The base was unusually quiet in the early morning hours. Only the distant thrum of ventilation units and the occasional footsteps of patrolling agents echoed through the dimly lit corridors. Mia sat alone in her assigned room, cross-legged on the bunk, her hands resting lightly on her lap.
Sleep had been brief—fitful, even—but she hadn't minded. Not with the warm thrum still resonating within her chest.
Evolution Heart Tier 2.
She closed her eyes and reached inward. As before, the glowing seed hovered at the center of her mindscape, but now it had changed. It had bloomed slightly, threads of golden light stretching out from its core like vines. When she focused, another screen shimmered into view, lines of text scrolling elegantly across the surface.
[Evolution Heart – Tier 2]
Passive Ability: Beast Soothing Aura – At close proximity, your presence reduces fear, anxiety, and aggression in uncontracted beasts.
New Ability Unlocked: Empathic Catalyst – You can subtly influence and guide the natural evolution of nearby beasts, even if they are not contracted to you.
Note: Catalyst effect is more effective on young, injured, or emotionally bonded beasts.
Effect Radius: 5 meters.
Mia stared, stunned.
"Wait… I can help other people's beasts evolve?"
It made sense, in a way. She'd felt it during the rescue—the baby thunder elk calming in her arms, the way the cave bear relaxed when she approached, the natural trust they showed her. She hadn't considered it more than a coincidence or the result of good instincts.
But this was real.
She wasn't just a Beast Tamer anymore. She was… something more. A guide. A caretaker. Maybe even a nurturer of potential.
Her thoughts raced as the pieces clicked together.
A breeding and training farm.
Not like the underground horrors the syndicate ran, but a real, legal, well-regulated sanctuary. Government-sanctioned beast farms were few and far between—most required layers of inspection, certified tamers, healing staff, habitat designers, and most importantly, time and money. They were safe places where young or endangered beasts were bred, nurtured, and released back into the wild or adopted by licensed tamers.
And with her Evolution Heart, she could help baby beasts grow stronger, evolve faster, and do so naturally. No expensive supplements. No unethical forcing. Just… empathy and care.
Combine that with Professor Hootsworth's encyclopedic knowledge of beast biology and behavior, and it felt like a perfect plan.
A little smile crept onto her face. She could picture it already—a sprawling field outside the city, wide open enclosures, natural habitats, young beasts roaming safely. Hootsworth in a rocking chair with a pipe, lecturing squirrel cubs about tail posture. Nutmeg teaching tiny beasts how to punch without falling over.
It would be peaceful. Honest. Something that gave back to the world.
Then the other shoe dropped.
"Right… the cost."
Her smile faded.
She'd done enough reading to know how expensive just the land permit was, let alone the startup costs for infrastructure, licensing, legal inspections, government compliance, vet services… the list went on. And then there was the bureaucratic nightmare of getting approved as a Tier 1 breeding facility. A standard application took anywhere from six months to two years.
Mia groaned and flopped back onto her pillow.
"A dream for later, maybe…"
Still, it was something to strive for. Something beyond competitions and battles. A future where she wasn't just fighting to survive, but building something.
Her thoughts wandered to her current dilemma—her own team.
She only had two beasts currently. Professor Hootsworth and Nutmeg had grown immensely, but she still had two empty slots in her contract limit. With the City-Level Competition just a couple of months away, she couldn't afford to wait much longer.
And while the thunder elk had tugged at her heartstrings during the rescue, she knew the moment he'd reunited with his herd that he belonged there.
She didn't want to take him away from his family.
But there was another.
Another beast she'd helped during the raid—one that had stayed in her thoughts even more than the elk.
A green, serpentine creature with sleek scales and small silver horns. It had been curled up in the corner of a cage, too weak to hiss, its body coiled protectively around two shattered eggs. One had been cracked beyond recovery, the other still warm.
She hadn't seen the beast fight or growl. It had only watched her with luminous golden eyes, trusting and tired.
She remembered laying a hand on its head, whispering softly. The way its coils loosened slightly, its eyelids fluttering shut as it let go of tension for the first time.
She didn't even know its name.
But she couldn't get it out of her mind.
"Tomorrow," she whispered to herself. "I'll go see it first thing."
With that promise, Mia rolled onto her side, a faint smile tugging at her lips, and finally let sleep take her.
The next morning, the moment she finished her breakfast and freshened up, Mia sprinted straight toward the medical wing. The agents shadowing her didn't bother to follow at full speed—they knew her destination.
She passed two beast care nurses, nodded at a medic, and pushed through the final door into the observation ward.
There it was.
Coiled on a sunlit stone slab, its body glimmering with emerald and jade, lay the serpentine beast. It was still weak, bandages wrapped around part of its midsection, but its eyes were open—watching her as she entered.
Mia's face broke into a bright smile.
"There you are," she said softly, approaching with careful steps.
The beast raised its head just slightly. The tips of its silver horns gleamed under the filtered light, and a faint hissing breath escaped its throat—not a warning, but something more like recognition.
Mia reached the edge of the enclosure and knelt down. "Hey. I was hoping you'd still be here."
It tilted its head and flicked its forked tongue, the movement slow and deliberate.
"I'm sorry about your eggs," she whispered. "But I'm glad you made it."
She didn't know how to explain it. Maybe it was her Evolution Heart reacting. Maybe it was just instinct. But she felt drawn to this creature—not as a rescuer or caretaker, but as a partner.
She pressed her hand to the glass panel.
"I don't know what kind of beast you are yet. Or how strong. Or if you'll ever want to be contracted to someone like me."
The beast blinked slowly.
"But if you do… I'd be honored."
A long silence followed. Then, with a soft rustling motion, the serpent slithered closer, curling up against the glass where her hand rested.
Mia's chest ached in the best way possible.
She had her answer.
Not today. Not this moment. But soon.
This was the one.
Her third beast.