“You’re much more resilient than I expected,” Fleur drawled, leaning against the far wall. “I’d hoped you to stay down this time as least.”

Ule suppressed the fighting instinct that reared its ugly head and she stalked forwards towards the silver capsule that flashed different lights. It was some sort of analysis machine. “Why are you doing this?”

“What difference does it make?” Fleur growled and straightened, moving toward her with that feline grace which promised danger.

“Because,” Ule said, “I can’t understand why you’d betray us, betray Djin, try to kill him.”

“Life isn’t black and white, Ule, nothing is perfect, especially not being a monster like we are. That’s why Zan hid us all in Valkyrie, to keep us separated from the humans. He may seem like a saint in your eyes, but you haven’t known him, or any of them as long as I have. They’re not good people. They’ve all killed a number of times, innocent humans and not so innocent humans. Skin-changers are abnormalities that were considered failures in the eyes of science and too dangerous to leave in the public. The moment someone is suspected, they’re shipped off to Valkyrie to live out the remainder of their days doing the government's bidding.”

As the lion-hybrid spoke, her voice became deeper and deeper and the slanting of her pupils narrowed. “This is a curse, upon us, and everyone else. Because of this, my daughter died.”

Ule gasped inwardly but maintained her cool composure. “So you’d kill every single Skin-changer, even the innocent ones out in the world. Because of your own misfortune?”

“You don’t understand,” Fleur looked pained as she shook her golden locks. “This has to stop. We’re not meant to be on this Earth, not me, not Djin and not Valkyrie. These people will end it all. It’s almost over.”

She’d stopped talking to Ule and was speaking to the room, her body trembling and she let out a low whine and a sharp scream. It sounded like an eagle. It sounded like Ule, who leaped back as two great deformed black wings erupted from Fleur. They mimicked the ones that had been cut from Ule and a sick feeling seeped into her stomach alongside a prickling in her back.

“What did you let them do?”

“It doesn’t matter, not anymore,” Fleur’s voice was garbled, wet and pained, but she let out that strange roaring cry and attacked.

The new appendages flapped around wildly and hindered her immensely, giving Ule the upper hand almost instantly. They met in a rabid clawing hug, talons against claws, Ule felt her skin being sliced open and then knit back together. She grunted and reached around, grasping the base of the wing where it broke through Fleur’s back. It was slippery with blood and she gritted her teeth against the sting of a claw against her hipbone, feeling her shirt rip. She angled her hand and her talon sliced easily through the flesh, hindered only slightly by the back of her ribcage.

Squealing in pain, Fleur struggling, fighting to get free, bashing Ule in the jaw and knocking her head back sharply. It was enough of a pause for the mutated woman to tear away and put a few feet between them. Both wings hung low, useless through her own lack of knowledge of how to use them. She shivered and her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath.

“You’re going to die,” Ule hissed, narrowing her eyes and changing her stance, rolling her shoulders as her body finished mending. “Give me the vials and I’ll just leave.”

Fleur’s mouth opened to a red tinted smile. “I’ll die no matter what happens,” she breathed in a rattling breath. “But I can at least take you with me!”

Her cry was ferocious as they clashed again, hot ragged breaths and scrabbling claws. There was no technique, no style, it was a simple kill-or-be-killed and Ule took the first opening she found, wreathing her arm around Fleur’s thick neck and dropping all her weight to the ground, sending them both to the stone. Fleur gurgled as she fought, but Ule strained and dragged Fleur onto her back, straddling her waist and pulling up with her arm, holding her in a dangerous chokehold.

Fleur’s thorn-like claws bit into her forearm and the wings beat weakly, but Ule held. She flexed her muscle, snarling low in the back of her throat, inching her way up until—

“Enough, let her go,” The voice was of the man that always seemed to show up when she least expected it, Ule relaxed the pressure, but didn’t release Fleur as she looked to Zanzibarr.

