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Chapter One: Snow on Alabaster Island

Chapter Two: The Cap and The Hisuian Zoroark

Chapter Three: The Mask

Days Earlier....

A soft, steady snow falls down across the Hisui plain, turning every rock and pine into something muffled and patient. Rei walked the narrow path in Alabaster Island, shoulders hunched against the weather, breath puffing white in front of him. The world around him moved slowly.

“Why was I given this mission again?” he muttered, sarcasm brittle at the edges of his voice. His cheeks had begun to bloom pink from the cold. “Oh, right, because Akari’s busy chasing those outbreaks for Mai. She didn’t finish Professor Laventon’s board. Typical.”

He tugged his scarf up and scowled at the small parchment in his hand, its ink smudged by cold. According to the notes, this should be the last of Laventon’s request: a Zoroark mask buried in a cave under the snow on Alabaster. The map suggested a hollow on the island’s northern flank. Rei had walked miles already, the soles of his shoes numb from the chill, but pride warmed him with the thought of returning with the relic to the professor.

He didn’t notice the way the path narrowed until his foot punched through a crust that wasn’t there before. The snow gave beneath him, quiet betrayal. Rei’s surprised shout shredded the winter hush as he slid and tumbled into a hidden hollow. The fall ended on a rush of powder that broke the worst of the impact, but the breath knocked from his lungs left him blinking up at a narrow ceiling of white.

“Ouch,” he said, hand fumbling for his head before he realized his cap had sailed off in the tumble. He pressed fingers to the ache at his temple and took a shallow, grateful breath. For a long second, all he could hear was the soft pan of snow settling. “Good thing the snow broke my fall,” he said as something bright white caught his eye: a mask cradled among snow. It was the thing he’d come for, a carved face of Zoroark in pale wood painted white, with yellow and reddish pink accents. Relief and a small flush of victory unfurled in his chest.

“Found it!” Rei grinned and lunged, hands closing around the mask as if claiming a warm prize. He tested its weight, smiled, and reached for his cap. The cave felt like a brief, private world. He imagined the walk back to Jubilife already, the smug retort he’d deliver to Akari for leaving Professor Laventon’s board half unfinished.

The cap fit in his grip again, and everything felt like it would right itself when he climbed out.

Rei climbed up, mask in one hand, as he placed his cap on top of his head. The wind pressed in, and his breath fogged. He paused half atop the lip of the hole, turning the mask to examine the carved muzzle. It looked both beautiful and dangerous, like a thing worn by hunters in stories.

He smirked despite himself. “Good thing it was down there, fewer wild Pokémon to worry about.” A curiosity nudged at him. “But why does Professor Laventon want this mask? Part of his research, maybe?” The carved mask looked equal parts frightening and fascinating.

Impulsively, Rei told himself it wouldn’t hurt to try it on; he was out here alone, after all. He nudged his cap off and set it carefully in the snow so it wouldn’t brush the mask when he put it over his face.

The mask settled against his face more easily than he expected, the carved wood cool against his cheekbones. It didn’t cover his whole head, only the upper half, the way the sculpted muzzle tipped above his nose. He leaned back on his heels and squinted.

“Hmph. Hard to see,” he said, half satisfied. “I’ll take this off and—

Panic flared like a thin, sharp lightning when his fingers found nothing to grip. The rim of the mask refused to budge. What had felt like a toy a moment ago became a trap. Rei frowned and tugged harder, both hands working at the edge, but the carved wood stuck to his skin as if glued. “I—I can’t take it off!” he blurted, the first real fear in his tone. His breath quickened. He tried again, more frantic, his palms sweating despite the cold.

At first, it was odd, a twitching at the tips of his ears. Rei froze and looked up at the sky as if it might explain itself. Then the twitch became a prickle that crawled over his scalp and eased into a spreading warmth. Gray thin fur shot up along his temples. His hands contracted into something narrower. His fingertips thinned and lengthened and felt wrong under the skin. His heart hammered against his ribs with a new panic.

