and precise. Felix hesitated before heading in his own direction—or what he thought was his direction.

Not even ten minutes into the simulation, Felix realized something was wrong. The towering trees all looked the same, and he swore he’d passed that moss-covered boulder before. He glanced at his compass, but the directions meant little to him as he tried to figure out which way was north.

In the observation room, Sergeant Flintstone furrowed thick slashing brows so tightly they could squeeze a fly as he watched Felix’s avatar spinning in circles on the map. “Bloodstone,” his voice growled through Felix’s earpiece, “what are you doing?”

Felix froze mid-step. “Uh… exploring?” he offered weakly.

“Exploring?” Flintstone raised his voice. “You’re supposed to be tracking the Corrupted, not taking a scenic tour!”

Felix winced, adjusting the earpiece instinctively. “I, uh… might have a little problem with directions. Never been great at knowing north from south… or east from west. They all kind of blur together.”

The silence that followed was broken by a loud laugh over the earpieces. Jax’s voice crackled through, dripping with mirth. “Are you serious, Bloodstone? You can’t tell left from right? How do you even get up in the morning?”

Theo joined in, his laughter just as uproarious. “The perfect Felix Bloodstone, the darling of our teachers, flawless in everything—except finding his way out of a paper bag apparently.”

Ella’s voice chimed in, trying to defend Felix. “It’s not a big deal! Direction sense isn’t everything—”

Jax cut her off, his tone gleeful. “Oh, it’s definitely a big deal. What’s he gonna do if we’re in real combat? Ask the Corrupted for directions?”

Despite the heckling, Felix pressed on, muttering under his breath as he tried to regain some semblance of focus. His embarrassment burned hot, but he refused to let Jax and Theo’s heckling get to him.

“It’s nothing really,” he cleared his throat, forcing himself to sound aloof and unruffled. “I always manage to find my way, eventually—”

His words trailed off as a strange mix of teeth chattering and a high squeaking sound sent a chill down his spine. He turned toward the source, his claws instinctively elongating. The underbrush rustled, and a grotesque creature emerged. Its vaguely rodent body was much larger than any ordinary rodent and was covered in slimy, pinkish flesh, with writhing tentacles sprouting from its back. Its glowing, pupil-less eyes locked onto Felix, and it let out a shrill cry that seemed to rattle the forest.

“Shit, found it!” Felix blurted into his earpiece, his voice rising and definitely losing the bit of composure he managed to gather earlier.

“WHAT?” Flintstone’s voice growled.

“The Corrupted! It’s right in front of me!” Felix exclaimed, already dodging a swipe from the disgusting looking rat-thing’s elongated claws.

“Hold position!” Flintstone ordered, though his voice was nearly drowned out by Jax and Theo’s indignant demands.

“You’re kidding me,” Jax said. “He actually found it by accident.” Even as he complained, heavy breathing could be heard from his end as the other clearly picked up his pace through the forest.

The Corrupted lunged, and Felix’s body reacted on instinct. He leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding a tentacle that slammed into the ground where he’d been standing. His claws slashed out, raking across one of its limbs, but the creature barely flinched.

Felix backpedaled, his tail flicking to keep him balanced as he tried to recall anything useful from their combat lectures. The Corrupted shrieked again, an awful nails on glass kind of squeaking, its tentacles whipping toward him in a flurry of attacks. He managed to dodge most of them, though one struck his shoulder, sending him stumbling back.

Despite the pain, which, what the hell—why was it so realistic?!—Felix gritted his teeth and pressed forward. His claws glinted as they partially transformed into longer, diamond-tipped weapons, silver fur like iridescent pine needles covering his hands and up along his forearms. He struck out, aiming for the creature’s glowing eyes. His attack landed, earning a shriek of rage from the Corrupted.

“That’s it, Bloodstone!” Flintstone’s voice encouraged. “Keep it distracted until backup arrives!”

“Backup would be great right about now!” Felix shot back, narrowly avoiding another swipe.

The sound of rustling leaves signaled Ella’s arrival. She burst into the clearing, her claws gleaming and her expression uncharacteristically fierce. “Hang in there, Felix!” she shouted, immediately darting toward the Corrupted.

Not a second later, Jax and Theo appeared, their expressions ranging from amused to annoyed.

“Looks like you managed to survive,” Jax snarked, as he assessed the situation, his brows furrowing at the disgusting rat monster that was their target.

“Sorry to disappoint!” Felix shouted with some ire, dodging another attack. “Are you just going to stand there or what?!”

The four trainees launched into coordinated action. Jax moved with precision, targeting the creature’s joints with rapid strikes. Ella circled the Corrupted like a nimble matador provoking a bull, her movements calculated as she looked for an opening. Theo relied on brute force as always, his claws digging into tentacles and actually tearing them like taffy with sheer power.

Felix, though a bit winded from the adrenaline rush, continued to hold his ground, getting his own hits in every now and then. His claws deflected attacks, his tail acting as a counterbalance to keep him stable.

At one point, Jax took advantage of the Corrupted being distracted with Theo grabbing and tugging its tentacles to leap onto the Corrupted’s back. His claws instantly sank into the flesh of its neck, and with a triumphant yowl, his elongated blue claws that bore a striking similarity to certain gardening tools, severed its head from its body. The B-Rank Corrupted dissolved into pixels, marking the end of the simulation.

The trainees stood panting, their bodies still feeling the echoes of the strain and bruise-pain, but victorious.

“Well, that was fun,” Jax said, his smirk returning. “I think the tally’s to me this time, Bloodstone.”

Felix rolled his eyes, as if anyone but this persistent self-proclaimed rival of his was counting. Ella seemed to agree as she looked ready to refute that claim on his behalf.

But as the room reset to its default state, Theo suddenly addressed Felix. “Seriously, how did you manage to find the Corrupted before us?”

Felix sighed, and smiled wryly. “Pure dumb luck actually.” It seemed his little “affliction” was now known to everyone.

The watching trainees erupted into laughter, while Sergeant Flintstone rubbed his temples.

“Alright. You all, that was good teamwork towards the end there. Pearlman, good job on fighting smart though you still need some work with your strikes. Onyxwood, still in need of improvement on your power fine tuning; keep working on that. Flintcroft, efficient as always if a bit reckless. That was only a simulated Corrupted, a real one will hardly let you get the drop on it so easily. Bloodstone…”

Felix braced himself for a critique.

“You’ve got potential, but that sense of direction? Fix it. As you said, that was pure dumb luck.”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

The comment earned another round of chuckles from the trainees, but Felix merely nodded. Despite the criticism, he still felt a small sense of accomplishment. This was his first time facing the monsters of this world—a fake imitation, sure, but it seemed real enough—and he didn’t faint or puke his guts out even when he wanted to!

(No one would ever know that his hands, now human and declawed, were actually trembling imperceptibly in his trouser pockets as the adrenaline dropped.)

