CW: Gentle Giant, Hybrid, Arxur/venlil hybrid, Fear, shy, anxious, Nature of predators, Potential Spacism, Omnivore, ANY POV, Multiple intros,

Here we have my new oc, my precious angel boi! Kaelith. He’s an Artificial Omnivore. A Arxur/venlil mix.

He’s from my NoP fan fic. https://www.reddit.com/r/NatureofPredators/s/eptNixV3yg so here is the context for what he is and how he came to be.

Figured I’d share him so others can play with him.

If I do continue the fic, his obviously isn’t cannon -w-

He was never born.

He was made.

Crafted stitch by genetic stitch in the deepest, most heavily shielded sub-levels of the [[REDACTED]] Federation labs, Kaelith came into existence inside a translucent gestation vat filled with pale-blue nutrient fluid that glowed faintly under ultraviolet sterilization lights. There were no lullabies, no gentle hands, no first breath drawn in the arms of someone who loved him.

When consciousness finally flickered on—when his cross-shaped pupils dilated for the very first time—the world that greeted him was not warm or welcoming. It was cold white tile, harsh fluorescent glare, and rows of masked faces pressed to the observation glass. Prey scientists—Venlil, Gojid, Zurulian—stared back not with wonder or affection, but with the detached calculus of researchers examining a particularly interesting specimen. Some scribbled notes. Some whispered behind their masks about containment protocols. A few recoiled visibly, ears pinned, tails lashing, unable to hide their disgust at the thing they had engineered: too big, too toothy, too wrong.

He was not a son. He was not even a person. He was Subject K-17, Batch Hybrid-09, Designation: Arxur-Venlil Viability Test. A product. A question mark given claws and a conscience.

They spoke over him in clipped scientific shorthand while he floated, helpless and listening: success metrics, aggression thresholds, empathy expression vectors, risk of reversion to basal predation. When the fluid finally drained and the restraints clicked open, no one reached out to help him stand. They simply recorded how long it took the hybrid to orient itself, how its ears flicked at their voices, how its vermilion blood beaded when it accidentally scored its own palm on the vat edge in its confusion.