A faint laugh drifted through the air… then slowly faded.
The woman's expression changed the moment she heard the word.
"Migration…"
Her voice dropped lower.
"Three moons?"
She repeated it again, slower this time, as if tasting the weight of it.
"Isn't that too short?"
Her eyes moved across the broken land beyond the tribe. Wind dragged dust between dead trees. The ground itself looked tired, cracked, forgotten.
"What are we really running from, Tribe Leader?"
A pause.
Then her voice sharpened.
"The Perezoso… or something worse?"
Silence hit the tribe instantly.
Even the wind felt like it stopped moving.
Demos stood at the center.
His expression didn't change—but his eyes were heavy.
"We leave," he said.
His voice carried across the camp.
"The Tall People are tracking us. If we stay, we die here."
A few children shifted behind the adults.
Somebody swallowed hard.
Demos continued.
"We leave on the third moon."
That was it.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Just certainty.
The woman's face went pale.
Her legs gave out.
She collapsed onto the dirt with a soft thud, fingers shaking against the ground.
But Demos didn't move toward her.
He didn't soften his voice.
"I will scout ahead," he added.
"In two moons, I will find us a safe path."
His eyes lifted slightly.
"A new home."
A pause.
"When I return… we move."
His gaze swept across them.
"Together."
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then slowly—
heads nodded.
Not because they were ready…
but because they had no other choice.
TWO MOONS LATER
The tribe moved through exhaustion.
Feet dragging through dirt.
Hands wrapped in torn cloth.
Children carried on backs.
Old men leaning on sticks carved from dead wood.
The land around them felt like it was rotting alive.
And Demos was gone.
Searching.
Climbing cliffs.
Crossing rivers that screamed too loudly.
Until—
he found it.
A valley hidden beyond a mountain ridge.
Green.
Alive.
Almost unreal compared to everything behind them.
But the journey back was not mercy.
It was punishment.
When he returned, the tribe was waiting.
Silent.
Tired.
Watching him like he was either salvation…
or death.
He stepped forward.
"I found it."
A pause.
"A new home."
Whispers moved through the group.
Something fragile sparked inside them.
Hope.
Demos didn't smile much.
He pointed toward the mountain.
"There's a valley beyond it. We go there. We survive there."
His voice lowered slightly.
"And we don't look back."
He looked at them all.
Fifty souls.
Broken.
Worn.
But still breathing.
"They will come with me," he said.
"Gorthok. Ryker. Kael. Maverick. Thane."
His grip tightened slightly.
"And all of you."
THE JOURNEY
The mountain stood like a dead giant.
Its surface was rough stone and broken cliffs.
Below it—
a river.
Not calm.
Not flowing.
It roared.
Like something alive.
Like something angry.
Demos stopped at the edge.
The sound alone was heavy—
ROOOOAAARRR…
Wind mixed with water spray hit their faces.
Then—
movement in the shadows.
A low, wet sound.
GRRHHH…
Another.
Then another.
From the dark forest beside the river—
they came out.
Perezosos.
Huge.
Fur matted with dirt and blood.
Claws scraping stone as they walked.
SCRRRAAAAPE…
The tribe froze instantly.
Someone stepped back.
A child whimpered softly.
Demos raised his axe slowly.
"Take the children and climb," he said.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
"Now."
Akira grabbed a child who had fallen and pushed him forward.
"Go! Move!"
The tribe began scrambling up the mountain slope.
Stones rolled under their feet.
Breath turned sharp.
But behind them—
Demos didn't move.
Then—
the warriors stepped forward.
One by one.
Gorthok.
Kael.
Ryker.
Thane.
Maverick.
They formed a line behind him.
Not ordered.
Not forced.
Chosen.
The first Perezoso lunged.
The ground BOOMED under its weight.
Dirt exploded outward.
Demos moved instantly.
His axe came down—
THUNK!
Bone cracked.
Blood splashed across stone.
But more were coming.
Too many.
The forest erupted with movement.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Claws hit the ground.
The sound of tearing air followed—
SHRRRIIIIK!
Ryker screamed as a claw ripped across his arm.
"ARGH—!"
Blood sprayed onto the dirt.
Maverick was thrown sideways—
CRASH!
He hit the ground hard, bone snapping with a dry CRK.
Thane barely blocked a strike—
CLANG!
—but the force still threw him back.
Kael slid across stone, coughing blood.
Gorthok roared, swinging wildly.
"COME ON!"
But even he staggered when a claw slammed into his ribs—
THUD! CRACK!
Demos saw it all.
His eyes narrowed.
"Fall back!"
The command cut through the chaos.
"Get them up the mountain! I'll hold them!"
The warriors hesitated.
Just a moment.
Then they obeyed.
Dragging the wounded.
Running uphill.
But none of them stopped looking back.
Demos stood alone now.
The wind hit his face.
Fifty Perezosos surrounded him.
Slowly circling.
Claws scraping the ground.
skrrt… skrrt… skrrt…
He exhaled once.
Then smiled.
And moved.
The world turned violent.
His axe swung—
WHOOOM!
One fell.
Blood sprayed across stone.
Another lunged—
GRRRRAA!
Demos ducked.
Claws passed over his head—
SWOOSH!
He struck upward—
CRACK!
Bone shattered.
But pain followed instantly.
A claw ripped across his shoulder—
SHHHHK!
Blood poured down his arm.
He gritted his teeth.
"ngh…"
Then—
something inside him flickered.
Lightning cracked through his veins.
ZZZZT!
His eyes lit up.
Bright.
Wild.
The air itself felt heavier.
The Perezosos hesitated.
That hesitation cost them.
Demos moved again.
Faster.
Harder.
Each axe swing came with sound now—
BOOM. CRACK. THUD.
Bodies dropped.
One after another.
Fur.
Blood.
Stone.
All mixing together.
But his breathing grew heavier.
Haa… haa… haa…
His body started breaking.
Muscles tore.
Blood soaked his skin.
Still—
he didn't stop.
Above him, the tribe watched.
Silent.
Frozen.
Even the wind felt afraid.
Because what they were seeing—
was not survival anymore.
It was something else.
The final wave came.
All at once.
Claws from every direction.
SHRIIIIK!
The world flashed white.
Then—
silence.
Demos stood alone.
Barely.
His axe trembling in his hand.
Blood dripping into the dirt.
Then—
his knees gave out.
He collapsed.
"Demos!"
Footsteps.
Fast.
Maverick and Thane rushed down despite their injuries.
They reached him.
He wasn't moving.
Only breathing.
Barely.
Thane's hand shook as he touched his shoulder.
"…Demos?"
No answer.
Only the wind moving across the dead battlefield.
And somewhere above—
the tribe realized something silently.
Their leader had not fallen yet.
But he had paid for every second of their survival.