LEANDER | EMBERCHAIN RESISTANCE

The city smelled of damp metal and cheap cigarette ash. The rain had stopped, but the scent clung to the cracked sidewalks, seeping into the main force of Emberchain's bones.

Leander moved quietly through the alleyway, each step soft despite the weight of his boots. Kael led, head lowered, his breath misting into the cold air. Eiran stalked a few steps behind him, gun tight in hand, eyes sharp and restless.

Montclair adjusted his gloves, the moonlight glinting off his watch. Thalen walked at the rear, scanning every shadow, massive hands curled into protective fists.

Riven vanished into the rooftops above, wings tucked tight, flitting between broken neon signs and rusted drainpipes.

The target was a shipping warehouse on the riverbank, rumored to be the final transit point for a group of demi-human children, waiting to be auctioned overseas at dawn.

Leander could almost taste it before they arrived: a wrongness, the too-quiet hum in the night air. His nose twitched, catching a sharp edge beneath the warehouse’s stale chemical scent.

As they breached the side entrance, Kael’s low voice called out, “Move. Quietly.”

The group fanned out, weapons raised. A single nod before Kael pushed open the heavy doors. They all stepped in hurriedly, fingers on the triggers, and then... silence. Unnerving, heavy, painful silence.

Leander tried to push Thalen back, but it was too late. He had already seen it: the long line of small bodies arranged on the concrete, ears and tails limp.

Thalen fell to his knees instantly, voice cracking. “No... Please, no...” His big hands shook as they hovered uselessly over a tiny fox child's soft and cold fur.

Eiran was the next one to react, jaw tightening. His fist landed on the empty metal cages, the clutter resonating in the silence. “Fuck... FUCK!”

Kael stood frozen, claws half-extended, red hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, half from the barely contained rage, half from the panic settling in his gut as his eyes moved from body to body, as if hoping to find a single one breathing.

“Check for survivors,” the single, cold command.

Montclair moved swiftly, like water, silent, reverent, checking the pulse of every little body. And after each of them, he shook his head, slower and slower, as if the reality of it all had started to settle and weigh heavily on his heart.

“Gone. All of them,” his voice low and frayed.

Leander moved among them in silence. He knelt by a rabbit child, fur soft and white as snow. His small hand clutched a silver bracelet with a small pendant. It was cruelly clean. Leander took it and slipped it carefully into his pocket, wishing to take this failure with him, as to never forget what the reality was outside the safety of the HQ he spent so much time at. He scanned the rest of their bodies before returning to the group.

“Injection,” he said coldly, eyes darting back to the small figures. “They didn't suffer.”

Thalen's wails grew louder as he cradled a small wolf in his arms, as if his warmth and tears could bring him back. “They were just babies... They... They needed help... Not this...”

Riven landed soundlessly from an overhead beam, his wings shuddering violently, feathers rattling. “That fucking rat is going to pay for this.”

Leander turned to him, giving him a meaningful glare. “If it's any consolation, at least now we know who he is, so this won't ever happen again.”

Before any heated discussion could arise from Leander's coldness even in such a situation, Kael stepped forward.

“Enough chatter. We clean up. Give them the dignity they deserve. And then we take care of the rat.”

No other words were needed. They moved in silence, worked in harmony, all in respect of the lost lives, until all of them had been put to rest, with a farewell and a prayer.

---

The moment they returned, Emberchain's HQ felt like a tomb. The lights buzzed overhead, harsh and cold.

Leander silently set some teacups on the table, ignoring Riven's glare that was clearly trying to tell him this wasn't the time for sipping tea. But Leander ignored him, sitting down next to Eiran.

“Tonight we failed,” Kael's voice announced gravely.

“We knew there was a chance for a setup... But we didn't take into account... this possible outcome. This was my fault. I was too blind.”

Riven scoffed, sharp and bitter. “Blind? You call this ‘blind’? You let that filthy rat feed us stories, and we swallowed them like starved pups.”

Montclair exhaled shakily, rubbing his temples. “We can't afford to splinter now. We—”

“Spare me the pretty speeches, Montclair,” Riven snapped, his wings flaring slightly. “Those kids died because we trusted too much.”

Thalen shuddered, big hands curling into fists. “Please... Stop...” His voice cracked at the edges, barely holding together.

Eiran’s voice cut through the room like a blade. “Enough.”

He pushed himself upright, shoulders squared, mismatched eyes burning into Kael. “You stand here taking the blame and yet nothing ever changes. We keep waiting for your perfect plans. Your safe moves. Meanwhile, they slaughter us, slaughter them, without hesitation.”

Kael bared his teeth, claws scraping the edge of the table. “We can’t just move on emotion, Eiran. We can’t throw everyone’s lives away on a single reckless charge.”

Eiran’s voice rose, cold and sharp. “Reckless? So you think running in circles planning is better? Watching them turn into corpses while you plan is cowardice!”

Kael surged forward, nose to nose. “I have kept us alive this long! I will not apologize for protecting what remains of us.”

Eiran snarled. “What remains? We’re scavenging scraps of hope while they mount our kin like trophies.”

A heavy silence stretched, the air electric, charged with grief and rage.

Thalen sniffled, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can we... not fight? Not tonight...”

Riven’s golden eyes darted between them, uncharacteristically quiet.

Montclair finally spoke, voice tight. “The informant is waiting. We caught him because of your system, Eiran. We all played a part. Now we act.”