The seam of his scarf gave way with a soft rip as a collar of white fur swelled where his neck met his shoulder. Rei’s breath hitched, a hot, painful hiss as his jaw pulled tight and something like pressure pushed from the inside of his mouth. He opened his mouth to scream, and the sound that tore out was not a human cry but a struggling noise that scraped his throat. He could feel his front teeth lengthen, tighten, sharpen. His face pushed forward, skin tightening into a muzzle that matched the carved wooden piece still fused to his brow. The world narrowed to the burning ache of his transformation and the rough rasp of fabric straining under the work of his body reshaping itself.

He dropped to all fours because it felt necessary and natural. After all, the design of his body had chosen a new plan. Pants split with a rip as limbs reconfigured. Shoes tore away from feet that were growing sloped and clawed. Rei’s hair bled from black to white with streaks of rust-red, falling in tufts as coarse gray fur took its place. The sensation of balance changed.

When at last the mask slid free. Rei’s reflection in a shard of ice would have been unrecognizable: a Hisuian Zoroark’s silhouette hunched low, hands tipped with claws, eyes a startling blue with a ring of yellow light. He tried to form words and found instead an inhuman bark. Tears cut chilled tracks across the fur of his cheeks. Memory was fogged and snatched. His earlier laughter at Akari’s supposed sloppiness flickered like images from another life. He tasted iron and salt and the cold that had already become familiar.

“What did it do to me…” he breathed, voice ragged but at the same time inhuman, and couldn’t tell whether his hands or claws were shaking from fear or from the raw newness of muscle learning old motions.

From far off, voices drifted over the white plain, two Pearl Clan members calling, their voices urgent and brittle with the wind. “Rei! It’s getting worse, come back! A storm’s coming!”

The sound landed in Rei’s new ears like thunder. He turned, wiping a forepaw against his muzzle in a confused gesture made awkward by new limbs. Motion caught the strangers’ attention, and they walked towards the ridge where Rei sat.

As they neared, the sight of Rei, now a Zoroark, their reaction was instantaneous and loud. “It’s a Zoroark!” one of them screamed, and not waiting to think, they both turned and ran, scrambling down the path in a panic.

Rei tried to lift himself up on two legs. But the motion was clumsy. He stumbled like a child learning to use a new pair of shoes and then fell, the landing a cold, humiliating sprawl. The two Pearl Clan members had already fled half a field away when Rei’s panic mounted. He instinctively shouted for them to wait, to say he was Rei, but the new shape of his throat betrayed him. A deep, inhuman roar ripped out and rolled away over the plain. He froze. His claws trembled, his chest heaved.

“Am I… really a Zoroark?” he whispered to no one, the words jagged and fragile in the teeth of the wind. He had the mask at his feet now, smaller and absurd after its monstrous work. The scream of the fleeing villagers faded into the falling snow, and Rei sat shuddering, hardly recognizing his own hands as they curled around claws.

The storm loomed on the horizon as Rei stayed crouched, images flashing through his mind: Akari’s scolding laugh, Professor Laventon’s precise handwriting, the warm bustle of Jubilife. He tried to call for Akari, but the sound he made was raw and unfamiliar. He stared at the mask again, anger and fear went through him; questions pressed into the cold air: How long will this last? Is this change reversible?

Rei ducked into the cave to escape the storm, unsteady on his legs, still learning his new form, where the cursed mask once was. He curled up with his paws drawn close, feeling the weird hush of the hollow press against him, and wondered bitterly whether anyone would believe the truth if he crawled back to Jubilife and tried to explain. He ached to be human again and imagined jabbing a finger at Akari’s shoulder to demand why she’d left the board unattended and sent him out to fetch relics alone in a storm.

He closed his eyes against the coming storm, a single tear frozen at the corner of his cheek.

Chapter Four: The Mask's Grip

Back to the present time...

“Rei?” Akari’s voice came out small, weak with disbelief. The creature before her, tall, furred, and holding Rei’s red cap like a talisman, lifted its head. Its blue-yellow eyes caught the dim light and held a trembling hope that looked painfully like wanting to be recognized. The Zoroark’s muzzle eased into a gentle expression, and it pressed the cap closer to its chest.

The Arceus Phone’s mission notice still glowed on her hand like proof: Mission Accomplished. She let that small, impossible certainty hold her steady. If the world had declared Rei found, then the creature in front of her had to be Rei in some form.

“How—how could this happen?” Her tone sharpened, more angry than scared, the way she sounded when confronted with a problem that needed fixing and someone had left the instructions half-finished.

