Alexander's world flipped upside down, and he felt his feet leave the ground. He could feel his torso and one of his legs being tightly gripped. A wave of fear spread through his entire body. Yet the feeling seemed wrong to him. It wasn't his. The hatchling's body was filled with a storm of chemicals, and it was interfering with Alexander's control.
Everything had happened too suddenly, but he gathered all his focus to understand the situation he was in. The mountains were rushing beneath him, and he had little time. He lifted his head and tried to identify the creature that had seized him. He saw a bird with black and yellow feathers and a strange-looking head, far larger than the hatchlings.
It was beating its wings, trying to climb as high as possible. Alexander had no idea how high they already were, but he understood that if he didn't act immediately, the Drone had no chance of escaping. He tried to sink his teeth into one of the talons gripping him, but he couldn't reach it. His head was hanging downward. Instead, he lashed out with all his strength and struck with his claw. The claw grazed the bird's leg, and at the same moment the bird let out a sharp scream.
The scream was so intense that Alexander felt it echo inside his skull. As the sound reverberated through his head, his world began spinning violently. The cry was damaging the balance crystals inside his inner ear.
Even as everything spun, he kept striking with his claws. Most of his blows missed, but the ones that sank into the bird's leg must have hurt badly, because the bird tightened its grip as much as it could. Alexander felt his torso being crushed inward. He was struggling to breathe.
He couldn't be certain, but they might already have been more than fifty meters above the ground. Still, he kept fighting. No matter how hard he resisted, only one of his claws could reach his enemy. The situation kept getting worse, and his movements slowed. Then suddenly, Alexander felt his mind drop into complete emptiness.
The neurons that allowed him to control the Drone had been fully committed to the task, but now the entire structure collapsed into confusion. The connection between him and the Drone had been severed.
It took several seconds for Alexander's brain to recover and begin processing signals from his own body again. He opened his eyes. The small Drones had gathered beneath his legs, seeking protection. He lifted his gaze toward the sky.
The hunting bird was still clutching the hatchling tightly in both talons while the hatchling continued struggling helplessly. The Drone had moved far beyond Alexander's control range.
Alexander could only watch in stunned silence as a member of his swarm was carried away before his eyes. Anger surged within him, but he knew it was useless right now. For the first time, he had personally experienced what it felt like not to be the hunter, but the prey.
It took him a while to recover from the shock. Only after the bird disappeared from sight did he finally regain himself. He focused on his emotions. He was angry. He was frustrated. He had tasted helplessness firsthand. Many tangled feelings churned inside him, but after some effort, he managed to silence them.
First, he needed to avoid any further threats. He carefully scanned the surroundings. He shouldn't remain here any longer. And so he continued toward the trees where he had planned to rest.
Within an hour, he reached his destination. Together with his Drones, he climbed onto the thick branches of a large tree, and there they all fell asleep.
Alexander opened his eyes with the first light of morning. He felt strange—perhaps a little depressed. It was the first real loss he had suffered. Still, he felt it was better to focus on what remained in his hands, and with that thought he woke the swarm early. Together, they began moving upward once more.
Hours passed one after another. At times the terrain became nearly impossible to cross, but after six hours of travel, they finally managed to reach a high vantage point—if not the very peak of the mountain, then at least a place high enough to overlook the entire surrounding region.
Alexander took a deep breath. The air was thinner here.
"That really was a long climb," he thought, fixing his gaze on the endless expanse of the savanna stretching before him.
The sight before him left Alexander completely motionless.
From this height, the savanna no longer looked like a single endless sea of grass. Instead, it unfolded in layers, revealing a landscape filled with subtle variations and quiet detail. In some places the grasses grew tall and dense, forming dark green bands that swayed slowly beneath the wind. In others they thinned and faded into wide yellow stretches where the soil showed through like open wounds across the land. Patches of reddish earth interrupted the plains here and there, marking older, drier ground, while scattered ponds of varying sizes glimmered faintly in the distance.
Here and there, acacia trees rose across the plain like silent sentinels. Their wide crowns cast thin shadows that stretched in long lines across the open terrain. Between them, clusters of low shrubs formed irregular corridors of cover. Even from this distance, Alexander could detect faint traces of movement.
At first glance, the land had seemed empty.
But as he watched more carefully, he began to notice them.
Small shapes moved slowly across the plains. Herd animals advanced in loose formations, weaving their way between dry depressions, scattered ponds, and greener feeding grounds. Farther away, solitary silhouettes—likely predators—kept their distance from the larger herds, moving along the shaded edges of the grasslands. Life was everywhere, though spread thin across the vast expanse.
Then he turned his gaze in another direction.
There, the savanna gradually gave way to rising rocky terrain. Broad fields of stone stretched outward in uneven ridges and broken terraces, climbing steadily until they merged with the mountains beneath him. Beyond them, the land grew harsher and darker.
Behind him, there were only mountains.
Layer upon layer of jagged rock rose toward the horizon, stretching endlessly as if they formed a silent wall separating this land from whatever lay beyond.
The view from the mountain's heights was breathtaking. But Alexander had not climbed here merely to admire its beauty.
He wanted to carve the region he saw into his memory.
Slowly, carefully, he began examining every detail within his field of vision.
As his gaze followed the line of the horizon, he suddenly noticed another thin line cutting across it.
He narrowed his eyes.
"A branch of the river reaches even this far…" he thought.
That meant the water system extended across a much wider territory than he had expected. And where there was water, life would be spread far more broadly across the region.
He turned his attention toward the rocky terrain that had caught his eye earlier.
There, a vast stone-covered expanse stretched across the land, completely devoid of grass. Tens of thousands of massive rocks were scattered across the area. Even from this distance, some of them were large enough to stand out clearly. He carefully scanned the entire region, searching for movement, shadows, or any sign of life—but found nothing.
No herds.
No predators.
Not even birds circling overhead.
Only silence.
Then suddenly, his gaze locked onto something.
He tried to make sense of what he was seeing. For a moment, he even thought his eyes were deceiving him.
One of the rocks was different.
It was as large as the others—but its shape was wrong.
Too regular. Too deliberate.
It looked as if several rectangular and triangular blocks had been stacked together. Its edges were straight. Its corners sharp. Its surfaces bore no resemblance to stone shaped by wind or time.
It looked… artificial.
Alexander's heartbeat quickened, and a single question formed in his mind:
"Could it be that I am not alone on this planet?"