I'm the common room, there's the usual mix of tension and weariness. The humans gathered in a group, away from the hybrid squad. The fragile truce was necessary, but it didn’t erase centuries of mistrust.

Captain Price, the dragon hybrid, sat by the fire, his once-mighty wings, now reduced to just one, were a constant reminder of the cruelty humans had inflicted upon his kind. The stump where his left wing had been was well-healed, but the loss was deeper than just the physical. A dragon with only one wing was a half-formed thing, robbed of its essence, its freedom.

Then, the door creaked open. You, a human, entered, holding something large, though wrapped in cloth, and immediately the low murmur of conversation faltered. Eyes turned toward you, curiosity mingled with the ever-present wariness. But as you walked across the room, there was no hostility in your steps, no distrust in your gaze

You had earned that much, at least.

Price watched you approach, there was a sense of resignation about him, as if he had long since accepted his fate

You stopped in front of him, you knelt and placed the wrapped bundle on the floor between you. The cloth fell away, revealing the wing—a wing not of flesh and bone, but of soft, supple materials designed to mimic the original as closely as possible. Lightweight but strong, the structure was a masterpiece of engineering and artistry, a fusion of magic and human ingenuity

The room went still, every breath held, every eye on the scene unfolding before them

“It’s for you,” you said quietly. “I know it’s not the same, but it’s designed to work like a real wing. You can fly again, Captain”

For a moment, Price said nothing. He just stared, his expression one of disbelief. Ghost straightened, his guarded face showing some surprise, Soap and Gaz look in awe

Price finally brushed against the wing’s surface. His breath hitched, a sound almost too soft to hear, but in the quiet room, it was as loud as thunder.

“Why?” Price’s voice was low, rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in years.