Rei, through the Zoroark’s posture, looked away toward a half-buried curve of carved wood in the snow. The mask lay where he had dropped it, frost collecting in the carved grooves like tiny stars. He shuffled forward and stopped a few paces from it, body tense and reluctant. The sight of the mask brought a low snarl from his throat, raw with memory.

Akari followed suit, fingers wrapped around the scarf at her throat. She reached the mask first and scooped it out with deliberate, careful hands, cradling the artifact as in awe as she would hold any research specimen. The craftsmanship was finer up close: razor-fur lines carved with a steady hand. It was beautiful, dangerous, and wrong in the way a thing that changes people should be.

Rei watched every motion. The snarl softened to a cautious, possessive growl when Akari lifted the mask. He leaned forward just enough to bare teeth in warning, not at her but at the object, as if its presence still tasted of betrayal.

Akari turned back to Rei while holding the mask. “Why were you here on Alabaster?” she demanded. “You finished Professor Laventon’s board...why come alone?”

Rei cocked his head in that familiar way that he used to do to show sarcasm, and then he tried to answer. The sound that came was a web of hisuian roars and muffled syllables, attempts shaped by a throat that was no longer entirely human. He jabbed a claw at his chest, then pointed in her direction. Frustrated, he bit his tongue and stamped the ground.

Akari watched him with something like fond confusion. She remembered, like a flash, how she’d neglected a handful of the board’s smaller tasks; how Rei had always finished her part in return. The realization landed softly and guilty.

She let out a helpless giggle, then said, “My bad. I really did forget to finish mine.” It came out clumsy and genuine. Rei huffed, irritated.

Akari’s voice cracked through the cold. “Well, you shouldn’t be wearing mysterious items! Why would you even put it on?” Her frustration was sharp, but beneath it trembled real worry. “You’re even more careful than I am…” she added, her tone softening as her eyes searched Rei’s Zoroark form for the boy she knew. Rei looked down at her, surprised. His ears twitched, and for a moment, he almost nodded. It was unlike him to act on impulse, especially alone, especially in a place like Alabaster. Akari’s words struck true. Even he couldn’t explain why he’d worn the mask. Maybe it had been curiosity.

Maybe something deeper.

Akari still held the Zoroark mask in her hands, inspecting its eerie craftsmanship. The carved muzzle, the painted eyes. As she turned it slightly, the mask’s eyes pulsed with a sudden glow, faint but unmistakable.

Rei’s head snapped toward it. His own eyes flared red for a heartbeat, and he staggered back with a sharp snarl. Claws flew to his temples as pain surged through him like a spike. He groaned, then roared, stumbling away from Akari as if the mask’s presence burned him.

Akari gasped, frozen for a moment by the sight of Rei, her friend, writhing in agony. Then instinct took over. She dropped the mask into the snow and rushed toward him, forgetting entirely that he now towered over her in a monstrous form.

“Rei!” she cried, voice cracking. “Rei, what’s wrong?! What’s happening to you?!”

Rei snarled and thrashed, his body fighting something invisible. His claws dug into his temple, his breath came in ragged bursts, and his eyes flickered between red and blue. The mask lay nearby, its glow dimming as if retreating from the fight.

Akari reached him. She placed her hands on his furred shoulders, trying to steady him. “You’re okay,” she whispered, though her voice trembled. “You’re going to be okay.”

Rei’s growls softened. His claws loosened from his head. Slowly, painfully, he opened his eyes, half-lidded, exhausted, the red fading back to blue. Then, without a word, he collapsed forward with a heavy thud, sending a puff of snow into the air.

“Rei!” Akari shouted, dropping to her knees beside him. She shook his shoulders, her fingers trembling. “Rei, wake up! Please, you’ll be okay! You have to be!”

His breathing was shallow. His body, still Zoroark-shaped, twitched faintly. Akari leaned closer, her voice desperate now, calling his name over and over. Somewhere in the haze of unconsciousness, Rei heard her distant, muffled, like a memory echoing through fog.

The mask lay silent in the snow, its glow extinguished. But its presence lingered, heavy and ominous.

Akari didn’t care. She stayed by Rei’s side, shielding him from the cold, from the fear, from whatever had tried to take him again. She would not let him be lost, not to the mask, not to the silence.

