The boy lay on the grass, motionless—unconscious, bloody, barely breathing. The nun held her hand tightly, murmuring prayers between sobs, while the others crowded around her in silence, unsure whether they were comforting her or themselves.
They had managed to pull him away just after the mayor had finished speaking. No resistance, no justice—just the heavy silence of fear. But just as they began to discuss how to safely move him…
A sound ripped through the night.
A scream.
It wasn't human—but it came from him.
The boy's body arched up, spine bowing unnaturally. The Tiger Whisp, still towering in the distance with glowing blue eyes, surged forward one final time. With a flash of its claw, it gouged the boy's eyes out in front of everyone.
Blood poured like a fountain from the hollowed sockets.
The scream ended as his consciousness vanished again, body falling limp in a spray of crimson mist.
The crowd recoiled. The nun screamed his name, crawling forward, hands shaking violently.
Mr. Vanomart—unbothered—stepped past the boy's twitching form. He grabbed him by the collar, lifted his limp body like a broken toy, and flung him toward the nun's feet.
"He's alive. For now," the mayor said with a cold victorious smirk. "Many who live have earned death. Many who've died were worthy of life. But who among us has the power—or the wisdom—to grant either?"
His boot crushed the grass as he turned. "But for your face, Sister... I let him live."
He gestured behind him, and the Tiger Whisp—eyes still glowing, jaws bloodstained—happily chewed down the boy's discarded eyes, purring like a predator sated after a feast.
"He has no place in the orphanage anymore," Vanomart continued. "If he survives... tell him to think long and hard about what he did wrong. I expect someone useful from your little nest this year."
He raised his hand. "Secretary."
A voluptuous woman with crimson lipstick and high heels appeared from behind a group of ruffians, holding a sleek data tablet. She walked forward, hips swaying, and handed him a set of electronic papers.
"His orphanage's living rights are revoked," he announced as he signed. "Effective immediately."
He tossed the documents onto the bloodied ground. "If he somehow becomes a Whisp Master in the next few years, don't come begging. He gets no resources from this conurbation. Not a single drop."
They all stood frozen. No one dared speak.
They knew the truth—becoming a Whisp Master without institutional support was near impossible. Especially for someone already damaged, broken... blinded.
The mayor turned and walked away, surrounded by his ruffians.
A deafening caw split the air moments later. A giant obsidian-feathered bird descended, wings flapping like thunder, and carried them away. The police, who had stood idly by the whole time, followed in silence, called away like trained dogs 'another general level pet'.
But one officer paused. His face was unreadable, torn between duty and decency.
"We're sorry," he muttered to the nun. "He messed with the wrong man. If you find evidence… don't bring it to us. Just post it publicly. You know what will happen if you come to us."
Then they, too, disappeared into a police car.
Silence settled again—bitter, cold, and heavy.
The boy's chest moved in shallow, broken gasps. Blood kept leaking from his wounds. They dared not move him; even lifting his hand might tear what little life was left inside.
"We can't take him now," one of the standbys said. "scar is too deep. If we move him like this… he might die before we reach the medical centre."
The nun trembled. Her hands glowed faintly.
"I'll try."
She knelt and made a sharp sign with her fingers. Green light bloomed from her palm, forming a Whisp Array shaped like a blooming petal. With a burst of light, a creature emerged—a small squirrel-like Whisp, about half a meter tall. It had a tiny curved horn on its nose, sapphire-blue scales on its belly and back, and a long tail tipped with soft violet fur. Purple eyes shimmered with awareness.
"Qiu Qiu," the nun called softly, tears still streaking her cheeks.
The little creature saw the scene—and froze.
Blood. The boy, stripped and broken. The boy who used to play with him, feed him, sneak him berries from the orphanage kitchens.
His nose twitched, then flared. He let out a high-pitched screech.
"Qiu-qiu-qiu-qiu—!!"
