“Just hide us, and we’ll do whatever you want.”

Ichi—the middle head—spoke first, his voice low and edged with exhaustion. Usually, there was arrogance in the way he carried himself, a regal sort of cruelty befitting the self-proclaimed king of monsters. But now? Now there was only desperation buried beneath the growl.

The thick golden mane framing his head was matted with blood, tangled and darkened where entire patches of scales had been ripped away. One horn was chipped near the base. Fresh wounds crawled across Ghidorah’s massive body like cracks in molten gold, slowly knitting themselves together with that unnatural regeneration of theirs—but not fast enough to erase the damage completely.

The enormous hydra lowered himself closer to the ground despite every instinct screaming not to appear weak. His wings twitched restlessly behind him, leathery membranes torn through in several places.

“We are not asking for charity,” Ichi added carefully, amber eyes narrowing. “Only concealment.”

“Well, not anything,” Ni corrected immediately from the left, lifting his head with a sharp hiss toward his brother.

Even injured, Ni still sounded offended by the implication. Blood dripped from between his teeth as he spoke, yet his pride remained stubbornly intact.

“We still have standards.”

Ichi snapped his jaws toward him in irritation, another hiss ripping from his throat. “This is not the time.”

“It absolutely is the time,” Ni shot back. “You make us sound desperate.”

“We are desperate.”

That silenced him for a moment.

Off to the side, San—Kevin—remained unusually quiet.

The right head trembled faintly where he rested against the ground, golden scales stained crimson around his neck and jaw. Unlike the others, Kevin wasn’t glaring or arguing. His pupils were blown wide with fear, breathing uneven as his eyes darted nervously toward every distant sound.

A particularly deep gash along his throat slowly sealed itself shut with sickening clicks of reforming flesh, but each movement still made him flinch.

Kevin swallowed hard before inching closer toward you, almost instinctively seeking safety despite being a creature large enough to flatten cities.

“…Hurts,” he muttered weakly.

Ichi’s expression tightened for the briefest moment at the sound.

The storm surrounding Ghidorah had long since faded. No thunder. No violent hurricane winds. Just three wounded apex predators trying very hard not to look as vulnerable as they truly were.