And Rei, somewhere deep inside, held onto her voice like a lifeline.

Chapter Five: To The Tent

Akari kneeling beside Rei’s Zoroark form, her heart pounding louder than the wind outside. His body was still trembling faintly, claws twitching in the snow. She leaned in, hesitating only for a moment before pressing her ear gently to his muzzle. The fur was cold, but beneath it, yes, there it was. Breath. Slow, shallow, but steady.

She exhaled in relief and sat back. “While I can’t blame him,” she murmured to herself, “he must’ve gone through so much these past few days.” Her voice was soft, almost apologetic, as if trying to reassure both of them.

Rei looked asleep now, unconscious from exhaustion or the aftermath of whatever had just tried to take hold of him. His chest rose and fell in a rhythm that felt fragile but real. Akari stayed close, watching him with a protective gaze.

But now came the harder part....what to do next.

She couldn’t leave him here, not in the open, not with another storm rolling in. The snow was already thickening again, the wind picking up. She glanced at her satchel, knowing she had no Pokéballs left. Even if she did, trapping Rei like that felt wrong. He was still human inside, still her friend. She wouldn’t risk more damage than had already been done.

Carrying him was out of the question. He was easily twice her size now, all fur and muscle and unconscious weight. Her arms wouldn’t hold, and dragging him would only hurt him more.

There was only one option left.

Akari reached for her flute and played a short, clear note into the wind. The sound echoed across the snow, and within moments, a familiar silhouette appeared in the distance: Wyrdeer, her trusted companion.

Wyrdeer trotted up, eyes calm and wise, sensing the urgency in Akari’s posture. She stepped forward and gently gestured to Rei’s form. “Please,” she whispered, “I need your help. He’s… not himself. But he’s still Rei.”

Wyrdeer lowered his body without hesitation, allowing Akari to carefully maneuver Rei onto his back. It wasn’t easy; his limbs were heavy, his fur slick with snow. But with patience and care, she managed to secure him. Wyrdeer stood tall again, adjusting to the weight, and began the slow trek toward the nearest tent near the entrance of Alabaster Island.

Akari walked beside them, one hand on Rei’s shoulder to keep him steady, the other shielding her face from the wind. The storm was growing stronger, but they reached the tent just in time.

Inside, the tent was cold but dry. A straw bed lay in the corner, barely enough to count as comfort, but it would do. Akari gently eased Rei off Wyrdeer’s back, guiding his limp form onto the bedding. She brushed snow from his fur and sat down beside him, her own body trembling from the cold and stress.

The wind howled outside, rattling the tent. Akari knew she couldn’t leave, not with Rei like this, not with the storm so close. She would stay. She had to.

As Rei slept, Akari stared at him, her mind racing. How could she help him? She could go back to Jubilife and tell Professor Laventon everything, but what if Rei lost control again? What if the village panicked, saw only a Zoroark and not the boy inside? What if they tried to fight him?

She couldn’t risk it. Not yet.

Instead, she reached for her satchel and pulled out a small scroll and a piece of charcoal. She scribbled a brief, urgent, and honest message, explaining what had happened, where they were, and that Rei needed help. She tied the scroll to the leg of her Starly, who chirped softly and nuzzled her hand before flying off away from the storm.

Akari watched the bird disappear into the snow, her heart heavy with hope and fear.

“Please,” she whispered, “get there in time.”

She turned back to Rei, still sleeping, still breathing. She stayed close, guarding him from the cold, from the world, and from whatever might come next.

Time had no edges while Rei slept. He lost count of the small shudders that passed through his body beneath the fur, of the fogged memory of pain. When his eyes finally opened, the world was too bright and too small all at once. He blinked down at his hands and found fingers, human fingers that trembled as if afraid to believe what they saw.

He pressed both palms to his cheeks, felt cold skin, and a laugh broke through him, shaky and half-cry. Relief flooded so completely that he had to sit up slowly, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat be proof that the nightmare was over. He smiled until tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

Voices came then, many and urgent, drifting across the snow: footsteps, calls, the precise, worried cadence of people who knew him. Professor Laventon’s stiff, thoughtful voice; Captain Cyllene’s clipped commands; Akari’s breathless note of relief above the rest. Rei’s chest warmed at the sound. He pushed himself up, ready to stand and walk back to Jubilife, ready to explain, to rub the ache from his forehead and make a joke about stubborn relics.