The locker room was quiet, the echoes of the day’s training lingering like a charged undercurrent in the air. Felix trudged in, his muscles aching and his uniform clinging to him uncomfortably from sweat and exertion. He glanced around, hoping for a moment of solitude to collect his thoughts, but his hopes were dashed the moment he spotted Jax leaning casually against a locker.

“Bloodstone,” Jax greeted, his tone light but laced with challenge.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Felix sighed inwardly, already bracing for whatever was coming. “Flintcroft,” he replied, his voice steady but guarded.

Jax pushed off the locker and crossed his arms, his cocky swagger back in full force now that they were no longer in sight of Sergeant Flintstone. “Not bad for your first day. You’ve got some moves, I’ll give you that. But don’t think for a second you’ve got what it takes to beat me.”

Felix raised an eyebrow, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “Didn’t I already hold my own against you—twice now?”

From the corner of the room, Theo Onyxwood snorted in reluctant amusement, but he still loyally sided with Jax. “A tie isn’t a win, Bloodstone. Don’t get cocky.”

Jax stepped closer, his yellow eyes gleaming with competitive fire. “This isn’t school anymore. You’re in the real world now. And out here, I don’t plan to lose.”

Felix met his gaze unflinchingly. “Isn’t there a saying, even the best laid plans go to waste?”

The tension between them hung heavy, neither willing to back down. Jax finally gave a short laugh and tilted his head curiously, popping the tension like a needle to a balloon. “You’re a bit different than I imagined.”

Felix’s heart jumped, but his expression remained impassive. “Different?”

“Yeah. I thought you would be a boring ice block.” Jax gave him a once over with those perceptive yellow eyes. “So full of yourself, you don’t bother to see anyone else. But I guess that’s not the case.”

Felix furrowed his brows.

But Jax only turned toward the exit. “Keep up, Bloodstone. You’ll need to if you want to win. I’m looking forward to a week of free lunch.”

Theo followed him, throwing an indecipherable look at Felix as he left. Once they were gone, Felix allowed himself a moment to exhale. His fists, he realized, had been clenched tightly.

Who would’ve thought that instead of making friends he ended up making rivals first?

*

The walk home was a blur of aching limbs and swirling thoughts, but the moment Felix opened the door, the energy in the room enveloped him like a beanbag chair.

“Master’s home!” Virgil declared dramatically, bounding toward Felix with exaggerated glee. “So, did you win? Did you crush the competition? Or are those bruises the new combat chic?”

Felix rolled his eyes, too tired to engage with Virgil’s theatrics.

Sorath followed behind, more subdued but no less observant. He eyed Felix’s disheveled state and winked. “Guess the first day of work as a newbie was tough. Here,” he added, tossing an ice pack toward Felix, “you’ll need this.”

Thel appeared next, a steaming cup of tea in hand. “Rough day?” he asked, his tone unsympathetic but his eyes betraying his feelings. Sharp eyes flickered over Felix’s face, obsessively cataloging his expressions and mood. “You should consider reviewing some combat strategy books with me later. It might help.”

Before Felix could respond, Albrecht bustled into the room, his expression one of determined purpose. In his hands was a spa-level grooming kit that gleamed under the light.

“This simply won’t do,” Albrecht declared, gesturing at Felix’s rumpled appearance. “As expected, you look in need of some rejuvenation. And what better way than an at home grooming treatment? Sit, my dear.”

Felix blinked, too weary to protest as Albrecht guided him to the couch.

“You can’t be serious,” Felix muttered, but the faint hint of amusement in his tone betrayed his acceptance.

“I’m always serious,” Albrecht replied primly, already unpacking the kit with precision. “And I’ll have you know, I always got the highest marks in my masseuse and grooming 101 classes.”

“Is that really what they teach you in those finishing schools—”

“Yes, of course,” Albrecht interrupted, clearly clueing in on Felix’s delaying tactics. His voice was firm, heading off any argument. “Now trust me.”

Felix, still smiling incredulously, allowed himself to transform into his albino cat form, a rare sight that left his pets momentarily stunned despite having seen it before.

But could they blame him? If not for all the embarrassing cooing and starry eyes being directed at him in this form, he might have considered lounging around more often as a housecat. It was the most natural and comfortable form for Regal Ones after all.

As Albrecht composed himself and began to meticulously groom him, Felix let his mind drift back to the day’s events. Jax’s cocky but perceptive words, Theo’s indecipherable look, Sergeant Flintstone’s critique, and even Ella’s starstruck fondness—all of it played on a loop in his head.

Thel sat nearby, quietly flipping through a book on combat techniques. Sorath reclined on the couch, occasionally glancing at Felix, while Virgil perched on the armrest, watching the grooming session with thinly veiled interest.

At some point, Felix had migrated from the couch cushions to Albrecht’s silk-clad lap. The fancy cologne Albrecht used also seemed to have a relaxing effect as well. So even though restless thoughts plagued him, Felix found himself having to catch his purrs before they could escape him.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you sneaking in petting while you groomed me,” Felix mumbled, his voice muffled as he rested his chin on his paws.

Albrecht didn’t even flinch, his movements precise and unbothered. “It’s part of the process,” he replied smoothly. “Grooming and a full body massage is encouraged to go hand in hand.”

Virgil snickered. “In the wise words of a certain peacock, serving the needs of one’s master is the job of a good pet. Besides, we rarely get the chance to see you in this form.”

Felix groaned, which sounded more like a rumble in his small furry chest.

Albrecht, surprisingly, did not snipe back at Virgil in that juvenile way of theirs. But judging by the look of rapture on his handsome face, Felix had doubts if he had even heard the insult at all.

As the grooming session wound down, Felix finally hopped off Albrecht’s lap much to the reluctance of the other, and transformed back into his humanoid form, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders in complete relaxation. He grabbed the cup of tea Thel had brought him earlier, now lukewarm, and took a sip. His pets gathered around expectantly, their expressions varying from curious to downright nosy.

“Alright, spill it,” Virgil said, leaning forward with wide, shiny eyes. “What happened today? Did you fight that blue-haired what’s-his-name? Did you win?”

Felix laughed lightly, only a little self-deprecating. He leaned back on the couch. “First day of training, right? So we got paired up for sparring matches. And guess who I ended up with?”

“Flintcroft,” Thel guessed immediately, unsurprised, especially with how obsessed the other was with challenging Felix.

Felix nodded. “Jax Flintcroft. The loud and cocky blue Regal One who clearly wants to prove something.”

Sorath smirked. “Sounds insufferable.”

“Annoying, definitely,” Felix agreed, taking another sip of tea. “He’s got skill, I’ll give him that, but he’s so obsessed with beating me, it’s almost infecting me now. I think he’s still mad about that tie we had back at the Ivory Sanctuary.”

Albrecht sniffed disdainfully. “How petty. Clearly, he knows his place is beneath you but refuses to accept it.”