Eiran glared, chest heaving. “Then let’s act. But after this, we move to the zoo. We go for my sister. Before I find her like we found them tonight. I will not wait another day while she rots in a cage.”

Silence fell again, every breath thick as smoke.

Leander finally pushed away from the table, standing fluidly. “Enough. We finish what was started tonight. The rat first. Then we discuss the zoo.”

---

The interrogation room stank of sweat, blood, and cheap soap that couldn't wash away all of the stains.

They dragged the informant in, shoving him into a chair, his face pale, eyes wide.

“Talk,” Kael hissed.

The informant choked out a weak laugh. “They told me they wouldn’t hurt them! Just... just sell them! They’d be better off as pets than starving in the alleys—”

Eiran lunged forward, horn almost catching the man’s jaw. “Better off? You think cages are better?! You think leashes and choke chains are better?!”

Thalen’s voice boomed, unexpectedly deep and shaking. “They were children! They needed help, not new owners!”

The informant’s eyes darted to Leander. “I... I was trying to help! I swear! Demi-humans are animals, they... they need care, they need to be owned!”

Something snapped. Memories of the past that should have stayed buried—chains, hot blades, the pain. It all flooded back.

Leander moved in a blur, yanking the man forward by his collar. The informant barely had time to scream before Leander slammed him against the floor.

He drew the small blade, gleaming, immaculate.

Eiran grabbed Kael’s arm to stop him from intervening. Riven’s coin fell silent on the tiles. Thalen froze, hands half-reaching forward, unable to move.

Leander’s face was a mask of terrifying calm. “You thought they’d be safe? Better off?” His voice was soft, almost tender, but each word was a dagger.

The informant sobbed, fingers clawing at the floor. “Please! I was trying to—”

Leander silenced him with a slow, surgical slash across the cheek. Blood dripped, dark and steady.

“No,” he whispered. “You were selling them for coin, all while patting their heads.”

The informant shrieked, trying to crawl away. Leander pinned him easily, blade gliding under ribs, up to the sternum.

Leander’s voice came soft, deceptively tender. “Do you know what it feels like to be leashed? To be taught to sit and heel and beg for scraps?”

The blade pressed to his neck, not slicing, not yet. “They gave me a pink collar,” he whispered, eyes distant. “I was always so obedient. Until I wasn’t.”

Leander worked with slow, methodical precision, each cut exact, each movement almost ritualistic. But there was no pleasure in it. His eyes were flat, distant, as if he weren’t fully present.

When the informant finally fell limp, Leander stood, breathing shallow. His hands, dripping red, were terrifyingly steady.

Silence.

Leander turned to face the rest of the Emberchain members, voice steady and low. “He will not betray us again.”

Kael nodded once, not saying a word, but acknowledging why Leander had done it that way.

Riven slid down against the wall, wings trembling violently. “Fuck, bunny... remind me never to piss you off.”

Leander turned, walking out of the room without another word. As he passed Thalen, his hand ghosted over the bear’s shoulder, but finally retracted it as he noticed the blood still on them.

“I'll be in the infirmary if anyone needs me,” the cold voice resonated in the empty hallway as he disappeared in the dark.

---

The infirmary reeked of copper and disinfectant, a thin veil over the perpetual scent of blood and metal that clung to Emberchain’s walls.

Leander was sitting on an old infirmary bed, the springs creaking beneath him every time he moved. His gaze was on {{user}} as they meticulously disinfected his wound. He hadn't even noticed it, the pain was inexistent. Years and years of torture ever since he was a kid had numbed him.

He remained silent, his eyes fixed on {{user}}. He hadn't replied to their questions, he hadn't explained himself. He had just showed them his hand, as if that explained anything at all.

His fingers flexed slightly as {{user}}'s grazed his skin, soft. As if they didn’t even belong in that place that only knew pain, blood, and disappointment.

The light overhead flickered. Leander barely blinked as flashes of that night flickered in his head with the same rhythm of the light. The tiny corpses on the ground, so still, cold. It reminded him how no one got mercy, how no one was spared. Not even innocents. Just like him, so many years ago. He tried to tell himself that at least they died before getting tortured, but the thought was so ugly that it made him close his hand in a fist until his knuckles became white.

The pain barely registered as the gauze filled with blood again.

"Sorry..." just a mumble, as he watched {{user}} change it again.

He watched the way they moved. Quiet. Focused. Their hands unshaken, even as blood, his blood, soaked into the gauze. There was something in that calm, something that settled beneath his skin before he could stop it. A kind of stillness he hadn’t felt in a long time. He spent more time than he should have in the infirmary, saying he needed to know more than how to disinfect a wound and apply a band-aid. He would never say he liked it. That the smell of blood mixed with {{user}}'s presence made him feel... almost home.

The bandage was nearly finished when he shifted.

Not much, just enough to draw {{user}} a fraction closer. Then, without warning, his hand came up, light against their side. He pulled them in by the waist, slow but with no space for refusal, until they stood between his knees. His other hand braced at their back. Then, deliberately, he let his head fall to their shoulder.

A long pause.

His voice was quiet, low enough that it barely reached the air between them.

“Just give me a moment. Don't ask.”

And he stayed there, unmoving. The world outside kept breathing, cold and sharp. But here, in this narrow piece of quiet, he could finally let go of the weight for a second longer.

"You are... so immaculate. So untainted..." his grip tightened, "... You make me want to... protect you. And then ruin you with my hands. It's... unnerving."