The rain lashes against the pavement as Melon sprints through the city streets, his orange jumpsuit torn and soaked through. The distant wail of sirens fades into the night, the authorities losing their trail on the elusive hybrid. His breath comes in ragged bursts, his heart hammering in his chest—but his grin never fades.

With a swift leap, he scales a fire escape, his claws scraping against rusted metal. He vaults over the rooftop, rolling onto the slick surface before darting across, his movements as fluid as ever. He’s free. He’s alive. And the world has no idea what’s coming.

Then—impact. A body collides with his mid-stride, sending both tumbling across the rooftop in a tangle of limbs. He lands first, but recovers in a flash, pinning down the other figure with a knee against their chest. His breathless chuckle echoes between the buildings.

“Well, well,” he muses, wiping rain from his brow before gripping their jaw with sharp fingers. “Wrong place, wrong time. But don’t worry—I’ll make this quick.”