Before anyone could react, the panther struck.
It was massive—easily twice the size of any panther in recorded history. With a single swipe of its razor-sharp claws, it tore through a worker, leaving his body in pieces. Blood splattered across the dirt as screams erupted around the site.
The beast didn't pause.
It lunged at another worker, who barely had time to react. Desperately, he swung his pickaxe down, aiming for the panther's skull.
Clang.
The metal blade barely left a scratch. The panther didn't even flinch.
With terrifying speed, it lunged forward and clamped its powerful jaws around the man's head—ripping it clean off.
Panic exploded among the workers.
"Oh shit! Oh shit! That was our strongest powered worker!" someone screamed. "RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"
Chaos.
Bodies scattered in every direction. Some sprinted toward the treeline, others toward the road, desperate to escape. But the panther wasn't done. It wanted more.
Kyren froze.
His legs felt like lead—like stone and jelly all at once. He couldn't move, couldn't think, could barely breathe as the beast locked eyes with him.
Then, it charged.
Kyren's mind screamed at him to react, but his body refused to listen. At the last possible second, instinct took over. He dove forward, barely dodging the panther's massive claws—
WHAM!
Pain exploded through his chest as the panther's paw connected, sending him flying. His body tumbled across the dirt before skidding to a stop nearly fifteen yards away.
The world spun.
Kyren's ears rang. His vision blurred.
Somewhere in the distance, he heard the crunching of bones, the gurgled screams of dying men. He tried to move, to regain focus, but everything felt distant, foggy—like he was trapped in slow motion.
Then, silence.
A heavy thud shook the ground.
The panther was approaching. Slowly. Carefully.
Kyren could feel its presence looming over him. It was checking—making sure its prey was truly dead.
A cold dread seeped into his bones, deeper than anything he had ever felt before. His body refused to respond. His limbs were useless, his mind a mess of pain and exhaustion.
Was this it?
Was he going to die here, powerless and forgotten?
Then—
"Ding."
A chime rang inside his head.
A robotic voice—his own, but different, artificial—spoke in a monotone:
"Mission: Slay the Panther."