Mira's father, Erik, paced back and forth across his living room, the lights dim in the cozy but well-fortified cabin that served as their home. His fingers tapped rhythmically against his arm as he glanced for the umpteenth time at the communicator's screen on his wrist. It still showed nothing—no response, no signal, nothing but the last set of coordinates he'd received from Mira's device.
"C'mon, Mira, pick up…" he muttered to himself, his voice strained with a worry that was quickly turning into something else. She was out in the Untamed Region, far from any safe zone, and alone for the first time. This wasn't like the times they'd gone together, where he could keep an eye on her and teach her in real-time how to handle herself.
But she'd insisted, hadn't she? Said she was ready to do it by herself. He'd been reluctant but proud, a strange mix of emotions tugging at him as he watched her pack her gear earlier today. He'd almost told her to stay home, but she'd just turned eighteen. She'd grown up faster than he liked, and he knew she wouldn't back down from her desire to prove herself. And now…
"She'll be fine," he told himself, more forcefully this time. She was a skilled hunter, one of the best shots he'd ever seen, and smart too. There wasn't much in those woods that could catch her off-guard.
Still, a sinking feeling in his stomach wouldn't leave him alone. It wasn't that she hadn't called him back yet—that could be explained away by her focus on tracking a target or getting caught up in something else. No, it was the way she'd sounded the last time they spoke—excited, yes, but also a little… nervous.
"Dammit…" He ran a hand through his graying hair and exhaled sharply. He tried to think of all the possible reasons she wasn't responding: maybe she'd dropped her communicator, or maybe it had malfunctioned in the humidity of the jungle. But each time he thought he'd found a reasonable explanation, his mind circled back to darker scenarios.
She'd been tracking a Gorath—a creature known for its violent temper and monstrous strength. Even fully-grown hunters stayed clear of those beasts, and though he'd trained her to handle herself, he worried about her taking it on alone. She was strong and skilled, but the Gorath was no ordinary prey.
"No. She's fine. She'll be back any minute," he said aloud, trying to push away the dread. But he could feel it—an instinct deeper than logic or experience, a gnawing certainty that something was wrong.
Erik closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and reached out with his senses. The cabin faded away, and his awareness stretched outward, expanding over the vast jungle beyond. He searched for that familiar presence, the unique energy signature that was his daughter's. He'd taught her to mask it, but no one could completely hide from their own blood.
A faint spark, dim but steady, flickered into his mind's eye—there. She was still out there, alive and… moving. Relief washed over him, but it was fleeting. Why hadn't she called if she was okay?
"That's it." His voice was a low growl as he opened his eyes, his worry now hardened into resolve. He wasn't waiting any longer.
Erik stepped out onto the porch of their home, the jungle sprawling out in all directions. Without hesitating, he focused on his energy, letting it build and spread through every muscle and fiber of his being. The air around him crackled, shimmering as he lifted effortlessly off the ground. Then, he shot forward, streaking through the canopy like a bolt of lightning.
"Mira, you better be alright," he murmured as the trees below blurred into a sea of green.
DAVID'S POV
The dense foliage crunched beneath my feet as I followed a few paces behind Mira. The jungle around us was alive with sounds—distant calls, rustling leaves, and the occasional snap of a branch. I watched her move through it with ease, as if she were a part of it, while I lumbered behind, trying not to step on every twig in
She hadn't said much since I'd given her that weak excuse about having amnesia. I'd tried not to look too guilty when I said it, but judging by her silence, it hadn't worked.
Every now and then, I'd catch her glancing at me out of the corner of her eye, suspicion written all over her face. She didn't trust me—understandably so—and I could almost see the gears turning in her head as she tried to figure out what I was hiding.
Maybe I should've just told her the truth, I mused, but even as I thought it, I knew it was a terrible idea. She'd probably think I was insane or worse, a spy or something. Being upfront about being from another world would only complicate things, and I didn't need more problems right now.
But what would happen once I finally made it out of this jungle? What then? I glanced at her again, taking in the strange light green and blue outfit she wore, designed to blend in with the foliage, and the way she moved with practiced efficiency. Everyone I'd seen—or rather, imagined—on this planet was different. Larger, stronger, almost like the creatures themselves. Would people notice right away that I wasn't one of them?
And then there were the even bigger questions: Would they care that I wasn't from here? Would they be able to figure it out? What would happen to me if they did? Would I be able to find a place to live? To survive?
Let's just get out of this jungle and worry about the rest later, I told myself, wiping the sweat from my brow. The humidity here was something else. Even with all the strength I'd gained, I felt like I was walking through a sauna.
"Do you know where we are?" I asked after a long stretch of silence, trying to keep my voice light.
Mira glanced back, her expression unreadable. "Yes. We should be near the main path soon. Once we get there, we'll be home in a few hours… as long as nothing bad happens."
Just as the words left her mouth, a low, rumbling growl echoed through the trees, so deep it seemed to shake the ground beneath our feet.
I froze, my heart pounding as I looked at Mira, her face tense. She glanced around, eyes scanning the shadows.
"What was that?" I whispered, but I already knew it wasn't good.
Another growl—closer this time—reverberated through the air, followed by the snap of branches as something massive moved through the underbrush.
"Get down," Mira hissed, dropping into a crouch behind a thick trunk. I followed suit, my breath catching in my throat as I peered through the foliage.
And then I saw it—a hulking shape emerging from the shadows, its fur dark and matted, eyes glowing like embers in the night.
