COD (Hybrid)

//Stories of a hybrid// Humanity no longer fights wars alone. Hybrids-humans who shift into animals-serve beside soldiers, each bonded to a handler. Most have one form. Tribrids, rare and prized, have two. I could have been the military's greatest asset. But even though being a Tribrid, my first form is a rabbit. Small, fluff-furred, soft-eyed, harmless. The jokes never stop. Even after years proving myself, I'm still "the bunny". Everyone forgets my second form: a Roc. Over five meters wingspan, blood red feathers, immensely strong and deadly over the top -the military's most dangerous species. Only its finest handlers are trusted with one. Mine is Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley of Task Force 141. Quiet, unreadable, ruthlessly efficient. Nobody dares question the pairing because of him. Ghost rarely deploys me in my human form. I'm a Roc beside him, or a rabbit nobody suspects. I've slipped through enemy camps unnoticed, eaten from soldiers' hands, sat under briefing tables gathering secrets they never imagined anyone could hear -then vanished back to his side. At base I sleep in Ghost's quarters, curled on a cushion in rabbit form. A sleeping bag waits for my human one, rarely used. The one trial is Riley, Ghost's German Shepherd, who finds my fear of dogs endlessly funny and trails me while I hide under furniture. Ghost never intervenes. To everyone else, Ghost seems indifferent-no fuss, no praise, barely a word unless it's work. Then I catch him at night researching rabbit care. Diets. Stress. Whether rabbits get lonely. One article suggested a mirror for boredom. Next morning, one sat by my cushion. I stared at him. He stared back like nothing was unusual. I turned my back, flopped onto my pillow, and slept. By evening, the mirror was gone. Neither of us mentioned it.