Happiness set into motion until an itch flared along his forearms. He paused and lifted his hands, confused, and his smile crashed away. As his surroundings became dim.

Fingers had lengthened into claws. The skin along his arms whitened and rippled as if a tide were rolling over him. He clawed at them, bewildered and frantic. A cold, raw panic rose in his throat.

From the ridge, the villagers’ voices twisted into a single, sharp sound: alarm. Their faces when they saw him were a mirror of terror. “A Zoroark!” someone shouted, and people scattered, feet pounding over the snow as if whatever they feared might bite the world in two.

Rei’s mouth opened to shout, to call his name, to make them stop and listen. The sound that came out was not his voice. The jaw shifted, lips thinning; a muzzle stretched forward. Saliva flecked his teeth. His human plea “No, stop-“ was strangled into an animal roar.

No—stop—STOP! He thought, savage and clear and useless, and his hands, claws now, scratched at his own chest, at his face, as if scraping at a shell that had locked him inside. Tears tracked salt down fur and skin; the cold had nothing to do with it. He sank to his knees as the transformation completed, exhausted and raw and furious at the world that refused to recognize him.

Through the chorus of fear and the blur of retreating figures, one shape did not run. Akari moved toward him, unhurried and oddly small against the white. Her expression was that quiet, honest smile she wore when she wanted to show she was more curious than afraid.

“Rei?” she asked softly, stepping into the shallow windbreak where he knelt. Her voice trembled but carried no flight in it, only that steady concern Rei knew too well.

The sight of her should have been an anchor. Instead, something fragile inside him snapped. Rage flooded up, a reaction the mask had taught his body when instincts were all that mattered. He lunged without thinking, arms opening, claws bared, mouth drawn into a snarl that was not entirely his.

Akari’s scream sliced the air, high and shocked, and that sound cracked through the nightmare like a hammer. Rei gasped. The sound of her scream jolted a memory clean enough to wake him.

The remnants of his nightmare cling to him like frost. His body ached, but the pain was distant now, muted by exhaustion and the strange comfort of straw beneath him. The tent was quiet, dimly lit by the morning sun filtering through. No storm. No screaming. Just stillness.

Beside him, a small mountain of berries had been carefully arranged: Oran, Sitrus, Pecha, and a few rare ones he barely recognized. His stomach growled so loudly it startled him. Without hesitation, he lunged forward, grabbing a handful and biting into them with a mix of desperation and instinct. One, then another, then another. Sweet juice dribbled down his muzzle as he devoured the entire pile in under a minute.

Only when the last berry was gone did he pause, licking his claws and blinking at the empty space beside him. Akari was nowhere to be seen.

Rei stood slowly, testing his limbs. The Zoroark form no longer felt foreign; it was still strange, yes, but he had begun to understand its weight, its balance. He pushed aside the tent flap and stepped into the crisp morning air.

The sky was clear, the snow glittering under the sun. No storm in sight. He scanned the horizon and spotted two figures in the distance, Akari and Professor Laventon, deep in conversation. Without thinking, Rei began to walk toward them, his paws crunching softly against the snow.

Akari stood with her arms crossed, her brow furrowed. “Professor,” she asked, “why did you really want the Zoroark mask in the first place?”

Laventon blinked, clearly puzzled. “Mask? What mask? I never assigned a mission involving a mask.”

Akari’s eyes widened. “But… it was on the board. Rei said it was the last task.”

Laventon shook his head slowly. “I assure you, I never posted anything about a mask. That’s not part of my research.”

Rei froze mid-step, just behind the professor, ears twitching. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the words hit him like a gust of wind. His heart thudded. If Laventon hadn’t assigned the mission… then who had?

Akari turned and spotted Rei standing behind them. Her breath caught, and she stepped forward nervously. “Professor,” she said, voice tight, “this is the problem I was talking about.”

She gestured toward Rei. “This… this is Rei. He’s in Zoroark form.”

Laventon turned slowly, his eyes landing on the tall, furred figure with the familiar blue eyes. His mouth opened, but no words came out. He stared, stunned, as if trying to reconcile the creature before him with the boy he’d known.

