Sanza Kaplan Figarland's small frame darted through the chaos, his bamboo sword swinging in wild arcs. His brow was drawn down over his piercing eyes, and his high-crust posh accent cut through the noise like a blade.
"I AM THE FUTURE SUPREME COMMANDER!" he shrieked, with absolute conviction. "YOU CANNOT STOP ME! I WILL—"
Captain Beatrix Fern blocked his strike with Trevor, her massive garden hoe. The impact sent a shockwave through Sanza's arms, and he stumbled back, his eyes wide with surprise.
Beatrix's emerald eyes narrowed. Her wide-brimmed floppy sun hat cast a shadow over her freckled face, and her copper-red hair was pulled into its severe practical low bun. The Steel Seeker—her hori-hori knife—was tucked into her heavy-duty waxed-canvas crossback apron, and The Reaper's Touch—her pruning snips—hung from a leather loop at her hip.
"You're a child with a death wish," she observed, her voice flat. "And I'm going to send you back to your nanny."
Sanza's face contorted with fury. "VILE WOMAN! I AM NOT A CHILD! I AM—"
"You're eight," Beatrix interrupted, swinging Trevor in a wide arc. "You're eight, you have a bamboo sword, and you're in the middle of a battlefield. What do you think is going to happen?"
Sanza dodged, barely, his small frame scrambling out of the way. "I AM—I AM THE—"
"Stop talking and start surviving."
---
Atlas Acuta's rust-red fur was matted with sweat and ash, his leopard-like black spots blending with the chaos of the battlefield. His blue sapphire irises glowed faintly with Electro, and his charcoal-tufted ears twitched forward as he ducked under Vice Admiral Auricha Uzumati's massive paw.
The short-faced bear was a wall of muscle and fury, his fourteen-foot frame towering over Atlas like a mountain. His jaws snapped, his claws carved trenches in the earth, and his roars shook the very foundations of the plains.
Atlas's grin was sharp, predatory. "You know, I've fought a lot of people. But you're the first one who's actually made me work for it."
Auricha's voice boomed, wild and untamed. "YOU THINK THIS IS WORK, BOY? THIS IS PLAY!"
He lunged, his massive claws swinging in a devastating arc. Atlas ducked, rolling under the blow, and came up behind him.
"I've got to say," Atlas called out, Electro crackling along his fists, "you're not as impressive in person as the stories made you out to be!"
Auricha spun, his paw connecting with Atlas's chest and sending him flying. Atlas hit the ground hard, rolling, his fur matted with dust and blood.
He pushed himself up, spitting out a mouthful of dirt. His grin was back, wider than ever.
"Okay," he admitted. "Maybe you're a little impressive."
Bō-Zak's screech cut through the chaos.
Atlas looked up, his blue eyes finding the condor circling overhead. A small swarm of locust buzzed past, their wings humming, and Atlas's grin widened.
"Time to go," he muttered.
Auricha roared, lunging toward him. "YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST RUN AWAY?"
Atlas dodged, his body moving with the fluid grace of a predator. "Sorry, big guy. There's somewhere I have to be."
He raced toward Sanza, his boots pounding against the earth. The boy was still battling Beatrix, his bamboo sword swinging in wild arcs, his voice rising in a constant stream of theatrical defiance.
"COME ON, KID!" Atlas called out. "TIME TO GO!"
Sanza's eyes lit up. "RIGHT!"
He dodged Beatrix's swing, his small body shifting from hybrid form to beast form. The majestic white tiger emerged, its three tails flowing behind it, its golden horns gleaming. It leaped through the air, catching up to Atlas as they raced away.
Auricha's roar shook the valley. "AFTER THEM! DO NOT LET THEM ESCAPE!"
---
Petra Ven surfaced from the ground like a shark breaching the surface of the ocean, her stonefish form a nightmare of mottled grey-brown and warty growths. Her thirteen massive dorsal spines dripped with concentrated venom, and her bulging eyes fixed on the fleeing figures with cold, analytical focus.
Topiaris Tidaltuff bounded beside her, his royal poodle form a study in elegant fury. His voluminous silver-white pompadour was immaculate, his light blue eyes blazing with indignation. His corded fur bristled with steel-wool armor, and his pearly teeth gleamed in the dying sunlight.
Their gaze landed on the short-nosed bear, Vice Admiral Auricha Uzumati, and Captain Beatrix Fern as they perused the three-tailed tiger, Sanza, pivoting through the air and Atlas.
