Forget about my previous life. Now I'm a bird, reborn into this strange world that seems determined to work against me. Oddly enough, why does being a bird feel... natural? More so than I ever felt as a human. Am I thinking more like a bird now? Is that a good thing or a warning sign?
These thoughts spiraled through John's mind, lingering like echoes in an empty cavern.
The sharp, mocking chirp of Bubble shattered his reflection, yanking him back to reality.
John, the mockingbird, spread his wings and took flight, cutting through the still, heavy air of the cavern. Below, the twisted power dynamics played out like a cruel theater. The psycho sparrow, Bubble, hovered imperiously, raining down mental and physical torment on Blackie.
Blackie made another breakthrough, its resolve burning brighter than ever. Yet, just as it pushed forward, a heavy water bullet slammed into it, driving it back down with a crushing force.
Nearby, the once-proud woodpecker lay crumpled on the ground, its unconscious form a silent testament to Bubble's relentless trials. Yet, even in defeat, its body twitched faintly, as though clinging to the faint hope of turning this ordeal into an opportunity.
With a steady beat of his wings, John soared toward the confrontation, his sharp gaze sweeping over the scene. His mind churned with possibilities, weaving together unspoken plans as he neared the heart of the chaos.
"Master, forgive me for breaking my promise," Bubble chirped, its tone calm and measured despite the carnage it had wrought. "I couldn't end them—they were once my flock. I need a solid reason, like betrayal, to justify their demise. Weakness and lack of cleverness are their faults, but I've awakened all their innate skills. Surely, they can be of some use to you. Especially this woodpecker—it didn't even need my help."
John's sharp beak curved into a wry grin as his cold tone sliced through the tension. "Alright, no sweat. I can't agree more. Sure, being stupid isn't their fault."
His gaze shifted to the unconscious Blackie, a flicker of thought crossing his eyes. "Still, I believe that Woodpecker could become the leader of this bunch."
Bubble let out an annoyed chirp. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Relax," John said smoothly. "I've got something better in mind for you. With your skills and attitude, I want you to serve as the clan's executioner and punisher."
Bubble tilted its head, its tone softening with curiosity. "Executioner? Does that outrank Blackie's position?"
John chuckled inwardly. Is this the same psycho sparrow who terrified everyone earlier? Or has it suddenly grown a conscience?
"Don't even compare," he replied. "Your role is special—a rank above everyone else. Your title alone will send shivers down their feathers. In short, you answer only to me."
Bubble puffed up at the recognition but hesitated.
John, sensing the need to keep the momentum, cut in, "Alright, enough talk. Time to end this game."
Bubble blinked. "Master, isn't the game already over?"
"There's still you and me," John said, his voice sharp. "Now listen closely: don't hold back. Fight me with everything you've got. If you don't, I'll disown you."
The word disown struck Bubble like a physical blow, causing its feathers to ruffle involuntarily.
"Then prepare yourself!" Bubble chirped, its usual cockiness tempered by determination. "I'll use every ounce of strength to take you down. Not that I think I can—your greatness is still far beyond me."
"Focus," John ordered, his wings cutting cleanly through the air as he moved toward the five levitating water spheres. He hovered within their range, his eyes locked on Bubble. "This is your last warning. Don't hold back, or you'll regret it."
Bubble hesitated for only a second before the spell activated. Hundreds of water bullets shot toward John in a relentless barrage, tearing through the air with lethal precision.
"Be careful, Master Singer!" Bubble warned, its voice tinged with genuine concern.
John flapped his wings, his sharp beak parting as he exhaled slowly. A shimmering bubble began to form, expanding as he blew, growing larger until it enveloped him entirely.
The water bullets struck the bubble from all sides, but each one dissolved on contact, disappearing like drops of rain absorbed into a still lake.
Inside, John remained calm, his wings beating lazily as he floated in place.
Bubble's eyes widened in disbelief. "Isn't that... the Bubble Guard? My skill?"
"Enough chit-chat," John said coldly. "Keep going."
Bubble faltered for a moment, then regained its composure. Master is master, after all. Tricks like these are nothing to him.
But John's thoughts ran deeper. Don't get overconfident, little sparrow. Did you really think I'd face you unprepared? Bubble, my genius apprentice, I've already uncovered every one of your secrets. You're an open book to me. Now it's time to show you that no matter how smart you think you are, I'm always a step ahead.