Felix shot him a wry look. “Well, I wouldn’t put it that way.” Felix couldn’t help recalling the surprisingly insightful comment Jax made about how “different” he was from his original image of him. “But one thing’s for sure, he’s determined to turn that tie into a win.”

Virgil leaned back, arms behind his head. “Sounds like you’ve got yourself a rival. Or, y’know, an overly competitive admirer.”

“Rival,” Felix corrected firmly, though the corner of his mouth twitched. Cocky Jax Flintcroft, an admirer? He shuddered. “And then there’s Theo Onyxwood. For now, I only get the impression that he’s Jax’s shadow, always backing him up. Not as talkative, but just as irritating.”

“Another rival?” Sorath asked, raising an eyebrow.

“More like a sidekick?” Felix replied with a questioning lilt. “Anyway, he’s skilled too. Watching him fight was… intense.” Definitely a brute force, powerhouse type. Felix wouldn’t admit to it, but he was a bit envious. No matter what Ella says, he wants to be as intimidating as Theo looked while fighting.

Thel inclined his head slightly. “So, two opponents with strong personalities and skills to match. You’ll need to be careful not to let their provocation distract you from improving.”

Felix nodded, agreeing with Thel’s pragmatic advice. “I’ll keep that in mind. But it’s not all bad. There’s Ella Pearlman.”

“Oh?” For some reason, everyone looked up at this clearly feminine name. Never mind the fact that Regal Ones were basically aro-ace and their young aren’t born the traditional way.

Felix, oblivious to his pets’ sharpened interest, facepalmed. “Yeah, her. She’s pleasant enough, but the squealing every time I do anything remotely decent is a bit embarrassing.”

Albrecht frowned slightly. “She should learn decorum. Excessive admiration is unbecoming.”

“She’s not that bad,” Felix side-eyed the pot calling the kettle black and said with a shrug. “She’s actually really smart and a great fighter. I watched her spar with Theo today—she won, barely, but she earned it. She’s bubbly, sure, but she’s clearly a smart fighter.”

Virgil yawned. “Hmm. Well, good for her.”

Thel nodded expressionlessly. “It’s good to make allies early, even if their enthusiasm is overwhelming at times. Once you join the ranks, such connections made during trainee days might prove useful in the future. Especially if, as you say, she is smart and skilled.”

Felix shifted slightly forward, placing the empty teacup on the coffee table. “Yeah, I get that. And I appreciate her support, but I don’t know how much of it is genuine respect and how much is just… idolizing an image of me. It’s hard to tell.”

“Does it matter?” Sorath asked with a devil-may-care smirk. “Take the admiration and run with it. Better to have people on your side than against you.”

“True,” Felix admitted. “But I can’t rely on anyone else to get through this. I have to focus, train harder, and make sure I don’t slip up. Sergeant Flintstone already thinks I’m holding back.”

“Your trainee instructor?” Thel asked rhetorically. “Was he fair in his judgement of you? Based on his surname, he must be from the same Regal One lineage as Flintcroft.”

Felix flapped his hand at Thel’s paranoia. “Definitely fair. Sergeant Flintstone was actually one of the officers who showed up to the rooftop incident a week ago. He seemed professional both then and now.”

There was no need to elaborate on the “rooftop incident” as everyone cast Virgil a side-eye even as the man in question grinned unrepentantly.

Albrecht stood abruptly, his expression resolute. “Well, my dear, if you need any help, just say the word. We may not have been given combat lessons in our schools but we were given the best education in how to best support our masters, that I assure you.”

Virgil clapped his hands. “And if you need someone to heckle Flinty Junior from the sidelines, I’m your guy.”

Sorath snorted. “Don’t drag him down with your antics, St. Lilith. Felix needs focus, not distractions.”

Thel nodded sharply in agreement. “I am not at all worried about this point. Your potential is immense, Felix, I am positive you will be the one laughing in the end.”

Felix looked around at his pets, their unwavering support evident in their unique ways. A small smile tugged at his lips.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“Thanks, guys,” he said softly. “I’ll make it through the trainee program with the highest remarks they will ever see. And I won’t let Jax or anyone else beat me.”

The room settled into a comfortable silence, each of his pets quietly vowing to support their master in whatever way they could. Despite the challenges ahead, Felix felt optimistic. He wasn’t alone in this strange new world—not really.

AN: Just casually dropping a wb bomb. Who me? 😶

The bright winter sun shone through the high glass windows of the Combat Division headquarters, casting streaks of light across the sprawling complex. It was a far cry from the cozy elegance of Felix’s home. The facility was a strange mix of efficiency and chaos: Regal Ones with fur of all colors and patterns sparred, snapped commands, or darted between combat zones. The air was thick with the sharp tang of sweat and the metallic shrieking of claws scraping against reinforced training mats.

Felix stepped through the entrance, his mask of stoicism betraying just a flicker of apprehension. His sleek black combat uniform, emblazoned with the gold insignia of the Combat Division, fit him snugly. Though the uniform made him look the part of a seasoned combatant, this was only his first day and there was still two weeks of training before he could truly join the ranks.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

His thoughts were interrupted by a buoyant voice.

“Ahhh! Felix Bloodstone! I knew you would look great in the combat uniforms!”

Felix turned to see a bubbly young recruit with wide blue eyes and soft caramel hair streaked with white, waving enthusiastically. Her fluffy ears twitched with excitement.

“Uh… hi?” Felix said, his voice unsure.

The girl clasped her hands in front of her chest, practically bouncing. “Omg, you don’t know how happy I was when I got accepted into the Combat Division! Everyone was so jealous when they learned I would not only be your coworker but also train with you as newbies! This is just amazing, isn’t it?!”

Felix barely had time to respond before another voice cut through the chatter.

“Pearlman, get a grip,” came Jax Flintcroft’s voice, dripping with irritation. He strode up, his signature cocky smirk in place. Behind him, his long blue tail flicked lazily.

“Don’t waste your breath fangirling over him,” Jax declared, his voice louder now, clearly intended to draw attention from the other recruits gathering nearby. “Bloodstone’s not all he’s cracked up to be.”

Ella turned to Jax with a pout. “Ugh! Haters begone! I’m tired of hearing you slander Felix—”

“Attention.” The sharp, gravelly voice of Sergeant Cain Flintstone cut through the room like a blade.

The recruits snapped to attention as the sergeant stepped forward. Flintstone was a tall, grizzled figure with a commanding presence, his gold eyes glinting with authority. The deep scar running across his jaw only added to his intimidating aura. Felix immediately recognized him as one of the combat officers who had arrived on the scene during the day of the choosing ceremony.

Flintstone surveyed the group with a scrutinizing gaze before speaking, giving Jax a warning look in particular that had Felix raise a brow in curiosity. “Welcome to the Combat Division trainee program. This will be the most grueling two weeks of your lives. Only the best make it through—”

“What happens if you don’t make it through?” That cocksure voice could only belong to Jax. And sure enough, Flintstone’s golden glare was trained on the smart aleck.