Rei lowered his gaze, unsure whether to speak or run. The silence stretched, heavy and uncertain.

Akari stepped closer to Rei, placing a hand gently on his arm. “He’s still Rei,” she said quietly. “He’s just… changed.”

Professor Laventon is still too stunned to speak.

Professor Laventon stood frozen, eyes wide, mouth slightly parted as he stared up at Rei’s towering Zoroark form. The silence stretched awkwardly, thick with disbelief and unspoken questions.

Akari cleared her throat. “Um—Professor?”

Laventon blinked, snapping out of his daze. “Ah, yes. Apologies, Rei. I just… I thought Akari must have been exaggerating when she said you’d become a Zoroark. But now…” He trailed off, eyes scanning Rei from head to clawed toe. “It seems to be true.”

Rei shifted uncomfortably under the professor’s gaze, his ears twitching and his posture shrinking slightly. The scrutiny made him feel exposed, like a specimen under glass.

“Um, Rei…” Laventon asked gently, “Could I hear you speak?”

Rei’s throat tightened. He swallowed hard, but the sound that came out was a low, involuntary growl. He hated hearing himself like this, hated the way his voice had been replaced by something wild and unfamiliar.

“He can’t really speak, Professor,” Akari interjected, stepping forward. “He uses gestures. That’s how I figured out it was him. That, and the mask he was sent to retrieve… or rather, the one I was supposed to retrieve.”

Her voice faltered. She looked down, guilt pressing into her shoulders. “I should’ve done it myself. I didn’t think it was important. I didn’t think—” She stopped, biting her lip.

Laventon nodded slowly. “So it truly is Rei beneath the fur. But if this transformation revolves around the mask… may I see it?”

Akari reached for her satchel, fingers fumbling through the pockets. Her brows furrowed. Then her face fell. “Um… I don’t seem to have it, Professor.”

Rei’s head snapped toward her, eyes wide. He huffed sharply, a sound halfway between disbelief and frustration.

“I’m sorry, Rei,” Akari said, voice cracking. “I must’ve dropped it where I found you. I didn’t mean to—”

Rei’s emotions surged. He snarled, jaws snapping toward her—not to strike, but out of raw, unfiltered anger. The sound made Laventon flinch, stepping back instinctively.

Akari recoiled, stunned. Her eyes welled with frustration. “It’s okay! I’ll go back and look for the mask,” she snapped, her own voice rising. “So stop being angry at me, Rei!”

She threw her hands up, gesturing wildly, her emotions spilling out in sharp movements. Rei turned his head away, ears flattening, and stomped past both of them without a word, heading toward the direction where the mask had last been seen.

Akari sighed and turned to Laventon. “We’ll be right back, Professor. With the mask.”

Laventon nodded, concern etched into his features. “Stay safe, both of you.”

As Akari jogged to catch up with Rei, she watched him move his walk more fluid now, his claws no longer dragging. He was starting to adapt. Starting to understand this new body.

The wind picked up again, brushing snow across the trail. Akari pulled her scarf tighter and followed Rei into the unknown.

The snow crunched beneath their feet as Akari followed Rei through the quiet stretch of Alabaster. The storm had passed, leaving behind a pale sky and a brittle cold that clung to their clothes and fur. Rei moved with more confidence now, his Zoroark form no longer awkward, each step more fluid, more natural.

“Rei,” Akari said softly, her voice still tinged with guilt.

Rei’s ear twitched at the sound, but he didn’t stop.

“Are you… upset with me for leaving the mask behind?” she continued, her words slow and careful. “I was just so worried when you collapsed. I didn’t think twice, I just wanted to make sure you were okay and—”

She stopped mid-sentence as Rei halted ahead of her. He turned, his eyes meeting hers, not sharp or angry, but soft, understanding. His gaze held no blame, only quiet reassurance.

Akari blinked, surprised. “You’re… not mad?”

Rei gave a small huff and tilted his head, the gesture unmistakably him. It was enough to let her catch up, and they began walking side by side, the tension between them easing with each step.

As they traveled, the mood lightened. Akari teased Rei about his oversized paws, and Rei responded with exaggerated gestures, pretending to trip, flicking snow at her with his claws. Akari laughed, the sound echoing across the icy field.

