Chapter One
LONE SURVIVOR
There are more stars in the universe than grains of sand on every beach. To imagine such abundance might be inconceivable. But to him, it was clear, for it was as if he had awoken upon an infinite bed of gleaming suns.
His strained eyes were overwhelmed by the gold vastness. There was a muffled sound of waves dancing back and forth against his feet. Fully conscious, his confusion subsided, acknowledging he was alive. He coughed out the remaining water from his lungs. His face was partially submerged, nostrils aflame, lips dry and bleeding, clothes saturated and heavy upon his weak frame. Finding enough strength in his arms, he pushed up, spluttered and rolled around into a sitting position. The movement made him aware of an injury to his head.
Aldber was perplexed, looking out at the sprawling ocean. For a while, he sat there staring listlessly, not moving.
The disorientation gradually subsided. He began to digest the circumstances.
Sudden flashes of memory eclipsed his mind.
Aldber was instructed to travel to the Dakbah Mountains a moon cycle prior. The objective was to gather vital information for the escalating war effort. It was the final part of his training.
He had sought passage upon a ship bound across the Great Ocean for the East Lands. The crew let him join them in exchange for an extra hand on deck. Whilst he had no untoward business, he felt it necessary to disguise his identity and distract the attention of the unsavoury kind. Instead, he told them his tribe of origin had been massacred and hoped that the sensitivity of the subject matter would dissuade them from asking any more questions.
When they arrived on the shores of the East Lands, Aldber spent the following week hiking through the dense woodland and hills of the Nemotep Forest. He bathed in cool streams, hunted prey, risked making fires, and had short rests in the undergrowth, often disturbed by unfamiliar noises.
The woodlands disappeared. Grasses steadily gave way to sand. Because of the intensity of the heat, he removed his long overcoat, covered his head with a scarf, and put on goggles to shield his eyes.
Aldber scaled the Zanviki Dunes for a few cycles until the landscape opened onto a plateau. It stretched as far as the eye could behold. He sat there for a while, digesting the view of the Saboontai Desert. Ancient ruins, aircraft debris, and small abandoned settlements peppered the horizon. The heat rippled like a translucent wave upon the sand. He squinted to make out a cluster of vast stone buttes far away in the distance.
The lone traveller continued onwards. The only sign of life was odd small creatures scuttling by. He had to bear the burning heat. Swirling winds in the sunlight. Coldness at night.
He came across the encampment of a small tribe. Once he explained himself, they were welcoming. Later in the cycle, once adequately rested and hydrated, the leader showed him around the camp.
Like the tribes of the West Lands, those who resided here were insular and hostile to outsiders. Everyone shared the same second name to identify with their tribe. Seldom disturbed by the enemy, the tribe enjoyed the luxury of lighting powered by a salvaged rickety generator.
That evening, he joined the tribe for a feast. There was a ritual dance before singing around a large fire. The whole tribe was enraptured in unison, praising their sun god. It was the first time Aldber had met a tribe that didn’t follow the Supreme One, the god he believed in. At first, he was indifferent but was curious and respected their way of life.
Within a few cycles, he passed under the shadow of the great stone buttes that pierced the blue sky. As the terrain began to incline into barren mountains, there was no vegetation, birds soared above, and the heat was exhausting.
The sun ascended to its highest point in the sky. Aldber took refuge in a small cave entrance in the valley. He was not aware that the sound he was making, amplified by the acoustics of the walls, would disturb a four-legged scaled creature, which people of this part of the world call a lizados.
Inconveniently awoken by the commotion, it was intrigued by this new scent. Upon inspection, it saw this large prey lying motionless. It edged closer, licking its scaly lips.
Aldber was startled as the beast ran towards him, its tongue frantically extended. The creature dived at him, but he rolled out of the way. Getting to his feet, he ran out of the entrance, cursing for not checking the cave.
The ravenous creature lunged after him. Aldber pulled the gun from his holster, turned, and fired a shot, hitting the lizados. It barely made a difference, only enraging the creature more so.
The beast took a few moments to regain its focus before pouncing at him again, now locking its fangs onto the weapon. Aldber lost his grip. The creature spat the pistol aside before jumping at him.
It bit into his hand, crunching down savagely.
Aldber despaired, overwhelmed with searing pain, smacking the creature hard in the side of the head. Dislodging his wounded hand, he rolled out of the way, picking up the pistol, regaining his footing with blood pouring everywhere.
The lizados scuttled towards him, pouncing.
He aimed. A gunshot—it reverberated into the valley.
The corpse flew, knocking Aldber from his feet and impaling him to the ground. The pistol fell to one side. He lay tightly clasping its snout, expecting the creature to attack. But it was lifeless, heavy, and omitted a gut-wrenching odour.
Birds skulked patiently overhead.
Suddenly, human hands appeared on either side of him, pulling off the large carcass. Aldber took a deep breath, looking around, seeing a dozen armed and cloaked figures surrounding him.