Bubble narrowed its eyes, its wings flaring with renewed determination. "Understood, Sir Singer. I'll give you everything I've got!"
John smirked, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and challenge. Let's see if you can handle what's coming.
Bubble chirped the same chant it had used before, but this time, its small form danced mid-air, gracefully pirouetting with a precision that belied its size.
A strange fluctuation rippled through the air, a fierce aura emanating from Bubble and channeling into the five water spheres suspended above. Yet, Bubble didn't stop there—it continued singing its sweet, enchanting tune.
The five water masses began to move, aligning into a synchronized revolution. They spun faster and faster, forming an orbit with John at the very center.
John tilted his head, observing the sparrow's spellwork with a mix of disappointment and faint amusement. "Ah, so that's your plan? Power up the seal and spin me to my demise? What a letdown."
Bubble ignored him, its focus unwavering as it drove the spell forward.
The air inside the cave grew heavy, and thick with energy. Suddenly, a cyclone materialized, waterspouts forming and converging with terrifying force toward John.
Bubble's voice carried above the roar of the cyclone. "Unlike Master, I still have a long way to go. This is the best I can do with this spell for now. Please, teach me how to counter this Tropical Cyclone Skill of mine," it chirped in a tone so sweet it almost betrayed the chaos it had created.
John chuckled inwardly, a stream of thoughts racing through his mind. Teach you, huh? Well, that's simple enough. Though, I doubt your tiny birdbrain can grasp the scientific workings behind a cyclone. The culprit is always the low atmospheric pressure at the center. The size and strength of the cyclone? Determined by how low that pressure drops. Back on Earth, scientists struggled to tame these beasts. But here? I'll show you how it's done.
Fixing his gaze on the swirling chaos, John's beak parted, and he began to sing. The melody was soft but deliberate, laced with power.
Bubble's eyes widened in recognition. "It's the same spell! But... wait—it's been modified!" It chirped in disbelief, its feathers puffing up. How is Master going to stop my cyclone?
The bubble shielding John shimmered and vibrated. As the cyclone surged toward him, his protective bubble suddenly budded, forming another smaller bubble.
The cyclone struck—but instead of consuming him, the newly formed bubble absorbed the low-pressure energy at its core. Under John's precise control, the bubble holding the dangerous energy was ejected from the cave.
A deafening explosion echoed from outside, shaking the cave walls and rumbling through the ground.
Bubble froze mid-flight, shuddering in terror. For a moment, its tiny birdbrain struggled to process what had just happened. Was... was my spell that powerful?
Cracks formed in the cyclone's structure as its core energy dissipated. The spinning waters expanded outward, disintegrating into a harmless vapor that rained down on the cave floor.
The scattered water pooled and ran off in streams, gradually revealing the unconscious birds scattered across the cave. One by one, they stirred, blinking awake in confusion.
Bubble watched as its defeated flock rose, its terror giving way to something closer to awe. "Master..." it muttered, its voice trembling. "How... how did you do that?"
John remained silent, lazily flapping his wings as he hovered in the air, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos moments ago. Lesson learned, little sparrow. There's always someone stronger—and smarter.
He broke the silence, his voice sharp and laced with mockery. "I've already shown you enough, and yet you still call yourself a genius? Stop fooling around and come at me with everything you've got. The others are already waking up, so let's end this quickly."
His words cut through the cave like a blade, leaving an air of tension as the recently awakened birds stirred.
Even in their weakened states, the flock couldn't help but exchange subtle glances, each bird well aware that Bubble wasn't faring well against their master. Their bruised egos and shattered pride kept them quiet, their beaks firmly shut.
Still, the flock couldn't resist imagining the poetic justice that might befall the psycho sparrow. Bubble—the self-proclaimed genius, the tyrant who humiliated and broke us—finally humbled and beaten into the ground.
It was a grim fantasy born from bitterness and defeat, their battered egos clinging to the hope of seeing the tables turn. Vengeance, even if it was delivered through their master's hands, felt like a balm for their collective pride.
Bubble, completely unaware of the dark musings brewing among the flock, flared its wings dramatically. Its chirp carried an uncharacteristic mix of humility and nervousness.
"I admit my inferiority, my master," Bubble said, its tone unusually soft yet still laced with a stubborn edge. "I'll do my best... but please, show me some mercy."
John raised an eyebrow—or what might pass for one on a bird—and let out a dry chuckle. The mighty Bubble, begging for mercy? Now this is a performance worth watching. No?