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    Summary

    Eraserhead’s blood ran cold as villains poured into the arena through the portal. Four, a dozen, twenty. More and more flooded the ground in front of him, so many he lost count. The students, scents still milky and sweet from puphood, chattered worriedly behind him, Thirteen frozen at his side.

    Oh, god. What do I do? he thought desperately, barely keeping his hand off his belly. He couldn’t order Thirteen to fight all of those villains, especially not the monstrosity that came last. He couldn’t order the students to fight; they were pups, for gods sake, and completely untrained. The only thing he could do was fight. And pray to god that he could keep the pups and his pup safe.

    Language:
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