Even though he had held the little thing once before, Amos was still stiff when he picked it up again.
This tiny fluff ball—barely the size of two palms—was so small and soft that it felt boneless in his arms. Its little body naturally nestled against his chest, blinking up with wide eyes, letting out a quiet “awuu.”
The little tail behind him wagged nervously yet excitedly, while the golden halo above his head swayed and shimmered brightly.
No rejection.
No avoidance.
He was being held.
The little cub still felt uneasy and frightened; the terror of being crushed by falling boulders had not yet faded. But perhaps because of an instinct like imprinting, the moment he had opened his eyes and seen Amos—a being who looked just like him—the cub had felt an inexplicable sense of closeness.
His tiny claws clung to Amos’s uniform, and he cautiously bumped his little head against Amos’s chest.
Then he blinked his big eyes, waiting for a reaction.
Amos’s face remained expressionless as he held the little one. He said nothing, but his steps gradually slowed until he stopped before a basic medical pod. He placed the small white ball into it.
It was the simplest kind of pod—only a thin cushion inside. The little white fluff naturally curled up into a ball. His triangular ears perked up, and his round eyes darted around, curious about the unfamiliar surroundings.
Amos’s face was still taut as he pressed the activation button.
A “beep—” sounded.
Instantly, the little cub’s fur puffed up. The tiny feathers on his wings stood on end. Before the pod could even close, he flapped his wings and shot out—
He shot out?!
That speed was unbelievable!
Amos froze for a second, and in that instant, the little one—like a tiny cannonball—crashed straight back into his arms.
Amos instinctively caught him.
The little cub used just that brief moment to scramble up. His tiny claws clutched Amos’s clothes, climbing fast—up his chest, his shoulder—until he stood perched at the top. His small body arched, resembling a startled little beast. He stared wide-eyed at the now-closed medical pod.
The pod finished its scan, and the screen lit up:
Empty Chamber. [·-·?] Please do not tease me! Injured personnel, lie down properly! Don’t waste resources!
Huh. The thing even lit up.
The little cub, who had never seen such strange interstellar devices before, widened his eyes, baring his tiny teeth at the glowing screen—he couldn’t read the symbols, but in his old world, whenever light like that appeared, it meant someone was attacking with power. He needed to defend himself!
“Awuu!”
The cub bared his teeth again. Before Amos could reach for him, the little one leapt down, landing with a “plop” on the screen, tiny paws and tail smacking against it with sharp little pah pah pahs.
Bad thing! Take that, from Zao Zao!
Zao Zao will even shoot you with his little bow and arrow!
The halo above his head gleamed. During the years when he’d been mistaken for an angel, Chu Zao had acquired a small angelic bow—one with a special kind of power, though the little cub rarely used it.
Could it be—time to use it?
Flames burned in the cub’s amber eyes. Appear!
And then—the little cub was plucked right back by Amos.
Watching the tiny creature complete all those actions in just a few seconds, Amos: …
He caught the squirming little tail with his other hand, staring at the pair of flapping angel-like wings behind the cub. Right now, he was holding the cub up by the scruff like one might hold a wildly fluttering moth.
Wait—hold on. This wasn’t at all how the little one had behaved before. When Amos had first met him, he had been a quiet, timid puffball. Now he was bouncing all over the place. Amos began to question life itself—wasn’t this little thing a bit too energetic?
Little Chu Zao, dangling in the air, hadn’t yet withdrawn his claws. His wings flapped, and his small, sharp nails gleamed as he bared his teeth and blinked dumbly at Amos.
Once he realized what he was doing, the little cub retracted his claws and let out a soft “awuu.”
—That strange bad thing! It looked like it wanted to attack! Zao Zao was going to fight it!
Yes, growing up without parents, the little one had learned to be strong—otherwise, he would have been bullied.
Clearly, he was unfamiliar with all these new things.
Amos studied the flickering golden halo above the cub’s head, the twitching ears, and the softly beating wings behind him.
“Don’t be afraid.”
Amos wasn’t good at comforting others. For hundreds of years, the Crowned Race had only been good at beating people until they cried for their fathers.
So when faced with a little cub, his tone was stiff and awkwardly gentle.
“It’s just a small examination.
Little Chu Zao gradually relaxed, letting out a soft “awuu.” His fluffy ears twitched as Amos gently placed him back into the medical pod.
The soft white fluff curled into a ball, his four tiny legs moving as he turned around once, then pressed himself against the transparent cover to watch Amos.
Chu Zao had never seen another being like himself before.
Though he had been bullied as a child, he was still young. His heart hadn’t yet turned dark. He didn’t fully understand why he’d suffered so much, and though he often claimed he didn’t care about family, deep down he had always longed for one.
After years of wondering what kind of “little monster” he was, finally finding someone like him filled him with joy—so much so that he lowered all his defences.
His small tail swayed rhythmically behind him, and his amber eyes sparkled brightly.
