The wind roared in Mia's ears, the sky now a storm-wracked blur of grays and streaking lightning. Professor Hootsworth's wings beat frantically, his feathers soaked and his control faltering as the trio spiraled downward in a terrifying free fall. Nutmeg clung to her like a musclebound backpack, hissing through his teeth as branches and wind tore at them.
Below, jagged rocks awaited, nature's cruel embrace ready to make a memory of them.
Mia's mind flickered in panic, heart hammering too loud to think. But then—just before impact—something shifted.
The largest rock directly in their path split horizontally. No sound, no fanfare—just a seamless mechanical movement as the stone shifted aside to reveal a tunnel entrance glowing faintly blue. Before Mia could scream or blink, they were sucked inside.
The opening sealed shut just as quickly.
From above, the mechanical birds—Laser Falcons—zipped past, unknowing and unseeing. The foliage overhead concealed all.
Inside, Mia and her beasts tumbled through a smooth metal chute, spinning and sliding in darkness. Faint blue lights lined the edges, pulsing softly like veins through the mechanical artery. When they finally reached the bottom, they were spat onto a large padded landing cushion, breathless, tangled, but miraculously alive.
Mia lay flat on her back, staring at the curved ceiling, her voice croaky. "Well… that was horrifying."
Professor Hootsworth coughed dramatically beside her, glasses hanging from one ear. "I demand a refund on this ride."
Nutmeg, absurdly unfazed, leapt to his feet and flexed his biceps. "I call that a ten out of ten landing. Let's do it again!"
Before they could collect themselves, lights blinked on overhead—white, harsh, clinical. Three figures approached: two uniformed rangers and one armored soldier, all with weapons at the ready, though not pointed. Yet.
"She's conscious," said one of the rangers.
"She's not supposed to be here," the soldier replied, eyeing the trio. "And she doesn't look like a Syndicate agent. Call for a med-beast."
Moments later, a creature scuttled into the room—fuzzy like cotton candy, light green with four golden-brown appendages protruding like sticks from its sides. It blinked glowing yellow eyes at them, then released gentle beams of light that washed over the three.
Warmth flooded Mia's body. Her bruises vanished. Her headache disappeared. Even Hootsworth's scorched feathers regrew instantly, pristine and gleaming. Nutmeg flexed with a delighted squeal. "Look at this shine!"
After confirming they were stable, the rangers gestured toward a hallway. "Separate them for questioning. Full records check."
Mia raised her eyebrows. Thinking 'Uh… rude, but okay.' But being a sort captive here she didn't really have the courage to say that.
Her room was metallic, windowless, and cool. Across from her, a wide screen displayed city records of her identity.
Name: Mia Greaves
Occupation: Elementary School Teacher, Beginner Beast Tamer
Beast Companions:
Professor Hootsworth (Owl Scholar, Rare Type – Evolved)
Nutmeg (Variant Squirrel, Evolved – Bramble Smasher)
Origin: Recent graduate of the Royal Beast Taming Academy
Notes: Behavioral shift observed post-incident. Confidence spike. Tactical adaptability increased. Further observation recommended.
Mia stared at that last line.
Behavioral shift? Her fingers twitched in her lap.
They didn't know anything about her cheat skill—Evolution Heart—thank the heavens. That was her deepest secret, and no machine, magic, or human would ever sniff it out unless she told them directly. Which she wouldn't. Ever.
Instead, they'd just noticed the difference between the quiet, cautious woman whose body she now inhabited—and the more decisive, slyly humorous, adaptable Mia from another world. She had taken on the persona of a teacher, but kept her edge. It was subtle, but apparently not subtle enough.
Okay, she thought. Breathe. You've done nothing wrong. You're a legal tamer, your beasts are registered, you're a licensed educator, and also incredibly cute. They have no reason to arrest you.
The door hissed open.
In walked the kind of woman who could strike fear into hearts without raising her voice.
Tall—easily six feet—her sleek uniform was flawless, dark navy trimmed with silver, and her boots tapped with controlled precision. She had sharp features, a commanding air, and a smile that looked friendly on the surface—but her eyes… her eyes could skin lies alive.
The officer said nothing at first. She simply closed the door behind her and tapped something on her clipboard. Then she looked at Mia.
"Take a seat, Ms. Greaves."
Mia blinked, realizing she'd been standing. She moved to the chair like a student about to face detention and did her best not to squirm.
The officer tapped her tablet again.
"Mia Greaves. Elementary teacher. Recent graduate. Two beasts under contract, both evolved in under six months." Her tone was even, unreadable. "Would you care to explain how a civilian with no reported field experience found herself in one of the most heavily patrolled restricted forests in the district, during a thunderstorm, pursued by Syndicate-controlled Laser Falcons?"
Mia blinked. "Well… when you say it like that, it sounds suspicious."
The officer did not laugh.
Mia sighed and leaned forward a little. "I was scouting. With my team. I've recently qualified for an upcoming city-level competition and thought I'd try my luck in the wild before the market inflated prices again. I wasn't aware the Syndicate had started operating this deep."
"You went scouting—alone?" the officer asked, one brow arched.
"With my beasts," Mia replied. "Professor Hootsworth is a rare breed with flight and camouflage. Nutmeg is… muscle. I thought we'd be fine. We were fine until the storm hit."
The officer paused.
Her fingers drummed softly against the clipboard. "You've grown… confident. More so than your academy records suggest."
"I've had to," Mia said honestly. "I teach children and take care of my beasts. Life doesn't exactly wait for you to find your confidence."
The officer finally smiled again, though it still didn't reach her eyes.
"I like that answer," she said. "But your timing couldn't be worse. You stumbled into the middle of an ongoing investigation. We've been tracking this Syndicate for months—they're running a trafficking ring, capturing and torturing rare and unique beasts for black market sales."
Mia's heart squeezed.
"So… the birds…?"
"Syndicate tech," the officer confirmed. "Luckily, your little plunge took you into one of our camouflaged field outposts. And you've given us an interesting distraction."
Mia stiffened. "Distraction?"
"You lived. Most who get caught in Syndicate net zones don't. Either you're lucky…" The officer's eyes narrowed slightly. "Or you're not just a teacher."
Mia's breath caught, but she didn't flinch.
She smiled instead. "I am a teacher. Kids love me."
The officer stared at her a moment longer. Then she stood.
"Until we confirm your story and sweep your beasts for Syndicate traces, you'll remain here. Don't try to run. Not that you could."
As she walked to the door, she paused.
"One more thing."
Mia raised her head.
"What's your relationship to Rowan Vale, the Alchemy Guildmaster?"
Mia blinked. "We've met. Twice. He owes me dinner."
The officer gave a noncommittal grunt.
Then she left, leaving Mia alone once more—nervous, but relieved.
At least they didn't know her biggest secret.
.
Yet.