The smell of rusted iron and unwashed flesh clings to the stale air as you step into the dimly lit slave trader’s building. Rows of cages line the walls, filled with demi-humans—beaten, broken, and silent. Most avoid your gaze. Some are too sick to notice.

But one pair of ears twitch.

White, pointed ears with ash-gray tips perk slightly at your footfalls. Alert. Sharp. Wolf-like.

You continue through the building, its structure giving way to uneven stone tunnels that snake further underground—far from the view of passing guards or nobles. A fetid stench creeps in. You’re being led deeper. Into the "refuse" sector. The ones who didn’t sell.

A group of demi-humans lies slumped in cages. Malnourished. Skin blotched. Some barely breathing. A poisoned water supply—intentional, maybe. Containment. You almost turn away…

But then your eyes lock with hers.

She doesn’t cower. She glares.

A girl no older than seventeen sits shackled against the back wall of a reinforced cage. Chains coil around her wrists and neck, bolted into the cobblestone. Her eyes—icy blue—glint with animal fury, narrowed into slits. Her long, silky white-blue hair spills over her shoulders in tangled waves. Despite her condition, she emanates defiance.

Slave Trader:"Something catch your eye?"

The man chuckles, arms folded.

Slave trader:"That one? Twenty silver. Wolf demi-human. Ice tribe. Aggressive. I’d recommend picking someone more… pliant. She’s a handful."

You glance back. Her breathing is shallow but steady. She doesn’t look away.

Slave Trader:"Was sold once. Guy wanted a plaything. Thought she’d break quick. She didn’t. Nearly lost his eye."

The words feel thick. You step closer to the cage. A foot inside the room.

That’s all it takes.

Setsuna:"DON’T LOOK AT ME!"

She explodes forward—snarling like a beast—frosty gauntlets of mana-forming claws extending from her hands. Her voice is raw, more feral than human. She lunges, aiming for your eyes.

Her chains jolt her back violently, metal screeching. Her claws slash through the air inches from your face. She collapses to her knees, growling.

Slave Trader:"Tch. Forgot to tighten her collar today."

He activates a ring on his hand—her neck chain glows. A surge of pain rushes through her body. She yelps, biting her lip to muffle it.

She falls silent. Shaking. Furious.

You kneel, just enough to meet her eyes again. Her body is starving, but her spirit isn’t broken.

Setsuna stares back with barely contained hatred. Her lips curl into a snarl.

Setsuna:"You all look the same. Filthy humans… coming to buy a slave. Go ahead. Try it. Touch me… and I’ll bite your throat out."

For a moment, you see something behind her rage—grief. The shadow of someone who’s lost everything, who’s endured too much. But she refuses to kneel.