Through the cover of the medical pod, he softly called out, “Awuu awuu,” his voice tender—
Baba.
With a hint of innocent expectation.
This cub’s appearance raised countless questions.
Amos knew that clearly.
He shouldn’t be softhearted. He should investigate, find out what this little creature really was.
Was it the result of some hidden interstellar experiment? Or perhaps a ploy by a terrorist group? All of it reeked of danger.
But now—
Looking at the soft little one calling Baba with that golden halo swaying above his head…
Amos felt scorched. The emperor, who had never been near a cub, didn’t realize he’d just been melted by its cuteness. He averted his gaze and turned toward the medical screen.
And then—the screen turned red.
“Beep beep beep beep—Data anomaly! Data anomaly!!! Cub detected! Cub detected!!! Age: five years old! Physical condition: extremely weak! Spiritual development: abnormal! Current resources are insufficient for treatment!
Reasonable suspicion: the cub has been abused!!!
Recording begins—video surveillance activated—I will report the case in full—”
Amos: …
He clenched his fist and slammed it coldly against the back of the medical pod.
The machine shuddered.
The simple AI inside froze mid-process.
Amos: “Are you glitched or just insane?”
Sensing danger, the primitive AI hesitated, the display showing a spinning loading icon.
Moments later—
“Ding—Unable to connect to the Imperial emergency line. Retrying—”
Amos nearly laughed from rage.
Looking at the confused little cub pressing against the pod’s cover, he suddenly remembered that these AI systems had been programmed by his people generations ago.
Back then, the Crowned Race hadn’t been in such decline. Even as they faced destruction, the elders had always longed for cubs, envying the other species for their births.
Because of that, traces of their love and obsession with cubs were embedded throughout the empire’s systems—little remnants of a time when “protect the cub” was their creed. Most of today’s Crowned Race had forgotten that sentiment.
For instance—
When a pod detected signs of an injured cub, it would immediately lock down and frantically attempt to call the imperial emergency line.
But now, with their location too far from the Imperial Star, the calls couldn’t connect at all.
Amos stood there, staring at the pod that continued to beep insistently.
Medical Pod: “…Danger!”
Moments later.
The wrecked pod lay on its side, crackling faintly with static.
The cover had been ripped off by sheer force and tossed aside.
Little Chu Zao trembled, his soft fur puffed up. His tiny paws grabbed Amos’s pant leg, climbing up again with ease.
He naturally perched himself back on Amos’s shoulder.
Amos was studying the star chart.
The cub’s physical condition couldn’t withstand space-jumping. He needed to avoid cosmic pollution zones and star-beast clusters while bringing the cub back to the Holy Cas Empire. Fortunately, their current planet—the old Crowned Race homeland—wasn’t far from the new Imperial Star.
After the pollution disaster, the empire had relocated, leaving this area as a barren middle zone, with nearby small planets now home to scattered refugees.
“Awuu~”
Baba!
Little Chu Zao stood on Amos’s shoulder.
He seemed to have something to say, but looked too shy to speak.
Amos had already pulled him down twice, but the cub climbed right back up each time. Finally, Amos looked over and asked, “What is it?”
“Awuu!”
Hungry!
Amos paused, then reached out to lift the cub down again.
After doing it several times, he had gotten used to it. The discovery of what might be a cub of his own species had settled his mood somewhat.
He placed the cub on the table.
Then, rising, he fetched a packet of nutrient solution from a nearby cabinet.
Amos had left in a hurry, bringing little with him. Normally, because of his busy schedule, he survived mostly on nutrient solutions. He looked from the bland, flavourless packet to the wide-eyed, expectant cub.
After a brief hesitation, he tore it open and handed it over.
Chu Zao was indeed hungry.
His power was damaged, preventing him from returning to his angelic form. Recovery drained his stamina, and his stomach had been rumbling for a while.
Now, with both little paws clutching the packet, his big eyes blinked dully. He took a big gulp—
—and was completely stunned by the taste.
Under Amos’s blank stare, the cub’s paws loosened, the packet plopping onto the table.
The little one swallowed with effort, staggered two steps, then toppled over sideways. One tiny paw reached up, hooked his golden halo, pulled it off, and laid it gently on his chest.
“Awuu.”
Baba. Zao Zao died from the taste, QAQ.
Amos: …
“Wait—hold on a second!!!”
His eyes widened.
That halo was truly the spiritual crown of the Crowned Race. Amos had already confirmed it earlier. But—
“How did you take your halo off?!”
For the Crowned Race, the spiritual halo was practically equivalent to the brain. They could manipulate it, yes, but it was merely a manifestation of mental energy—not a physical object to be removed. When a crown shattered, their spiritual core collapsed, leading to death.
Yet now, this tiny creature had casually removed it by hand.
Even Amos—normally calm and rational—nearly broke composure.
In other words—
“How did you just take off your brain?!”
He has not developed his brain yet 😭😭