“—while the rest are relegated to logistics work or transferred to the Nurterer Division as combat instructors to little kits.” Flintstone’s glare lingered a moment longer, just enough to send the younger squirming.

Everyone else also stood up straighter, no one wanted to be relegated to desk work or worse—dealing with kittens who barely have their claws and teeth grown out.

“If any of you think this will be anything like the sparring games at the Ivory Sanctuary, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

Flintstone continued, “Here, you’ll learn to master fighting with your partial transformations—claws, tails, enhanced senses. These are not just tools; they’re extensions of your body and your life depends on mastering them. Today, we’ll start with assessment sparring. Pair up!”

Jax pointed challengingly at Felix, and the two became one of the faster ones to pair up—but not as fast as Ella and a tall black haired boy. The recruits gathered around the mat to watch the first match of the day: Ella Pearlman versus Theo Onyxwood. Felix stood at the edge of the group, arms crossed, eyes scanning the two recruits with focus as they stepped onto the mat.

Ella, with her soft caramel curls and bubbly demeanor, looked like she didn’t belong in the same ring as Theo. The tall boy was all sharp edges, his black hair slicked back, and his piercing copper eyes gleaming with an intensity that promised a brutal fight.

“Ella’s gonna get flattened,” someone muttered behind Felix, echoing the unspoken sentiment in the room.

Felix frowned. He wasn’t one to underestimate others, but Ella’s bubbly demeanor and almost dainty figure didn’t exactly scream “combat-ready.” Still, as the two squared off, he noticed something in her posture—a quiet confidence that hinted there might be more to her than met the eye.

Sergeant Flintstone raised a hand to silence the murmurs. “Pearlman. Onyxwood. Show me what you’ve got. Begin!”

The air shifted immediately as Theo lunged forward, his claws extending in a flash of gleaming obsidian. His movements were aggressive and precise, clearly honed from countless hours of practice. Ella barely dodged his first swipe, her body bending fluidly as she sidestepped, her caramel tail flicking like a dancer’s ribbon.

Theo pressed his advantage, his strikes relentless and fierce. Felix watched as Ella’s expression shifted, the sweet smile she’d worn earlier replaced by a sharp focus. She ducked under Theo’s claws and pivoted, her movements measured and deliberate.

Felix exhaled, surprised.

Ella retaliated with a sharp kick aimed at Theo’s side, forcing him to leap back. Instead of charging again, she stayed light on her feet, her tail swaying rhythmically as she circled him. Theo’s strikes were powerful but straightforward, relying on brute strength and speed. Ella, on the other hand, moved like she was playing chess, her every dodge and counter a calculated move designed to outwit her opponent.

“Is that all you’ve got, Pearlman!” Theo snarled, his frustration evident.

Ella tilted her head, a guileless smile returning to her blue eyes. “Is it my fault you’re such a brute?”

Theo growled and charged again, his tail whipping forward to trip her, but Ella sprang over it with surprising agility, landing lightly on her feet. She used the momentum to close the distance between them, her claws flashing as she struck at Theo’s exposed side. He twisted away just in time, but not before her claws grazed his shoulder.

The recruits around the mat murmured in surprise. Even Sergeant Flintstone’s golden eyes narrowed slightly, his expression betraying a flicker of approval.

Felix found himself studying Ella’s movements more closely. She wasn’t just quick; she was strategic. Every move she made seemed designed to exploit Theo’s aggressive tendencies, drawing him into overcommitting so she could strike where he was weakest.

As the match wore on, Theo’s frustration only grew, and his attacks became sloppier. Ella capitalized on his impatience, landing a sharp tail strike to his shin that sent him stumbling.

“Enough!” Flintstone barked, stepping forward as Theo regained his footing, panting heavily.

The recruits erupted in scattered applause as Ella straightened, brushing a strand of caramel hair from her face. Despite her narrow victory, she wasn’t even winded.

“Good work, Pearlman,” Flintstone said, his tone neutral but firm. He turned to Theo. “Onyxwood, control your temper. You’ve got power, but you’ll never win if you let your emotions rule you.”

Theo scowled but nodded, muttering a grudging “Yes, sir.”

Ella turned to the group with a bright smile, her bubbly sweetness snapping back into place as if she hadn’t just outmaneuvered a fierce opponent. “That was fun!”

Felix raised an eyebrow. For someone who came off as overly cheerful and fangirlish earlier, Ella had just proven she was far more than she appeared.

As she walked past him on her way to the sidelines, Ella caught Felix’s eye and made a fighting gesture at him, cheeks pinkening when they hadn’t even done so during her spar. “Your turn next, Felix. Fighting!”

Felix smiled stiffly in response. If Ella could fight like that, he had no doubt the rest of the recruits were just as skilled. The stakes were higher than he’d realized, and he couldn’t afford to falter.

He glanced at Jax, who was smirking confidently as he stepped toward the mat. No pressure, Felix, he thought grimly as he took his position. Just survive the first day.

Jax sauntered over to the other side of the mat, his smirk widening.

“Guess we’re doing this again, Bloodstone. Let’s settle things for real this time.”

Felix’s jaw tightened. Information he’d gleaned about the supposed spar at the Ivory Sanctuary resurfaced—ending in a draw, to the dismay of onlookers who’d expected Felix to trounce Jax. Most believed Felix had gone easy on him, to which Jax had somehow taken it as a personal insult.

“Fine,” Felix said simply, though his mind raced. How much of his body’s muscle memory would kick in?

As they took their positions, the other recruits gathered around the mat. Ella was practically vibrating with excitement. “Go, Felix! You’ve got this!”

“Shut up, Pearlman,” Theo snapped a few feet away but she ignored him. Clearly, even among the same crop of recruits, sides were inevitably being taken. Flintstone barked, “Begin!”

Jax lunged first, his blue claws gleaming as he aimed for Felix’s side. Felix sidestepped easily, his movements almost unnaturally smooth. Muscle memory guided him, and a strange hyperfocus state kicked in as though a switch had been flipped. The world seemed to slow, and he could track every movement of Jax’s strikes.

“Still playing defense?” Jax growled, displeasure flattening his ears. “Stop toying with me!”

If Felix had the wherewithal, he would protest how wrong this accusation was. He barely knew what he was doing, let alone have the mind to toy with his opponent! 

Instead, he was too busy avoiding each attack with calculated precision. He noticed the way Jax’s tail lashed aggressively, the subtle shifts in his footing. The muscle memory embedded in his body screamed for him to counter, but Felix hesitated, unsure of his ability to keep up the act.

Finally, with a hiss of annoyance Jax launched a sweeping tail attack aimed to unbalance him. Felix reacted instinctively. His own tail shot out—thick, muscular, and tipped with a diamond-shaped end—meeting Jax’s tail mid-swing with a sharp crack that echoed through the training hall.

The force of Felix’s counter sent Jax skidding backward, his claws digging into the mat for balance. Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Felix exhaled sharply, his tail coiling behind him in a controlled arc. He hadn’t even consciously used it; his body had done it on its own.