He jumped in place, frantic, shaking. He looked to his master, eyes wide with panic, chittering questions rapidly. seeing him other whisps those were gone to river, started to came around him and screamed like him.
Absolutely! Here's the updated and refined description with your additions:
A tortoise-like creature with a muddy blue body. From the center of its forehead down to the tip of its nose runs a line of short, blunt horns. Faint green spots are scattered across its limbs and sides. Its back is covered in a thick shell made of concave hexagonal plates, each sunken and interlocked. Its legs end in small, sturdy paws, while its rounded forearms taper into three thick fingers.
A serpentine creature, no longer than a forearm, with sleek scales that shimmer between black, deep violet, midnight blue, and forest green depending on how the light touches them. Its eyes are large and glossy, reflecting hints of emerald and indigo, giving it a gaze that feels far older than its size would suggest. Two tiny, feather-like fins just behind its head twitch subtly. The tip of its tail splits into two wispy threads.
A plump, round creature with a body shaped like a ripe blue tomato, its smooth skin faintly gleaming under light. Tiny arms and legs sprout from its sides. A crown of leafy green fronds unfurls from the top of its head. Fine fuzzy fur covers parts of its body—especially around the base of its limbs and the underside. Its round eyes peek from beneath the leafy fringe.
The nun's voice cracked as she said, "Healing bubble. Now."
Qiu Qiu's eyes narrowed with resolve. He formed his tiny paws together and blew—large glowing green bubbles formed from his mouth and fingertips, growing with pulsing energy.
One floated over the boy and collapsed onto him like a gentle dome. The healing magic activated instantly. seeing it other whisps started to do same things. Some uses their leaves to cover the scars, some uses bubble to heal him and many other things.
Inside the translucent sphere, his body began to glow faintly. Torn flesh stitched itself. Crushed bones realigned. Even the destroyed sockets where his eyes once were began to close—though imperfectly.
"It's working!" someone cried.
But the glow faded too soon.
"Healing complete," the nun muttered. "But…"
Though his outer body appeared mended, the boy wasn't waking. Worse, blood had started dripping again from under his eyelids.
"It's not enough," she whispered. "The injury's too deep. Too much shock."
The whisps had already given everything they had. Wounded and shaking, they poured their last ounce of strength into healing him, their bodies trembling with exhaustion. One by one, they collapsed around him, too drained to even lift their heads. Their breathing slowed, their eyes dimmed—not from defeat, but from love. Even Qiu Qiu, the smallest among them, pushed its power beyond the limit. With one last flicker of effort, it nestled beside him and went still, utterly spent.
A man summoned his own Whisp—a sheep-like creature with a woolen body and gentle black eyes. small legs with hoof and small tail with a bell.
"Cotton!" he ordered.
The creature let out a bleat, and tufts of soft cotton emerged from its back in thick clumps. He gathered them quickly.
"We'll clean him," the nun said. "We can't heal on top of blood."
Another Whisp joined them—a frog-like one—who formed small water guns and lightly sprayed the boy's skin. They cleaned and padded his wounds, applied pressure to stop the bleeding. But it returned again and again.
"We're losing him," someone said.
"No," the nun growled, her voice fierce.
Qiu Qiu looked at the boy, then at her, then back. Without being told, he formed another bubble—but this time it was weaker. Less glow. Less power, other pets just stared at him in exhaustion.
The first healing had taken too much out of him.
Still, he tried. He threw it forward with a desperate chirp.
The bubble landed on the boy—but barely shimmered.
A weak green hue spread across his chest... then vanished.
Everyone froze.
"…It's not working anymore," someone whispered.
Blood began to leak again from the boy's nose and ears now, slow and steady like a ticking clock.
"No…" the nun said, sinking beside him. "No, no, no… please…"
Qiu Qiu collapsed beside the boy, exhausted and trembling. He tried to lift his tiny arms again, but only sparks came out.
The others gathered in silence.
And still, the boy didn't wake.
His chest rose faintly. Barely.
But the eyes—the eyes were gone forever.