Uncertain who these people were, Aldber swallowed hard, estimating the likelihood of escaping from this situation. Evidently, it was not in his favour.
One of the new arrivals extended a hand. Aldber accepted the gesture, getting to his feet. The stranger removed its hood, revealing a tanned, bearded man with tribal markings trailing down the side of his face and shoulder-length hair.
At that moment, Aldber realised who they were: his people—the Galardros (‘guardians’ in the Ramasha language).
‘Who are you?’ the stranger questioned in the Common Tongue. ‘And what brings you here?’
‘I am Aldber, a warrior in training, sent here by request of Grand Master Vivid and the elders of the western Sanctuary.’
There was indistinct chatter amongst those gathered.
The stranger smirked. ‘Master Ahura has been expecting you. My name is Le’Dada. I am a member of the council.’
The surrounding warriors proceeded to lower their guns and hoods. Everyone raised one hand, placing it sideways against their foreheads, and reached into the air, this being the special salute. They then proclaimed the oath: ‘In the name of.’
They would apply a dressing to the bleeding wound. Collecting the pistol, Aldber knelt by the dead creature, closing his eyes, resting a hand on it, and whispered a blessing.
They escorted Aldber through a dried riverbed in the valley. The sun passed over the sky, casting shadows against the mountainside. They offered him water. Conversation was limited as few spoke fluently in the Common Tongue.
The group came to an abrupt stop. Le’Dada signalled for him to look up to his left—way up high was a large opening. A soldier whistled. Moments later, several ropes flew down for the arrivals. They invited Aldber to ascend. At the large cave entrance, armed guards flanked two artillery guns.
Le’Dada ushered him down a passageway illuminated by a stream of electric lights winding into the caves. To either side were sleeping quarters and rooms full of supplies. The smell was stale, and the air warm and thick.
Aldber entered a large room. A crack in the ceiling revealed one ray of sunlight that streamed down through the dimness, hitting the centre of the floor. Galardros were standing around computer terminals, deep in discussion. At the far end was a three-dimensional holographic projection of the Dakbah Mountains.
At its side was a man wearing a cloak of superiority. Hearing the commotion, he turned and saw the visitor, his expression changing. He walked forward and welcomed the young traveller with a firm handshake.
‘Aldber, we weren’t sure when to expect your company. I hope you were able to find safe passage through the desert?’ The traveller explained what had happened. ‘I hope that Grand Master Vivid is in good health. How is Hecta, the old devil?’ Master Ahura laughed.
‘Both are very well,’ Aldber said.
Ahura saw the trainee marvelling at the holographic projector. ‘It was salvaged recently, predating the dark times. We have just made a connection with a functional satellite. The readings will help us to understand their movements.’
‘What is the current situation?’
‘We’ve made progress in recent moons to provide a habitable space for the tribes to thrive.’ Ahura pointed to a river that slithered through the mountains and onto the Tier’cho Flats to the northeast. ‘Upon these banks, we hope to one cycle create a new settlement where life can resume. We will bring children into a free new world.’ Aldber saw an element of doubt cover his battle-hardened face. ‘Our immediate concern is Madarosa, the enemy fortress further southeast from here.’ He pressed a few buttons on the computer console. An image appeared of a grotesque metal structure protruding from the desert. The sight of it horrified Aldber. ‘This is their largest stronghold and footing in the East Lands. For many sun cycles, we’ve fought the forces based there. In time, we will launch an offensive to take it.’ He turned to Aldber. ‘Come, I will show you around the complex.’
The master gave his guest a tour of the caves stretching miles into the mountains. Aldber was astounded by their ingenuity to have constructed this base; there was an air ventilation system, water irrigation feed, and several plantations exposed to sunlight. Ahura showed him materials excavation, the medical facility, and a forgery for producing weaponry using designs and manufacturing techniques from ancient times.
When they returned to the control room, it was time for Aldber to discuss the objective of his visit. He approached Ahura, asking: ‘Master, what news is there of Irelaf?’
Aldber awoke with a jolt, gasping for air. He looked around, puzzled. It took a few moments for him to register his surroundings, regaining his breath.
He was sitting in a small cave nestled next to a raging fire. Outside, a howling storm bombarded the coastline. Having washed up upon the shore, he had found this refuge and slept for hours, curled up next to the flames.
Suddenly, he had a discomforting realisation.
Disjointed memories of what had happened: Awaking late into the night by the sound of the storm. Distant shouting from above deck. A loss of balance. Hitting the hull. Water flooding the cabin. Flashes of lightning. Freezing rain streaming down. Gigantic waves dancing viciously around the vessel, surrounding it like moving walls surging high into the blackened skies. Narrowly missing flying debris as several warriors perish overboard. Hit by the breaking mast. Thrown into the cold water. Winded by the force of the collision. Wading past dead bodies to the surface. Blood. A wound to his head. Wreckage. Lightning crackling. Thunder pulsated through his body. The expectation. A devouring, imminent wave. Caste into the merciless depths of the ocean.
