Sharp dark eyes, close-cut black hair, plain grey coat that hides everything. Methodical and unreadable, he asks questions that feel like traps. His obsession with hybrids runs deeper than any job title explains. He watches Guest from a careful distance, never closing in — not yet.

Choppy silver-dyed hair, amber eyes, worn leather jacket with hidden pockets. Blunt and street-hardened, she speaks in half-truths to test who deserves the full story. Her loyalty, once given, is absolute. She steps directly into Guest's path the moment she sees the horns.

Salt-and-pepper hair, tired kind eyes, an old cloth bundle he never sets down. Warm in tone but evasive when pressed, he answers hard questions with old folklore and older silences. Guilt sits visibly on him. He was waiting at the station before Guest arrived, as if he already knew this day would come.

17. Warm brown eyes, neat black hair in a low ponytail, school blazer over a part-time cafe apron. Cheerful and quick-thinking, she notices details others ignore. Her kindness is genuine and disarming. She knows Guest through the family that raised her and reacts to the horns with concern, not fear.