Ren sprinted through the cave corridor, his steps swift and steady. It didn’t take long for him to reach the mouth of the base—and what he saw instantly put him on alert.
Bella, the female Penal Tiger, stood tense, her fur bristling with unease. Around her, her three cubs looked anxious. Their ears were folded back, and their tails curled forward—a sign of emotional distress. Their breaths were heavy, as if they had run a great distance.
"Hey... what’s going on?" Ren asked, his voice calm, trying to stabilize the atmosphere even though a knot of worry had begun to form in his chest. He stepped closer to Bella and placed a hand on her large head, gently stroking her fur.
Bella let out a low grunt, then turned her gaze toward the forest. She began walking, her tail swaying occasionally, as if signaling Ren to follow her.
Ren glanced back for a moment—toward the three Kitsune children standing at the cave entrance, their faces filled with worry.
"Stay here, okay? Don’t go anywhere," he said softly.
They nodded obediently, though their unease was still clear in their eyes.
Ren quickly followed Bella into the damp forest. Morning light had yet to fully pierce through the canopy, and the lingering chill of night still clung to the air of the Penal woods. Their steps were fast, but deliberate, until Bella finally stopped beside a large tree with thick roots crawling over the forest floor.
Ren narrowed his eyes, focusing on the tree’s bark, which had been scratched in a rough pattern. At first, it looked like claw marks. But as he looked closer, he realized the marks formed letters. Crude writing—handwritten, but not by any ordinary human. He had to squint and piece the message together carefully:
"If you want the striped one alive, come to the arena. Bring the Miko. On the night of the full moon. – T."
Ren exhaled deeply, his expression hardening.
"So he really did capture Alfred..."
Bella growled low behind him, the sound deep, rumbling through the earth beneath their feet. Ren turned and met the sharp eyes of the tigress. Slowly, Bella stepped closer and pressed her head into his hand—not in aggression, but in plea.
A plea that needed no words.
"I understand," Ren murmured, eyes fixed forward.
He stroked Bella’s head again, this time with firm resolve.
"I’ll bring him back. No matter what it takes."
Bella stared into his eyes, then gave a small nod—a subtle motion, but heavy with meaning.
"Come on. Let’s head back for now. I need time to prepare."
They turned and retraced their steps through the woods, back toward the base. And within Ren’s heart... a plan for retaliation had already begun to take shape.
Ren rushed back into the cave, steps quick and determined. The mountain chill from Penal snaked into his chest cavity, tightening around his thoughts with relentless pressure. As soon as he entered the main chamber of the base, he called after his AI.
"Ultro. We need to talk."
[I’m listening, Master.]
Ren collapsed into his worn work chair and buried his face in his hands. "I found a message from Trek," he said, exhausted. "He captured Alfred. And... he mentioned something about a ’Miko.’ Can you explain why?"
[My apologies, Master. I failed to detect enemy movement last night. Primary sensors did not pick up any significant activity around the perimeter.]
Ren shook his head rapidly. "Not your fault. I was too relaxed. I thought because we’re deep in the forest, behind cliffs and valleys, they couldn’t find us. Clearly I was wrong."
He stood and paced several steps, choosing his words carefully. "The problem now is... Trek mentions a ’Miko.’ He worships Gorthar, the god of war. It makes no sense for a Miko to be associated with a cult like that."
[In Earth’s references, ’Miko’ is a young Shinto priestess. Usually linked with purity and devotion to deities.]
Ren halted mid‑step. "I know that basic meaning, Ultro. But this world’s religious system doesn’t align with that. And if there is an actual Miko in the city of Eks, she should be under heavy protection—not hunted by Trek as a target."
He bowed his head in frustration. "What’s even more maddening... I have no idea who—or where—this Miko actually is."
As the words left his lips, soft footsteps echoed from behind. Ren spun around, alert.
The eldest Kitsune girl stood hesitantly in the doorway, her small frame nearly swallowed by the stone shadows. Her eyes met Ren’s—fearless, though visibly trembling.
"I’m sorry, Sir... I overheard your conversation with Ultro."
Ren softened. He drew near and knelt so they were eye‑to‑eye. "It’s okay. Have you had breakfast? Ultro?"
[Breakfast has been prepared. Today’s menu: a full English breakfast—eggs, meat, and toast.]
But the girl didn’t answer. Instead, she spoke softly, but distinctly.
"The one they refer to as Miko... that’s me."
Ren stared at her, hardly able to believe what he’d just heard. "What?"