“Lucky shot,” Jax spat, though his confidence wavered.

Felix smirked faintly. “If you say so.”

The match escalated. Claws flashed and tails struck with lightning speed, the air around them filled with the sharp sounds of claws meeting claws and tails whipping through the air. Felix’s body moved with precision, but his mind struggled to keep up with the demands of manipulating his partial transformations. Each strike, block, and counter felt like walking a tightrope.

Toward the end of the match, Jax feigned a strike with his claws but quickly shifted, whipping his tail low in an attempt to trip Felix. Felix’s balance wavered, and panic flared.

Then, instinct took over again. Felix’s tail snapped to the side, anchoring him and counterbalancing his weight. He recovered just in time to block Jax’s follow-up strike with his claws, their impact sending sparks flying.

The match ended in a stalemate once again, both combatants panting and glaring at each other.

Flintstone clapped his hands once, signaling the end. “Enough!”

The recruits fell silent as Flintstone approached Felix and Jax. His gaze bore into them, making Felix feel as though the sergeant could see through his carefully maintained façade.

“Good effort from both of you,” Flintstone said gruffly. “But Bloodstone.”

Felix stiffened.

“You’re holding back.” Flintstone’s voice was like steel. “You’ve got potential, but hesitation will get you killed in the field. Learn to commit, or you’ll end up as another name on a casualty report.”

Felix nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. Flintstone’s critique stung, but it also sparked a fire within him. He couldn’t afford to let his inexperience—or his act—become a liability.

Flintstone shifted his gaze to Jax. “And you. You have the same problem as Onyxwood. Get a hold of your emotions and tone down that unwarranted overconfidence or I will do it for you.”

Jax muttered something under his breath but nodded.

As the recruits were dismissed for a short break, Felix let out a slow breath. He had survived the first sparring session, but he knew this was only the beginning. The real challenge lay ahead.

From the sidelines, Ella ran up to him, beaming. “You were awesome, Felix! You always look so strong and graceful when you’re fighting!”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Jax scowled but said nothing, stalking off toward the water station.

Felix managed a more natural smile for Ella’s benefit this time, but his thoughts were far from celebratory. He had a long way to go, and the weight of Sergeant Flintstone’s words hung heavily in his mind: Hesitation will get you killed.

AN: Any ideas which cat breeds are Jax, Ella and Theo? And Felix too while we’re at it? 😹

Hint: Ella has white streaked caramel hair with blue eyes. Jax has wild and thick blue hair with yellow eyes. Theo has sleek black hair with copper eyes. Felix is albino with silvery white hair and pale eyes that appear ruby red.

Worldbuilding detail: The last names of Regal Ones are jewel or precious mineral/stone inspired and usually reflect their hair (fur) or eye color. Cats of the same breed share a similar prefix ie: Flintstone and Flintcroft.

The encounter with Jax affected Felix more than he let on, though he tried not to let it show. His pets, however, seemed to sense his conflicted thoughts as they wandered through the temple grounds. The lively atmosphere around them helped ease the tension, with the soft jingling of bells, the murmur of prayers, and the occasional laughter of visitors filling the air.

As they turned a corner near the main temple courtyard, they noticed a side hall set apart from the bustling crowd that was no less full of people as the wishing tree courtyard had been. Temple cats sat behind low wooden tables, arranging what appeared to be smooth, polished fish bones on their tables. Large, intricate bones, likely from sea creatures, were marked with delicate engravings of symbols, runes, and tiny pictographs. 

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

The signboard nearby read: Oracle Bone Readings—Find Guidance in the Tides of Fate. Under it in smaller print explained the offerings: career fortunes, love fortunes, and general life advice, each for a modest fee.

“Oracle bones?” Felix muttered, his curiosity piqued.

“Ooh, fortune-telling!” Virgil tilted his head, grinning. “I didn’t know Regal Ones believed in this stuff.”

“Many don’t,” Thel replied, his tone matter-of-fact. “But the temple has always blended tradition with cultural curiosity. Fortune-telling is just one of the many services that draw visitors.”

Albrecht’s eyes lit up, clearly interested. “Why not give it a try? I shall go first!”

The group approached one of the tables, where a serene-looking temple cat welcomed them with a slight bow. Her fur, white with mottled black, brown, and orange patches, looked very touchable in the sunlight filtering through the courtyard’s canopy.

Not that anyone would dare to pet her as it was considered gauche to pet a Regal One unless given permission. 

“Welcome to the Oracle Bone Reading,” she said, her voice calm and melodic. “What guidance do you seek today?”

Albrecht, sat down straight and confident, didn’t hesitate. “Love, of course.”

The temple cat gestured to the tray of polished bones with a paw. “Please choose three bones that resonate with you, and I will interpret their alignment.”

Albrecht studied the tray carefully, as though the bones might reveal their secrets if he stared hard enough. He finally selected three, laying them out on the table.

The temple cat arranged the bones in a triangular formation and traced the engraved symbols with the pad of her paw. Her eyes closed briefly, as if connecting with some unseen force.

“Your heart is loyal and devoted,” she said. “But your standards are high, perhaps too high. If you wish to find love, you must learn to balance your ideals with reality.”

Albrecht frowned. “I don’t settle,” he said firmly.

The temple cat flicked her ears. “Love is not about settling. It is about compromise. Keep that in mind.”

Virgil stepped forward next, grinning as he rubbed his hands together. “Alright, let’s see what the bones have to say about my love life.”

The temple cat swayed her tail patiently and gestured for him to select his bones. He picked three at random, placing them down after feeling them between his fingers in curiosity.

She arranged them into a crescent shape and examined them closely. “You are charming and magnetic, but your lighthearted nature often masks deeper insecurities. If you wish for true connection, you must first be honest with yourself about what you truly want.”

Virgil’s grin dropped slightly, though it quickly raised again, even brighter than before. “I guess I’ll have to think about that one.”

After him was Sorath who approached the table with an air of nonchalance. His sunglasses were still perched on his nose, though his lips displayed their usual roguish smirk. “Love,” he said simply with a little snap of his fingers.

The temple cat nodded and gestured for him to choose. Sorath picked three bones with little fanfare and handed them over.

Arranging the bones into a diagonal line, the temple cat studied the runes etched into their surface. “Your confidence is both your strength and your weakness,” she said. “You attract others easily, but lasting connections require sincerity. Do not be afraid to let someone see beyond the surface.”

Sorath maintained his devil-may-care smirk but he did straighten up from his slouch. He said nothing further as he stepped back, but his lips did seem to pout slightly in a thoughtful moue.

Thel’s turn came and he walked forward briskly, his expression calm and composed. “Career,” he said, selecting his bones with precision. Unlike his fellow pets, he had no interest in frivolous things like love.

The temple cat arranged them into a circular pattern and studied them intently. “You are ambitious and calculating, with the potential for great success. Your strength lies in your ability to strategize and execute plans with precision.”

