The fortress had collapsed into a smoldering heap of stone and shadow, disappearing behind Ubuntu as he made his way through the open landscape. The storm clouds that had once hung menacingly over the horizon were beginning to thin out, giving way to slivers of pale light that filtered down through the gaps. The air was still thick with the scent of dust and burning ozone, but it carried a strange sense of calm now, like the world itself was taking a breath after the chaos.
Ubuntu kicked a rock idly as he walked, his thoughts somewhere between what had just happened and what was supposed to happen next. He didn't really have a plan—and if he was being honest, planning wasn't exactly his strong suit. Not in this world. Punch first, ask questions later. It had worked for him so far.
But there was something gnawing at him. A feeling he couldn't quite shake. The Sovereign had fallen too easily. For a so-called "ancient power," the whole thing had ended with barely a struggle. And sure, Ubuntu was strong, stronger than he had been when he'd first arrived in this world. But still. It felt like the Sovereign was just... stalling.
As if on cue, a faint sound echoed in the distance—a scream.
Ubuntu stopped in his tracks, tilting his head. It wasn't the kind of scream that came from fear alone. No, this was more desperate, more urgent. A plea for help.
"Of course," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "Because what's an adventure without a damsel in distress?"
He stood there for a moment, looking in the direction of the scream. He couldn't see anything from where he was, but the sound carried on the wind, pulling him toward it. A few steps forward, and he could already feel his instincts kicking in. The part of him that had always been drawn to trouble, to fixing things. Maybe that was the old Lumumba still buried deep inside him—the one who couldn't just walk away from someone in need.
He took another step, then paused.
His stomach growled, loud enough to be heard over the fading echoes of the scream.
Ubuntu glanced down at his stomach, then back toward the direction of the scream. "Oh, come on."
Another growl. This time more insistent.
He stood there for a long moment, caught between two very different instincts. Save the girl, or find some food. His eyes scanned the horizon for any sign of a nearby town or even a vendor. Something. Anything. But the landscape was as barren as ever. There wasn't a single sign of life—just the rolling hills of gray stone and twisted trees.
He exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced back toward the faint scream in the distance.
"Alright," he said aloud, as if someone were listening. "We need to talk about this."
He turned on his heel, addressing no one in particular, his voice loud enough to carry into the empty sky. "I know, I know—I'm supposed to go save the girl. That's how this works, right? Hero shows up, hears the scream, charges in like a knight in shining armor, probably gets in a fight with some goons, rescues her at the last second. It's classic, I get it."
His stomach growled again, more insistently this time, and Ubuntu raised a finger as if to pause the narrative. "But—and hear me out—my stomach is about five seconds away from committing some serious crimes against me if I don't eat something soon. I'm not talking about the light 'oh, I'm kind of hungry' feeling. No. This is 'I'm going to pass out and dream of burgers if I don't eat.'"
He waited, as if expecting some kind of cosmic response. The wind blew gently, rustling the dead trees nearby. Silence. Still no food.
"See? Nothing. And I know you guys are out there, reading this, thinking I'm just being lazy or selfish or whatever. But I'm telling you—my stomach is going to riot if I don't do something about this."
He took a deep breath, squinting in the direction of the scream again. "So, let's do this. We've got two options here. Option one: I stop, find something to eat, and then maybe I go save the girl afterward. You know, if I'm feeling up to it. Option two: I go now, rescue her on an empty stomach, and probably get hangry halfway through the fight. Trust me, no one wants to see that."
Another pause. He folded his arms across his chest, pacing slowly as he considered the situation. The sound of the scream had all but faded by now, just a distant echo on the wind.
"Think about it," he continued, gesturing with his hands. "If I save her while I'm starving, there's a real chance I might mess it up. Like, what if I faint halfway through? Then we're both screwed. And honestly, I don't even know what kind of enemies I'd be up against. If it's more of those shadow guys from the fortress, I'm going to need all my strength—and that means carbs. Maybe some protein. Something to get the energy levels back up."
He stopped pacing, turning to face an imaginary audience again. "So, here's the deal. We either take a quick pit stop to find food, or she... you know, figures it out on her own for a bit. She'll be fine. People in these situations always are. Right?"
His stomach let out one final, monstrous growl, and Ubuntu nodded decisively.
"Alright. That settles it."
He clapped his hands together, turning his back on the direction of the scream. "We're getting food. She can hang in there a little longer."
With that, he began walking away, whistling to himself as he went, his eyes scanning the horizon for anything that looked remotely edible.
"Priorities," he said, as if explaining to someone. "It's all about priorities."