The massive creature stalked forward, its gaze sweeping over the area. My pulse hammered in my ears as I watched it, every instinct screaming at me to run, to hide, to get as far away from it as possible.
If it saw us, we were done for.
The ape's massive form loomed ahead, its steps reverberating through the ground, shaking leaves from the canopy above. I stayed frozen behind the trunk, willing myself to be as still as a rock. Maybe it would pass by—maybe it wouldn't notice us.
Just keep going. Just keep moving, I chanted silently, my heart hammering so loudly I was sure the beast could hear it. It sniffed the air, its nose twitching as it turned its head in our direction. I clenched my jaw, a cold sweat trickling down my spine.
Please… just go…
For a moment, it seemed like it was about to turn away. I allowed myself a tiny breath of relief—
Snap!
The sound of a twig breaking echoed sharply through the stillness, and I looked down in horror at my foot, now hovering above the shattered remains of a branch.
Shit.
The ape's head snapped back toward us, its eyes narrowing as it honed in on our position. With a guttural snarl, it began moving, closing the distance between us faster than I could comprehend.
"Run!" I yelled, my voice breaking through the tension like a whip crack.
Mira and I burst from our hiding place, tearing through the underbrush as the beast barreled after us. I could hear the heavy thuds of its pursuit, branches breaking, trees shaking, and the hot breath of the creature on the back of my neck.
My legs pumped harder, faster than I thought possible, but a glance over my shoulder made my stomach drop. Mira wasn't keeping up. She was fast, sure, but not as fast as me. Each of my strides seemed to carry me further and further away, the distance between us growing by the second.
Why is she so slow? I thought frantically, then realized the truth. It was me. I was faster—stronger—than I'd ever been, thanks to the grotesque rodent creature. Each bite had strengthened my muscles and bones, made me lighter on my feet. But now… now I was running too far ahead.
There was no way she could outrun it. Not at this pace.
I skidded to a halt, the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut. There's no choice. She won't make it if I don't do something.
"Mira!" I shouted, turning around. "Get out of here! I'll hold it off!"
"What?" she yelled back, panic and confusion flashing across her face. "You can't! You won't survive!"
"Just go!" I barked, my voice low and unyielding.
For a split second, her eyes locked with mine, fear and uncertainty swirling in their depths. Then, with a reluctant nod, she turned and continued running.
The ape was almost upon me, its furious gaze locked on my tiny figure. A primal roar tore from its throat, shaking the very ground beneath me as it charged. I planted my feet, bracing myself for the inevitable clash.
Regret hit me like a wave—sharp and immediate. But only for a moment.
No, I told myself as the beast hurtled closer, its form a blur of muscle and rage. This is the right choice.
With a deep breath, I threw myself to the side just as it lunged, narrowly avoiding the swipe of its massive claws. I darted forward, skirting its reach, and struck out with a swift kick to its injured shoulder.
The ape howled in pain, staggering back, but I knew it was only a small reprieve. I dodged and ducked under another swipe, every muscle in my body screaming with the effort of avoiding its relentless attacks. It was faster than I'd expected, and its strength… if it managed to land a single blow, I'd be finished.
I twisted and weaved, using every ounce of the agility I'd gained from the rodent to keep from getting crushed. My heart pounded, adrenaline surging through my veins as I narrowly avoided its claws again.
The beast's right shoulder—where it had been shot—was a mess of matted fur and dried blood. If not for that injury, I wouldn't have lasted half as long, I thought grimly, dodging yet another swipe. But even with its weakened state, there was no way I could beat this thing head-on. I was just trying to stay alive.
As that realization sunk in, a loud crack echoed through the jungle—a gunshot.
The ape jerked violently, stumbling back as a fresh wound bloomed on its opposite shoulder. For a moment, it was stunned, roaring in rage and confusion.
Mira! My gaze darted around until I spotted her crouched behind a rock, rifle aimed steadily at the beast. She'd used the chaos of the fight to set up a perfect shot.
With the ape momentarily disoriented, I spotted a sharp, sturdy branch on the ground. I didn't think—just grabbed it and charged.
The beast shook its head, trying to clear its vision, but I was already there, branch poised. I aimed for its eye, intending to drive the makeshift spear deep into its skull.
But the ape moved faster than I expected. It roared and swung its massive leg up, blocking my attack. I barely managed to leap aside, avoiding the full brunt of its weight, but the edge of its foot caught my leg.
Pain exploded up my shin, and I crumpled to the ground, a scream tearing from my throat. Agony surged through me, hot and blinding, as I lay there, gasping.
The ape towered above, its eyes narrowing in triumph. Slowly, deliberately, it lifted its leg again, preparing to crush me.
This is it. A grim sense of finality washed over me. I was brought to this world just to die. This can't be how it ends…
I squeezed my eyes shut, accepting the inevitability. I just hoped Mira could get away—could find her way back safely.
Then, just as the beast's massive foot began its descent, a blur shot out of the trees. A fist, glowing with a strange energy, collided with the ape's jaw.
The impact sent a shockwave through the air, and I could only watch in stunned disbelief as the creature's head snapped back. With a sickening crack, the ape crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
I blinked, staring up at the figure standing over me.
A very massive man at least 8 foot tall brimming with muscle, his hand still smoking from the punch, turned to look at me, his expression calm as if he hadn't just downed a creature five times his size with a single blow.
"What?" I croaked, my voice weak and disbelieving.
Because… seriously, what?