Thel nodded, clearly pleased.

“However,” the temple cat added, “your calculating nature may hinder you. Not every situation will allow for the weighing of pros and cons. Sometimes, you must take risks and listen to what the heart wants.”

Thel’s brow furrowed slightly as he processed her words.

Felix finally stepped forward, last in line, feeling a little awkward. “Um, career, I guess.” Like Thel, he wasn’t very interested in love. What was most pressing, with the imminent combat trainee program looming ahead, was his career and means of livelihood in this world.

The temple cat’s eyes looked up at him briefly before she placed a paw on the table, the tip of her tail pointing at the bones. “Like the others, choose three that call to you.”

Felix gave the tray a cursory sweep and selected three bones, placing them carefully on the table. The temple cat arranged them into a triangular formation and traced the runes with the pad of her paw.

“You’re at a crossroads,” she began. “You’ve recently embarked on a new path, one that will test not only your physical strength but your determination and adaptability. Success lies ahead, but it will not come easily. You must remain open to learning from others and trust your instincts.”

Felix frowned slightly. It was vague, but her words sounded like good advice. “Anything else?”

Her tail swished enigmatically. “Learn to embrace yourself and the world around you. Even the strongest cannot achieve their goals alone.”

Felix thanked her quietly and stepped back to join the others.

After the readings, the group wandered further into the temple grounds until they reached a shaded pavilion. 

“So,” Virgil began, stretching lazily. “What did everyone think about those readings? Pretty wild, huh?”

Felix tapped thoughtfully at his chin. “I found mine rather insightful. She described my situation almost perfectly.”

Thel frowned. “I can’t say I agree. Letting emotions cloud your judgement is a sign of weakness, hardly a path to success.”

Albrecht also pursed his lips. “Likewise. What’s wrong with having high standards? I’d rather remain a bachelor than settle or ‘compromise’, whatever that means!”

Sorath remained silent, a contemplative look on his usually carefree countenance. It was clear that for him, his reading had hit too close to home. 

But the group didn’t ponder too much over whether the readings were truly accurate or not as a tantalizing aroma of grilled fish wafted through the air, making Felix’s stomach growl.

“Where’s that smell coming from?” Felix inhaled deeply, taking a few steps towards the source. The others also followed, feeling various degrees of hunger themselves.

“Ah! The famous fish lunch! I’ve been thinking of it even in my dreams over the past week,” Virgil exclaimed, gesturing animatedly to a discrete sign that read, “Free Lunch for All Visitors: A Blessing of the Night Hunter.”

A temple cat approached them, bowing politely. “Would you like to join us for lunch?”

“Yes, please,” Felix said, grateful for the invitation.

The temple cat led them to a long, low table in a private room reserved for small groups. Plates of steaming fish dishes were already set out, along with bowls of seaweed soup and an assortment of pickled vegetables. There was grilled fish seasoned with herbs, a big pot full of a rich, savory fish broth, and even fish balls on skewers glazed with a sweet soy sauce.

“This smells amazing,” Virgil said, already reaching for a skewer.

“Wait,” Albrecht snapped, swatting his hand away. “We should eat respectfully. This is a temple, not a street stall.”

Virgil rolled his eyes but waited as Felix said a quick word of thanks before they began eating.

The meal was quiet at first, everyone focused on the delicious food. But as they ate, they forgot all about the readings from earlier and found themselves relaxing, the savory flavors and fragrant aroma of the dishes filing their senses.

“This temple is incredible,” Felix finally broke the comfortable silence. “The fortune-telling, the wishing tree, the food… It’s a great way to spend a day with friends.”

“It’s a tourist trap,” Thel said, though he was on his second serving of fish.

“Maybe,” Felix admitted. “But it’s also kind of… nice. I can see why it’s so popular.”

Sorath grinned, raising his glass of iced green tea in a teasing toast. “Well, then it seems coming here was a good idea. Let’s hope the gods hear our prayers—to good luck and—”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“Felix not getting his tail handed to him tomorrow!” Virgil finished with wicked humor.

Felix huffed, but the others laughed, everyone joining in the impromptu toast, the atmosphere full of simple enjoyment and lighthearted cheer.

AN: trainee!Felix arc finally starts next chapter! 🐈‍⬛️🫡✨️

The sun was high in the sky, its warm rays bathing the capital of Mzia in a golden halo despite the early winter chill. Felix adjusted the strap of his satchel, no longer feeling self-conscious as he walked with his four human pets trailing behind him. 

It had been a week since he brought them home, and somehow, against all odds, they’d managed to establish a semblance of routine. Waking up, eating breakfast, exploring the city during the day, having lunch outside and then returning home to relax and share dinner together had become their daily rhythm. Felix had even started to feel a bit more at ease, even with Virgil’s antics and Thel’s pointed remarks popping up every now and then.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

(He has a theory that this usually happens when there is a lull or when boredom sets in. Just so they can keep their harried owner, who no longer has a private life now, on his toes.)

Today, the group had planned a special outing to end the week-long “pet bonding week” before Felix had to report for his first day at the Combat Division—Virgil’s suggestion, naturally. They were heading to the Nine Lives Temple, a renowned site in the eastern part of the city.

“It’s where I got that good luck charm for you,” Virgil reminded him cheerfully, practically skipping as he led the way. “You know, the one that’s totally why you haven’t tripped and broken your neck yet.”

Felix shot him a look but said nothing. The good luck charm—a fluffy white cat’s paw (likely the equivalent to a rabbit’s foot in this world)—was now acting as a phone charm. He didn’t believe in superstitions, but it was cute.

The temple was a grand structure with a long history behind it, its design inspired entirely by Regal Ones. Polished statues of cats in various poses flanked the wide stone staircase leading to the main entrance, their brass surfaces gleaming in the sunlight. Intricate carvings of myths involving cat deities adorned the temple’s towering pillars, and an enormous wishing tree stood in the courtyard, its branches heavy with golden bells tied by visitors. The gentle tinkling of the bells filled the air, blending with the murmur of the crowd.

“It’s certainly lively,” Sorath remarked, donning a wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses. “Too lively. If one person recognizes me…”

“Relax, Mister Mzia,” Virgil teased. “We’re here to enjoy ourselves. Besides, not everyone cares about your pageant days.”

Sorath made to punch him but Virgil skipped gleefully out of the way. Not to be outdone, Sorath bounded after him and they scuffled like frisky pups.

Thel was already examining the temple’s carvings with keen interest. “Did you know this temple dates back nearly three centuries? It was commissioned by the Grand Council, the former incarnation of the Big 3, to honor the mythological origins of Regal Ones. The cat deity in the main hall of the temple is said to represent—”

“Let me guess,” Virgil interrupted. “A giant housecat that will eat you if you ever offend them?”

Thel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Felix, already accustomed to Virgil being flippant just for the sake of being flippant, simply rolled his eyes. “Virgil is actually not wrong for once. From what I’ve seen, the cat deities in old myths are rarely depicted as benevolent.”