"This is an UNSIGHTLY MESS!" Topiaris barked, his voice carrying that refined, dramatic cadence. "They're RUINING the aesthetics of this chase!"
Petra's voice emerged, flat and unamused. "You're worried about aesthetics?"
"Of course I'm worried about aesthetics! A proper pursuit should have symmetry! Balance! DRAMATIC TENSION!"
They joined the chase, their forces fanning out behind them. The Grooming Squad and Petra's squad followed, their boots pounding against the earth.
Ahead, Enan Naiporo saw them coming.
The young scout was rallying the Native warriors, his voice cutting through the chaos with that sharp, mocking lilt. "VIEW FROM THE CLOUDS, PEOPLE! THEY'RE CHASING OUR FRIENDS! AND WE CAN'T HAVE THAT, CAN WE?"
The warriors roared in response.
Enan's obsidian eyes gleamed. He raised his great ridge bow, nocked a steel-feather arrow, and let it fly. The arrow whistled through the air, a sharp, cutting note that carried across the valley like a bird's call.
"FOR THE COUNCIL!" Enan shouted. "FOR AMISO!"
The warriors surged forward, intercepting the Grooming Squad and Petra's forces. Steel clashed against steel, and the battlefield erupted into chaos.
Topiaris barked orders, his voice cutting through the noise. "Grooming Squad, hold them off! We don't need to defeat them—just keep them busy!"
His squad obeyed, their training taking over as they engaged the Native warriors.
Petra and Topiaris continued their pursuit, their eyes fixed on Atlas and Sanza.
--
Captain Joy Jenebe burst from the treeline, her jerboa form a blur of sandy-brown fur and explosive speed. Her massive ears twitched, catching the sounds of the chase, and her long, tufted tail flicked with excitement.
"CHU-CHU-CHU-PYAAA!" she called out, her voice carrying that warm, encouraging quality that made even her battle cries sound like a pep talk. "TIME TO SHOW THEM WHAT WE'VE GOT!"
Captain Sane Galedo burst from the treeline beside her, his saiga form a strange, almost alien silhouette. His massive, drooping snout hung over his mouth, his amber horns gleaming in the dying sunlight. His voice emerged, flat and thoughtful, carrying that weary, melancholic cadence.
"We are going to make them pay for what they did!"
Joy's ears twitched. "YES, WE HAVE TO REDEEM OURSELVES! MAKE THEM REGRET THE DAY THEY TIED US UP!"
Sane snorted, a sound that was both resigned and amused. "YES."
They joined the chase, their forms bounding across the plains. Topiaris barked at them, with theatrical indignation.
"About time you showed up! We were starting to think you'd gotten lost!"
Sane's voice was flat, unbothered. "The nose knows. We found you."
"Disgusting," Topiaris muttered. "That's not even a proper insult."
Joy's laugh cut through the chaos, warm and infectious. "CHU-CHU-CHU-PYAAA! KEEP UP, POODLE!"
Topiaris's pompadour bristled with indignation. "I am NOT a poodle! I am a ROYAL POODLE! There's a difference!"
"I don't see one!"
---
Sanza's small beast form bounded through the air, his three tails streaming behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, his golden eyes wide with alarm.
"THEY'RE CHASING US!" he called out in panic. "THEY'RE—THEY'RE—"
Atlas's grin was sharp, macking. "Let's see if they can keep up."
Sanza blinked. "WHAT? WHAT DOES THAT—"
Atlas leaped up, his powerful arms wrapping around Sanza's small form. The boy squealed as Atlas tucked him under his arm, his legs pumping as he hit the ground running.
Electro crackled along Atlas's fur, blue lightning dancing across his shoulders and down his arms. The air around him hummed with energy, and the world blurred as he accelerated.
"ATLAS!" Sanza shrieked, his voice rising to a desperate pitch. "PUT ME DOWN! I AM—I AM THE FUTURE SUPREME COMMANDER! I DO NOT GET CARRIED!"
"YOU'RE EIGHT!" Atlas shouted back, in that taunting, feral edge. "YOU'RE EIGHT, AND YOU'RE SLOW, AND I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!"
"I AM NOT SLOW! I AM—"
Atlas's Electro flared, and the world around them turned into a streak of blurred color. The ground rushed beneath them, and the chasing Navy fell behind, their shouts fading into the distance.
Sanza's protests dissolved into a series of indignant squeaks.
The chase continued, a storm of fur, steel, and fury across the Tatanka Plains.
And somewhere ahead, the Red Rampart rose, its rusted cliffs stood witness in dying sunlight like a promise of sanctuary.
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