He was spattered in red, his hair windswept and his eyes bright with a wild look. He practically seethed a pseudo-calm, but there was something wicked and cruel about those eyes that make a tendril of fear slither along Ule’s spine. “But she…”

“You’re not a killer, Ule, let her go, I was the one that let her into Valkyrie, it was my mistake for not noticing this, it’s my job to end it.”

There was no slack for argument in his tone and Ule let out the breath she held, slowly uncurling her arm and climbing off Fleur.

“Take the vials and wait for me outside,” Zanzibarr’s eyes were alight with fire as Ule obeyed his commands.

He was within a foot of Fleur when Ule glanced over her should, clutching the canisters to her chest. She saw the way Fleur gazed up at him like she was ready for his judgment and then the door closed and the soundproof walls closed them off.

Ule stood there a long second, then steadied herself, knowing full well that Zanzibarr would meet her as he said. There was something scary about him, but she knew that is was probably due to the animal he was spliced with. The Tasmanian Devil that killed its target with vile ease. This was the first time she’d seen him like that, which made it even more frightful.

She climbed the stairs, walking through the halls, aware that she and Zanzibarr were the only two creatures breathing in the entire complex. The smell of blood hit her every few corridors and she kept her eyes forward. Her eyes itched with unshed tears and she didn’t know whether it was due to relief or terror. Probably a bit of both. But it was over.

Ule waited quietly on the stone yard staring at the corpse of a hound. A swarm of flies was investigating it loudly and she wished she could shut off her oversensitive ears. The sky was painted with ribbons of red and orange and the ground smelled of day-old rain as the sun fell over the tree tops. One day had passed since she’d entered the hell-hole, which made her shiver. Only one day and everything had changed. Ule shifted her weight from foot to foot, still holding the canisters.

The tingling in her back intensified and she frowned. Are they…? Wings of glorious black feathers, each over ten feet in length skimmed over her shoulders as they stretched to their full span. Now, they were tears of relief and Ule wrapped herself in them, reveling in their tickling warmth. They were a part of her, something she’d learned to accept and learned to love and the thought of being without them had been almost as horrible as the pain of them being removed.

“We should get home,” Zanzibarr’s sudden presence caused her to jump and scowl, momentarily forgetting where he’d been and what he’d just been doing.

Ule nodded, watching him approach her warily. He seemed to know her thoughts and he held out a hand for her to give him the canister. “We all have our roles in this world and they aren’t always that pretty in reality.”

Watching him gingerly take the canister made Ule close her eyes for a heartbeat. “The world isn’t black and white, that’s what Fleur said.”

“That is true, but knowing how to tell what color it actually is would make it too predictable and life isn’t meant to be understood. We just live to the best of our abilities and in the case of use, those abilities are not average.”

“And that’s that?”

Zanzibarr looked back, over the facility that looked so normal, even as it sat entombing dozens of people. “Groups like this have threatened Valkyrie numerous times. It’ll be swept under the rug and that’ll be that. So, let’s go home. Djin will be needing support.”

“He’s alive?” Ule’s heart skipped a beat and her stomach flipped.

“I’m not so stupid as to create a poison without an antidote, but I only had one, so, this needs to be tucked away.”

“Or destroyed,” Ule offered.

“Perhaps.”

Without another look at the place they’d been, Ule took to the air, feeling a streak of glee at the power of her wings and the rush of the wind. Zanzibarr sat astride her, tiny in comparison. Ule stared down at the ground as it blurred beneath them. Every detail was sharp, every leaf, branch, and flower were bright and vibrant in the soft watery sunlight. She could feel Zanzibarr’s slight weight resting between her wings, nestled into her feathers against the chill of the clouds and the wind.

“Do you think we’re monsters?” The words were hissing whispers slipping through Zanzibarr’s skull as Ule spoke.

He shifted, knowing full well Fleur had said much more than she should have. “No.”

“Simple as that?”

“Well, what do you think? Are we monsters?” Zanzibar asked.

Ule gave another mighty thrust of her wings, feeling the muscles tremble and pull. “I want to say no, but, in my heart. I know I am.”