“Hey, what do you mean not wrong for once!”

Albrecht, however, seemed to take the temple’s atmosphere more seriously. He scanned the courtyard, muttering to himself about finding the optimal spot to tie their wishing bells. “Placement is crucial,” he declared. “The higher the branch, the better the luck.”

“Albrecht,” Felix said, “I don’t think the temple cats are handing out ladders.”

Inside the courtyard, temple cats—Regal Ones in their various cat forms—weaved nimbly among the crowd, selling golden bells and cat’s paw charms in baskets hanging around their necks to visitors. Felix leaned down and bought a bell for himself as well as for each of his pets, who eagerly began writing their wishes.

Thel’s handwriting was meticulous as he inscribed his wish on the small slip of paper provided with his bell. “For efficiency and success in all endeavors,” he read aloud before tucking it inside the hollow bell and then tying it carefully on a branch.

Sorath, grinned as he scrawled, “For Felix to survive his first week without embarrassing himself too much.” Felix pinched him in vengeance, but Sorath only smirked and blew a kiss at him as he hung his bell alongside Thel’s.

Albrecht, with a serious expression, wrote in fancy script, “For our master to rise to greatness where he belongs.” He tied his bell to a particularly high branch, looking immensely satisfied with himself.

Finally, Virgil also finished scribbling something quickly, a mischievous glint in his eye. “For Felix to come home in one piece—preferably with both ears and tail still attached,” he announced. 

“Haha. Very funny guys.” Felix said with exasperation, “Is everyone done?”

“Not yet.” Virgil tucked his bell into his pocket. “I’m going to find the perfect branch.”

Felix shook his head and moved to tie his own bell. He had only written simply—“For health and happiness.”

As Felix adjusted the ribbon on his bell, a loud, boisterous laugh cut through the tinkling of the wishing bells. He turned reflexively to the source of the sound.

Standing near the wishing tree was a boy with a wild mane of blue and the yellow/amber eyes most common among Regal Ones. He was flanked by three human pets. The girls were identical triplets, their pastel dresses and soft flaxen curls making them look like porcelain dolls.

“Bloodstone!” The boy called out, spotting Felix. He strode over, grinning from ear to ear. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Felix pasted on a polite smile, hiding his confusion and momentary panic at who this guy was to his original self. “Yes?”

The other boy’s pets followed close behind, their synchronized movements graceful, yes, but also definitely eerie to watch. “I’d like you to meet my girls—the Bloom sisters,” he said, gesturing to them proudly. “Annabelle, Arabella, and Ariella. They’re not just beautiful—they’re talented too. Last year, Arabella even won Miss Mzia.”

Sorath, standing nearby, muttered almost to himself. “So that’s where I’ve seen them before.” Unlike Sorath, the middle sister, Arabella seemed quite proud of her Miss Mzia title as she preened at her master’s praise.

The blue haired boy only spared Sorath a brief look before dismissing him to fix his attention on Felix, yellow eyes like the gaze of a cat looking at a mouse. “So,” he began, crossing his arms, “are you ready for the Combat Division? Or are you still clinging to your old school glory?”

Felix’s thoughts raced as he guessed this was one of his yearmates from the Ivory Sanctuary. On the surface, he only raised a cool brow. “I’m ready.”

“Are you?” The blue-haired boy’s smirk widened. “I remember our last spar. A tie, wasn’t it? You’re good, Bloodstone, but real combat training isn’t the same as student spars. You sure you’re ready to have the floor wiped with you?”

Felix bristled, instantly recalling the group chat he peeked in on a week ago. The one he apparently tied with in their end of the year spar was named… Jax Flintcroft? “We’ll see soon enough, won’t we, Flintcroft?”

“Confident. I like that.” Jax’s voice dripped with mockery.

Albrecht drew himself up like an affronted peacock and spoke loudly enough for Jax to hear, “Is that a chip on your shoulder?”

Jax’s grin faltered, and he almost looked like he wanted to retort back but his decorum as a Regal One clearly held him back. “Tell you what,” he said, leaning closer to Felix. “Let’s make this interesting. Whoever scores higher in the trainee program buys the other lunch for a week—and admits they’re second best.”

Felix hesitated. The idea of competing with Jax was more stressful than appealing, but he couldn’t back down now—not with Jax’s pets watching, not with his own pets nearby.

“Fine,” he said, extending his hand.

Jax’s grin widened as they shook on it. “Looking forward to it, Bloodstone.”

As Jax and his pets moved on, Felix let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“That was not unexpected,” Thel remarked, his tone neutral. Clearly referring to the common cases of big headedness among young Regal Ones just stepping out of their ivory walls. It was why he thought Felix was so different—he lacked that cocksure attitude. 

“Your yearmate is full of himself, alright,” Sorath added. “You didn’t have to agree to his stupid bet.”

Felix shrugged, trying to seem unaffected. “It’s fine. I’ll just have to win.” This was something that he knew he would be facing ever since learning about his original self’s track record as some kind of combat genius.

Virgil reappeared, finally tying his bell to the wishing tree. “What did I miss?” he asked, looking around.

“Nothing important,” Felix said quickly, eager to change the subject.

Albrecht sighed tenderly. “Honestly, my dear, you’re far too noble for your own good.”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“…” Felix shook off the goosebumps that rose as a reaction. Though it did have the unintended effect of distracting him from feeling apprehension about the upcoming trainee program. 

As they moved on from the wishing tree, he glanced one last time at the bells swaying gently in the breeze, their golden surfaces catching the sunlight. 

AN: introducing new supporting characters, with more kitties coming soon 😼

Felix watched nervously. “Virgil, wait—what are you planning this time?”

Virgil grinned, producing a garish pink wig, a floral kimono-style wrap, oversized rhinestone encrusted sunglasses and an equally gaudy string of fake pearls from his seemingly bottomless bag. “Just trust me.”

“No, absolutely not—” Felix began, but Virgil was already wrapping himself in the kimono and donning the wig. Before anyone could stop him, he darted into the crowd, adjusting his ensemble on the go.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Virgil bulldozed through the throng of fans with dramatic flair, his voice rising to an earsplitting wail. “Sorath, you traitor!”

The crowd parted in stunned silence as Virgil pushed to the front, brandishing a fake handkerchief he’d somehow conjured.

“How could you?” Virgil shrieked, dabbing at the tears streaming down his face—or at least convincingly mimicked tears, thanks to the sunglasses that hid part of his face and a conveniently squirted water bottle hidden up his sleeve.

Felix’s mouth dropped open as he watched from the sidelines, horrified. “What is he doing?!”

Virgil continued, clutching at his chest as if mortally wounded. “I gave you my best years! My love! And this is how you repay me? Flaunting yourself in front of all these strangers like I meant nothing to you!”

The fans and admirers looked on, their expressions torn between shock and morbid fascination. It was like watching a train wreck—horrible, but impossible to look away.