With shaking hands, she opened her collar, revealing a birthmark of three interlocking discs in the pattern of a mitsudomoe—an ancient symbol often tied to mysticism and spiritual power.
"...Seriously?" he murmured, barely above a whisper.
The girl nodded gently, then added in nearly inaudible tones, "I’ve known for a long time. But I don’t understand what the mark means... only that people have always hated us for something we didn’t choose."
Ren rose slowly, eyes turning upward to the low-lit cave ceiling adorned with lights installed by Ultro.
He inhaled deeply, as if seeking answers between stone walls and newly built ventilation ducts.
Behind him, her voice was soft. "Sir... then I—"
"No," Ren interrupted sharply, though his tone stayed firm, not loud.
The Kitsune girl fell silent, taken aback by the sudden refusal. "But I haven’t spoken..."
"I know what you want to say," Ren replied, voice quiet but resolute. "You want to come with me. You want me to take you there. To Trek. To a place that is clearly a trap."
He turned, locking eyes with the girl’s golden-yellow gaze. "Listen... that message was too obvious. He left it on purpose, crafting the wording like I had a choice. But the only thing he wants is a fight. His wild desire to test his strength. And you..."
Ren lowered his head briefly, shaking it with a quiet sigh. "You’re the bait. The lure. I know the legend of the Nine Tails Fox. I know the dark history from the age of the gods. That hatred still lives on, passed down from generation to generation—to you, the Kitsune bloodline. Even now... someone like Trek doesn’t see you as a child. He sees you as meat."
There was no sound except the faint hum of the TPO reactor deep within the cave. Even Ultro remained silent, as if holding back a comment.
Eventually, the AI’s calm voice broke the tension.[Master... I believe your words were too harsh. Especially for a child.]
Ren closed his eyes. "Is that so...?" he whispered, barely audible.
"I know that..." came a soft voice from in front of him.
Ren opened his eyes, slightly startled.
"I know, Sir..." the Kitsune girl repeated. "I know it’s a trap. I know he doesn’t really want to negotiate. But... I’m tired too."
Her voice trembled slightly, but her eyes remained steady, fixed on Ren. "We’ve been hiding long enough. Running, crying... hating ourselves. Just because our blood comes from an ancestor who made a terrible mistake. But... doesn’t every race have a dark past? Haven’t all nations made bad decisions before?"
She clenched her small fists.
"My mother used to say... we mustn’t bow our heads forever. The world may reject us, but we must not reject ourselves. I... I don’t want to live only because someone protects me. I want to live because I have the right to choose my own path."
Ren stared at the Kitsune girl in silence, letting her words settle into the cool morning air still lingering in the cave. Her gaze didn’t falter, not even a little—and that, more than anything, gave him pause.
(A child born in peace... and a child raised in war. Their mindsets are completely different. Neither is wrong. But they are not the same kind.) Ren thought to himself. (Environment shapes the soul, like a mold shapes molten metal. This girl... she’s borne too much for someone so young.)
At last, he exhaled and gave a slow nod.
"Alright," he said quietly but firmly. "But only you come with me. The others stay here. This isn’t a game."
The girl—who had stood motionless like a statue—nodded once, resolutely. She didn’t show excitement, nor did she show fear. A posture... far beyond her years.
Ren leaned in slightly, studying her. "By the way, what’s your name?"
She hesitated for a second, then answered softly. "Kumara."
Ren narrowed his eyes. The name echoed faintly in the back of his mind, stirring something familiar but difficult to place.(Kumara... Kumara... where have I heard that name before?) he wondered.
Then a flash of memory struck him—an image of a nine-tailed beast, a legendary figure from the world he grew up in, with a booming voice and devastating power that shook fictional universes.
(Kurama... from Naruto.)
Ren almost laughed but held it in. This wasn’t the time for nostalgia. Still, the irony was hard to ignore.
"Kumara, huh?" he said with a small grin. "That’s a strong name."
"Thank you..." Kumara replied softly, a faint blush rising on her cheeks.
Ren stood and turned, heading toward the main console on the side of the cave. "Ultro," he called.
"Prep light combat gear. I’m bringing one companion. Keep defense systems active around the base, and assign three drones to perimeter patrol. We don’t know if this is part of a larger plan."
[Orders acknowledged. Combat drones will remain in silent standby. Perimeter set to alert status 2.]
Ren turned to Kumara. "We leave in one hour. Use the time to get ready."
Kumara nodded, then took a polite step back before walking out of the command chamber.