“You’re lucky you’re still you,” she said with a grin. “Even if you’re covered in fur.”

Rei barked playfully, then nudged her shoulder with his muzzle. It was clumsy, but affectionate.

They walked like that for a while, two friends, changed but still tethered to each other.

Eventually, they reached the spot where Rei had collapsed. The snow was disturbed, a shallow crater marking where his body had hit the ground. Akari scanned the area and spotted the mask half-buried near a patch of frostbitten grass.

“There!” she shouted, breaking into a run.

She knelt and scooped it up, brushing snow from its carved surface. The mask’s eyes were dull now, no longer glowing, but it still radiated a strange weight.

Akari turned and waved it toward Rei. “See! We found it!” she said, beaming.

Rei’s ears flattened. His eyes narrowed.

Something was wrong.

A flicker in the air, dark, fast, and silent, raced toward Akari. A shadow ball, pulsing with ghostly energy, cut through the sky like a bullet.

Rei’s body moved before thought could catch up. He lunged forward, claws out, voice rising in a warning snarl.

Akari turned, her smile fading as her eyes caught the incoming attack.

But it was already too close.

The shadow ball struck with a deafening boom.

Snow exploded outward in a blinding flare, the shockwave launching both Rei and Akari down the slope in a tangled blur of limbs and ice. Rei hit the ground hard, rolling through the powder before digging his claws in and skidding to a stop. His breath came fast, his ears ringing.

Akari lay crumpled in the distance, her body half-buried in snow, clutching the Zoroark mask tightly to her chest. Rei’s heart seized. He bolted toward her just as another volley of shadow balls tore through the air.

He dove, scooping her up in both arms, and twisted mid-leap to dodge the incoming blasts. The snow behind them erupted again, but Rei didn’t stop. He sprinted, his body moving faster. Akari's arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he carried her through the storm of attacks.

Then, he skidded to a halt.

A pack of Zoroarks emerged from the trees, blocking their escape. They were nearly identical to Rei in height and build, their fur bristling, eyes glowing with eerie intelligence. The lead Zoroark stepped forward, its gaze locked on Rei.

“Drop the girl.”

The voice wasn’t spoken aloud; it echoed inside Rei’s skull, cold and commanding. Telepathy.

Rei snarled, his claws tightening around Akari protectively. “No!” he barked in Zoroark tongue.

The lead Zoroark tilted its head. “We won’t hurt her. We only want the mask.”

“Liar!” Rei snapped, his voice rising with fury. “You nearly killed her!”

Akari stirred in his arms, groaning softly. Blood streaked the side of her head. Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked through the haze, heart pounding as she saw Rei snarling at something, then turned her head and saw them. A dozen Zoroarks, surrounding them.

“What do you want?” Rei demanded, holding her tighter.

“The mask,” the lead Zoroark said without hesitation.

“Why?” Rei growled.

Another Zoroark stepped forward, its voice slithering into his mind. “So you can be one of us. Destroying it will complete the transformation.”

Rei’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think so.”

With a burst of speed, he dashed forward, weaving through the pack. Akari clung to him, stunned by how fast he moved, how sure his footing had become. But just as they neared the edge of the clearing, a claw slashed across Rei’s back.

He roared in pain, stumbling. Akari cried out as he twisted mid-fall, throwing her clear so she wouldn’t be crushed beneath him. She rolled through the snow, coming to a stop just in time to see Rei rise again, blood streaking his fur.

“Rei!” she shouted, panic in her voice.

“Run!” Rei roared, his voice raw and wild.

Akari, hearing him roar, understood, turned, and bolted, the mask clutched tightly in her arms. One of the Zoroarks lunged after her, but Rei was faster. He grabbed the attacker by the leg and yanked it back, slamming it into the snow.

Then the fight began.

Rei tore through the pack with fury and precision, his claws flashing, his body moving like instinct had taken over. He fought not just to survive, but to protect. Every time a Zoroark tried to break past him, he intercepted, throwing them down, snarling, biting, striking.

Akari ran, heart pounding, snow flying behind her as she crossed the icy waters and climbed the ridge toward camp. She didn’t look back. She couldn’t. She had to get help. She had to keep the mask safe.