“Wait… is that really his ex?” someone whispered.
“Did Mister Mzia have a secret lover?” another speculated.

Virgil leaned heavily on a lamppost as if his legs couldn’t hold up his weight from the grief, sobbing dramatically. “I can’t go on without you, Sorath! If you don’t take me back, I’ll… I’ll throw myself off the nearest building!”

The crowd collectively gasped, some even raising their phones to record the spectacle. 

The absurdity of the scene was enough to draw attention away from Sorath, who was frozen in disbelief and flushing red with outrage. He was so flabbergasted, he almost missed the advantage provided by the distraction to make his getaway. 

Luckily, Felix, now hiding behind the edge of his hoodie, hurried forward and grabbed Sorath by the wrist. He hissed sharply, “Come on,” pulling him away from the crowd.

All the while, he was muttering a mantra under his breath, “I don’t know him. I’ve never seen this man in my life—”

By the time Virgil finished his impromptu performance, Sorath was safely out of sight, and the group reconvened at a quieter corner of the street.

When Virgil rejoined the group, his wig askew and fake pearls rattling, the crowd had dispersed, still abuzz with the scandalous scene. Sorath leaned against the wall of a corner store a few feet away, his face twisted in a grimace.

“That,” Sorath said flatly, “was disturbing. Now I have to worry about my reputation taking a hit. Wasn’t there another way?”

“Effective, though, and that’s all you need,” Virgil replied with a smug grin, tossing the disguises back into his bag. He sounded completely unconcerned about his true identity being found out and becoming a public embarrassment himself. 

In fact, Felix almost suspected that Virgil would even relish in it and the ensuing conniption he would send his uptight parents into.

Albrecht crossed his arms, looking thoroughly disdainful. “St. Lilith, you’ve somehow managed to sink to an entirely new low. Congratulations.”

Even Thel, usually so judgemental, arched an eyebrow. “I… have no words.”

Virgil shrugged, unbothered. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Felix sighed, pulling his hood further over his head. And as if asking the universe, “Why do these things always happen?”

As the group walked away from the scene, Sorath finally broke the unexpectedly comfortable silence. “For the record, this is why I hate being recognized. Fame sucks.”

“You were Mister Mzia, right?” Felix asked, still processing the revelation. No wonder Sorath attracted such a crowd back at the Pet Bureau that day of the choosing ceremony. They were just lucky that everyone was more concerned about meeting their new master or pet.

Sorath grumbled, kicking at a stray pebble. “Unfortunately.”

Virgil, munching on a chocolate bar, interjected, “So says the guy who won Mister Mzia, the most prestigious beauty pageant in town, other than Miss Mzia of course.”

Sorath shot him a glare. “That wasn’t by choice. I was twenty, for crying out loud. You think I want to parade around in front of cameras and judges like some… showpiece?

“My mother strong-armed me into it. It was all part of her plan to position me as the perfect pet for some elite Regal One.”

Albrecht nodded knowingly. “The Goodwine family, correct? Renowned for their connections, through marriages and the master/pet bonds. Your mother is quite the matriarch.”

“‘Connections’ is putting it mildly,” Sorath muttered, a bitter edge to his voice. “She’s obsessed with status and appearances. Everything we did growing up was orchestrated by her. This pageant nonsense was just the latest scheme. Entering me into Mister Mzia was just another way to climb the social ladder.”

Felix patted his arm commiseratingly. “That sounds rough. Did you ever try to tell her no?”

Sorath let out a dry laugh. “You don’t say no to my mother. Not unless you want to be disowned.”

“What about your father?” Felix asked hopefully.

Sorath snorted, “Him? He doesn’t have a single thought of his own. Must’ve been why she chose to marry him in the first place.”

“…” A controlling mother and a deadbeat father? Felix regretted asking.

Virgil, now making his way through a bag of cheese chips, quipped, “I hear you. But at least you only have mommy issues. Try having both of them breathing down your necks.”

“I, for one, think you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. No matter the motives, at least your mother did it all with your future in mind.” Thel suddenly cut in coldly.

Felix was reminded again that Thel was an orphan and a prestigious event like Mister Mzia wasn’t an opportunity that just anyone could have.

Sorath looked frustrated but didn’t deny it. “She’s… complicated. I know she thinks she’s doing what’s best for the family, but sometimes it feels like I’m just a pawn in her game.”

Felix studied Sorath’s expression, noting the tired unhappiness beneath his usual bravado. “You’re more than that, you know. Whatever your mother’s plans were, they don’t define you. Especially now that you have come of age and have your own life now.”

Sorath blinked, sensing the sincerity in Felix’s tone. A faint smile crossed his lips, taking on that familiar roguish edge once again. “Thanks, Felix. You’re right. I’m no longer under her thumb. I’m at the mercy of my cute master now.”

Felix flushed. Did he have to say it like that?! And that wasn’t what he meant!

Virgil smirked, nudging Felix with his elbow. “Look at you, playing the protective master who supports his pets. So wholesome.”

Felix elbowed him back with a roll of his eyes, but he couldn’t suppress a small smile. 

As the group continued their outing, the heavier subject of difficult family members began to dissipate. Felix couldn’t help but feel like he had a better understanding of his unusual companions.

They were a handful, no doubt, but moments like these reminded him that they were more than just pets or responsibilities. They were individuals, each with their own stories, struggles, and strengths.

And somehow, Felix thought, as Sorath cracked a joke to lighten the mood and Virgil tried to convince everyone to try anchovy flavored lollipops, they were starting to feel a little like a family.

As the sun began to set, the group made their way back to Sphinx Tower, laden with shopping bags and snacks. Despite the chaos of the day, there was a newfound sense of camaraderie among them.

Virgil lounged on the carpet, munching on seaweed crackers from his neverending snack stash. Albrecht sifted through fancy boxes of clothes with a critical eye, while Thel quietly read one of his new books. Sorath stretched out on an armchair, looking unusually relaxed.

Felix flopped onto the couch and watched them under half-lidded eyes. It had been a tiring day, but it had to be said that Thel was right to include “team-building” activities if this was the result—them beginning to find their place, not just in his life, but in each other’s as well.

(Though, Felix had some doubts that Thel’s idea of team-building probably didn’t look anything like how it turned out today.)

“Tomorrow,” Felix muttered to himself, “we’re staying in.”

Virgil overheard and grinned. “Good luck with that.”

Felix picked up a candy wrapper and threw it at him. Virgil returned fire, only to miss and hit Albrecht. Well, that disturbed the hornet’s nest and the living room soon devolved into flying goose feathers from pillows, rolled up tissue paper printed with fancy brand logos and colorful snack wrappers.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Even as Felix bemoaned the cleanup afterwards while diving behind the couch, he couldn’t help but laugh. 

His life had become a lot more interesting—and maybe even a little brighter—with these four by his side.

AN: Thoughts on an official non-ai generated cover?

1.

2.

3.