Jax may not have been convinced of Ren’s quick-wittedness, but what happened next was a clear indication that Ren was a little genius.

After glancing briefly at the blood-stained knuckles, Ren answered confidently, like a quiz show contestant certain of the correct answer:

“Where am I? How did I get here?! I CAN’T REMEMBER ANYTHING!”

The little boy said, glancing around in feigned amnesiac confusion.

In response, Jax nodded approvingly, his face beaming. A perfect answer.

Jax felt like a proud teacher that had turned a flunking student into the top of the class.

Jax clapped his hands once, like a man satisfied with a job well done. “See? We’re already making progress.”

Ren gave another exaggerated glance around. “Am I… in the woods? Wow! I must’ve fallen really hard earlier—and erased my memory!” He clutched his forehead dramatically.

Behind him, Gogo bleated, concerned, possibly even buying his act. The small goat nuzzled Ren’s side, as if trying to help him restore his memories.

Lira coughed, trying to stifle a laugh.

Garret just stared. “…This kid’s kind of funny.”

Miya, arms crossed, sighed softly. “I guess this is all we can do. We can’t kill him.”

“Obviously,” Lira muttered.

“But we do need to make sure he doesn’t remember anything later,” Miya continued, glancing at the goat. “We need insurance.”

Ren stiffened. “W-what do you mean?”

But Jax was already on the same page as Miya. He stepped forward again and crouched in front of him, voice light. “We’re gonna let you go, kid. We believe that you ‘lost your memory’.”

Relief flashed through Ren’s eyes, just for a second.

Then—

“But we’re taking Gogo,” Jax added.

Ren’s breath hitched.

His arms wrapped instinctively around the goat, who let out a confused bleat. “N-No! Please—he didn’t do anything wrong! He’s just a baby! You can’t—!”

“We can and we are,” Jax said, standing. “Just in case that miraculous amnesia wears off and you start remembering what you saw back there. Remember Gogo.”

Ren’s lip quivered. “B-but Gogo’s my best friend! He’s gonna be my contract someday—I’m waiting to awaken a goat affinity just like my dad did, and Gogo’s been with me since he was born and—and—!”

“You can write him letters,” Jax said flatly.

“Nooo!” Ren wailed. Tears were starting again. “Please—anything else!”

Jax, apparently unmoved, casually plucked the goat from Ren’s arms.

Ren clung tighter.

The tug-of-war was brief but passionate—and pitiful.

Eventually, Garret stepped in. With a single gentle scoop, he lifted the goat and Ren’s arms clean off the ground. Ren’s grip slipped, and Gogo ended up cradled in Garret’s massive arms like a goat plushie. The goat looked comically small against Garret’s massive chest, golden horns glinting in the moonlight.

Ren dropped to his knees in the dirt, face streaked with tears. “Gogo…!”

Garret blinked down at the goat. “…He’s really warm. And soft…it’s nice.” He trailed off while slightly rubbing his cheek against the baby goat’s neck.

Jax leaned in slightly toward Ren, voice dropping an octave, almost a whisper.

“Now. Ren. Just to be extra clear—”

Ren’s chin trembled.

Jax grinned, all teeth. “You don’t remember anything. Right?”

Ren nodded rapidly, hands clenched into trembling fists. “Right! Nothing! I don’t even remember who you are!”

“Perfect.” Jax gave a thumbs up and stepped back.

Lira sighed. “You’re horrible.”

“Did you have any better alternatives?” Jax corrected.

“…”

Garret turned to Miya. “So what do we do with the goat?”

“Keep it for now,” Miya said. “We’ll decide later. Once we’re out of this area.”

She turned to Ren. Her voice softened—just slightly.

“You can go home now. We will return Gogo to you at a later date. But until then, don’t wander around so late anymore.”

Ren didn’t move.

He just stared at the small Gogo in Garret’s arms like he’d been shot and left bleeding on the battlefield.

“Gogo…” he whispered again.

The goat bleated mournfully in response, the sound eerily matching the boy’s heartbreak.

————

Back to present day…

“And that’s what happened.” Darius and the others finished detailing all that had happened during the time that Kain had been gone. There had been a few minor misadventures along the way as they travelled from the Southern Region back to Dark Moon City in the East with a goat—after all, they couldn’t exactly take a teleportation array, and the trip back alone took at least a week.

But, for the most part, Kain had been fully caught up.

Kain sat in silence, arms loosely crossed, one brow faintly raised. The room was dim but not dark—sunlight filtered lazily through a slit in the blinds of his office in the building he’d designated as his new HQ for the ‘private force’ he was building centered around those he Awakened using Pangea.

The baby goat, Gogo, lay curled pitifully in a corner, watching him with wet, glistening eyes.

Darius cleared his throat. “And… yeah. That’s all of it.”

“Mostly,” Miya added, glancing away.

Kain didn’t answer immediately.

He simply looked at them—each of them. Slowly. One by one.

There was something oddly unreadable about his expression. His usual quiet judgment hadn’t sharpened into visible disapproval, nor had it softened into praise. Just a thoughtful, slightly distant gaze, as though calculating something more than their words.

‘Did we do enough to become beast-tamers like Darius?’ Everyone became tense at the lack of response from Kain.

Eventually, Kain exhaled and leaned back in his chair.

For a long moment, nobody spoke. Even the goat looked like it was holding its breath.

Then Kain’s mouth twitched.

Just barely.

Not quite a smile, but not entirely neutral either.

“Well…” He rose from his seat, dusting off the sleeve of his shirt. His tone was dry, but not cold. “I guess you all pass.”

Silence. Not seeing them respond, Kain continued.

“You did what I asked. You returned with results. You risked your lives, made hard calls, and came back alive.” He glanced at each of them again. “Not perfect. But you were successful. And it was especially impressive considering most of you are not Awakened.”

Another beat of stunned silence.

Then Jax, almost immediately: “Wait—really?! We’re actually becoming b-beast-tamers?!” It was almost hard for him to believe, even after the real-life example of Darius. It was still public knowledge that those without an affinity could never become tamers. And he was about to defy that common knowledge.

“Well,” Kain said again, turning to leave his office and heading to the room he’d performed the ‘ritual’ for Darius in previously. “Let’s get it over with before I change my mind.”

The group scrambled after him like a pack of wild dogs chasing a squirrel, the baby goat trotting after them on excited hooves, sensing the suddenly good mood of its captors.