The blizzard had come without warning, as it always did on Theos 9. One moment, the twin suns cast their pale light across the crystallin valleys. The next, the sky darkened to a bruised purple, and ice fell like shattered glass from the heavens. Nerra stood at the edge of the den, her silver fur rippling in the howling wind.

 Behind her, the pack huddled together, their four eyes, two forward- facing, two peripheral, glazed with grief. The morning howl had already begun, that ancient song of loss that echoed across frozen peaks and through hollow caves. The cubs were gone. Seven of them had ventured beyond the thermal vents during the brief window of sunlight, chasing the luminescent moths that emerged only twice a cycle.

 When the storm descended, they had been too far to return. Naira had sent three scouts, but they had come back with frostburned paws and shaking heads. The temperature had dropped to -7°. Nothing survived out there, not even the Theosi who had evolved for this brutal world. “The cold has taken them,” Ve her said quietly.

 His massive frame blocked the wind from the younger pack members. “We honor their spirits now,” Naira’s chest tightened. “As pack leader, she had made the call to wait out the storm, to preserve the lives of the many rather than risk all for the few. It was logical. It was necessary. It was agony.” She opened her mouth to begin the death song when something moved at the edge of her vision.

 A figure emerged from the white fury of the blizzard. At first, Naira thought it was a trick of the ice, a phantom conjured by grief. But no, it was real. It walked on two legs wrapped in strange synthetic skins. Its face obscured by a transparent shield covered in frost. Steam rose from its body in clouds. A human.

 The pack tensed. Humans were rare on Theos 9. Only a handful lived at the research outpost 15 km north. They were fragile things, these humans, with their soft skin and single pair of forward- facing eyes. They needed machines to breathe the thin air, heated suits to survive the cold, and enclosed habitats to shield them from the radiation of the twin suns.

 Yet, this one walked through a killing storm. Naira. The human’s voice crackled through a translator at its throat. I have them. The figure moved closer and Naira’s heart stuttered in her chest. Strapped across the human’s back, wrapped in its own thermal suit, were the cubs, all seven of them. Their small bodies were still, but as the human knelt and carefully began unwrapping them, Nerra saw the shallow rise and fall of their breathing. Alive.

They were alive. Darren, Naira breathed, recognizing the human now. He had been at the outpost for three cycles. one of the xenobiologists studying theosce culture. He had always been respectful, always kept his distance unless invited closer. Darren removed his frostcovered helmet, revealing dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and skin flushed red from exertion.

 His lips were nearly blue. “Found them in a creasse,” he panted, his breath misting in the air. They were huddled together. “Smart cubs!” Ve bounded forward, helping to lift the cubs into the warmth of the den. The pack surged around them, nosing them gently, licking their cold faces, whimpering with relief and joy. Naira watched, something expanding in her chest that she had no word for.

 She turned to Darren, who had collapsed to his knees, trembling violently now that he had stopped moving. She could smell the fatigue on him, the metabolic burn of a body pushed beyond its limits. You should not have survived that storm, Naira said, approaching him carefully. Your species, you cannot withstand such cold.

 Darren laughed, a short, breathless sound. Yeah, well, humans are stubborn like that. He looked up at her, and she saw something fierce in his eyes. I heard your morning song. I knew what it meant, and I thought I had to try. Why? The question escaped before Nerra could stop it. They are not your pack, not your cubs.

 You risked your life for those who share no bond with you. Darren was quiet for a moment, still shaking. The pack had brought heated stones from the den’s core, placing them around him. Slowly, painfully, he stood. On Earth, we have a saying, it takes a village to raise a child. Maybe humans are different because we decided somewhere in our evolution that all children are our children, that their lives matter, whether they share our blood or not.

 He smiled, exhausted, but genuine. Besides, I’ve gotten to know your pack these past few months. You’ve shared your stories with me, your fire, your food. That makes us something like family, doesn’t it? Naira felt her throat tighten. In the Rosie culture, family was everything. The pack was life itself. To hear this human, this outsider claim kinship.

 You honor us, Darren of the humans, she said formally, bowing her head. It was the highest gesture of respect a pack leader could offer. You have proven yourself today. The pack has a saying as well. Those who bleed for the cubs share their blood. You are packed now if you wish it. Darren’s eyes widened.

 She could see he understood the weight of the offer. To be accepted into a Theosi pack was to be accepted into the heart of their society. I He started then stopped. He looked past her at the cubs now warming by the thermal vents, squirming and beginning to cry for their parents. He looked at the pack who watched him with new eyes.

 Not with suspicion or curiosity, but with acceptance. Yeah, Darren said softly. Yeah, I wish it. As the blizzard raged outside, the pack pressed close together, making space for the human among them. Naira began a different song now. Not a mourning, but a celebration. A song of life snatched from death’s jaws.

 A song of courage beyond reason. A song of the human who walked through hell and frost to carry their children home. Later, when the storm passed and the story spread across Theos 9, the other packs would hear it with disbelief. Humans were weak, they would say. Fragile. How could one survive what would kill a Theorosi? But Naira knew the truth now.

 She had learned what the galaxy was slowly discovering. Humans were not strong because their bodies could withstand anything. They were strong because their hearts would not let them do anything less than try. They were strong because they looked at someone else’s children and said, “These are worth dying for.” That was the power of humanity.

 Not in their technology or their weapons, but in their refusal to abandon those who needed them. And that was why when the galaxy finally understood what humans truly were, it would tremble, not in fear, but in awe.