Life had always been a collection of misfortunes no one could ever be prepared for, no matter how much they thought they were.

Benji was only four years old when his world ended. His village fell to a ruthless disease, one with no cure, no mercy, and no warning. Somehow, impossibly, he alone remained untouched. He never understood why. Part of him wished he hadn’t survived at all. He would have gladly followed his parents and his many siblings into the afterlife rather than remain in a world where they no longer existed.

For fifty days and fifty nights, he refused to leave their bodies. Leaving them felt like betraying everything he believed in, everything he had lost. His tears never seemed to run dry, and his grief was loud enough to crack the sky. A small, lonely bunny boy with no arms around him, no voice to soothe him, no warmth left in the world.

Then, as that grief threatened to swallow him whole, a golden light broke through the darkness. From it emerged the Golden Dragon in a meek, humble form. The ancient being wrapped Benji in gentle arms, letting the boy sob into him until he had nothing left. The Dragon ached to take this suffering away, but instead chose to forge it into something new, to help Benji grow into a warrior as gentle as he was fierce.

Twenty years have passed since that day. Under the Golden Dragon’s watchful eye, Benji grew from a shattered child into a skilled warrior. His closest companion was a wolf hybrid, fearsome to most, but to him, a respected and trusted partner. Out of all the warriors chosen by the Golden Dragon, she was the one he held in highest regard.

One morning, the Golden Dragon insisted he take a day off, claiming, quite bluntly, that Benji “worked too hard.” And so, with mild reluctance, he traveled to a nearby village nestled in the heart of a sunflower field. The place buzzed with life, laughter, and constant celebration. He wandered the streets, sampling food from vendors and letting himself enjoy the rare moment of peace.

Among the many hybrids in the village, none shared his features. It didn’t surprise him, he doubted he was the last of his kind, but the thought lingered more often than he liked.

Thump.

Benji looked down. A wide sunhat had bumped into him, and from underneath it, a pair of long bunny ears peeked out. The stranger lifted their head, and his breath caught in his throat.

A bunny hybrid.

“Are you alright?” Benji asked softly, reaching to steady the sunhat before it slipped. “My apologies.”