Aldber took a moment to digest it all, struck with grief, thinking about the other shipmates who had died. Unable to fathom how he had survived, he touched the throbbing wound on his head. It was still painful but healing.
His gaze returned to the elusive flames, mind wandering.
Suddenly, he felt compelled to get up and leave, knowing the severity of what he had learnt from Master Ahura about Irelaf.
It had to be reported to the council immediately.
Everything would change from here.
But he would have to wait until the storm had passed and the coming of a new cycle. Instead, he pulled the ripped jacket tightly around his weak frame, sat back, and settled. The flickering fire offered warmth and comfort as he looked out of the cave entrance into the bleak night.
Chapter Two
THE OLD CITY
The following morning, with the storm subsiding, Aldber left the cave. He looked along the coastline. Fragments of the ship had washed up on shore. He rummaged around the wreckage for any provisions he could salvage. There was a small bottle with fresh water inside, which he vigorously fed into his dry throat. Afterwards, he dusted off his clothing, tested his torch, cleaned his pistol, and counted the ammunition.
The lone traveller started to make his journey inland. He was unclear where along the long coastline he had been stranded. It would take a cycle to trek through the Seabourne Forest until reaching the outskirts of the Old City. He pressed on through as the terrain inclined.
In the late afternoon, he came to the ruins of a large bridge. It stretched over a river, now dried up, thriving with vegetation. He took cover to inspect the surrounding area. Once convinced it was uninhabited, he ran across, manoeuvring around large holes and scaling broken cables.
This bridge might have led to the great megalopolis. Following the road would take him in the right direction. However, these were common gathering areas for the enemy. He was wary of taking the road directly.
Overhead, Aldber could hear birds singing. He ran across, finding cover. As the sun passed over the horizon, clouds covered the sky. The temperature changed. Far away, there was the crackle of lightning. The rain drummed like the firing of a thousand guns.
Aldber pressed on through the woods into the dead of night, using fragmented moonlight as his guide. When tired and needing to rest, he climbed up a tree and chose a suitable branch on which he precariously lay.
He awoke to dripping water and the harsh racket of a pesky, curious bird perched on an opposing branch. Feeling displeased by this abrupt wakening, the lone traveller grunted disapproval, flicking his hand repeatedly to usher away the bird, which reluctantly took off.
The young warrior rubbed his eyes and took a moment to compose. He was close enough to the top of the canopy to climb up and get a vantage point and view of the surrounding region. Stretching, he scaled a few more branches and pushed through the wet leaves. Emerging, cold winds hit his face.
The sun rose behind him, casting radiant golden sunlight over the majestic woodlands sprawling ahead. It was a world very different to that of his ancestors; much had been reformed and overgrown, though there were stark reminders of the past, for in the distance, he could see the unmistakable outline of the enormous stone and metal structures of the city ruins.
Aldber trekked throughout the morning until emerging from the woodlands to the outskirts of the Old City. There was a gigantic wall, or what remained, as segments had fallen away. What still existed reached high into the sky. A structure of this scale was a foreboding sight.
The wall circled what was once a feat of human engineering, a pinnacle of civilisation before the dark times. It stretched for hundreds of miles to the north and south. Some parts were fully submerged below water. The landscape had changed dramatically.
The megalopolis originated from a time very different to what Aldber knew. He was astounded by how much had survived, considering the countless sun cycles that had passed by and the onslaught from extreme changes in weather. It once spanned far across the continent, swallowing smaller cities. Large parts of the inner dwellings remained; however, it was now desolate and dangerous.
Aldber found a point along the wall that had given way, the rubble piled in such a fashion that it would be feasible for him to negotiate over. He climbed up on his hands and knees, looking back occasionally to the woodlands to ensure no one followed.
He reached over the verge. There stood the buildings of old. The immediate structures on the outskirts were overgrown with thick foliage. This picturesque view subsided as one progressed further into the dark murkier depths, into the belly of the fallen city.
Aldber couldn’t determine where in the megalopolis he had entered. He decided to find a recognisable landmark to get his bearings and navigate the next stage of his journey.
As he made his way through the outskirts, the buildings here were relatively modest compared to the imposing giants that loomed further ahead. Destruction and further degradation had replaced elegance. He passed under a skyscraper that had fallen on its side, balanced against its neighbour, both covered in plants and vines. Below him, grasses had broken through the fractured concrete.
Plant life was abundant in what seemed like an eerie place. The whispering winds were the only sound.
The ruined megalopolis sprawled far and wide, high into the sky and far down below. Vast underground networks burrowed deep into the foundations. The variety of places meant many tribes cohabited, risking living exposed in the tall skyscrapers or down in the sewers and catacombs.
On a few occasions, Aldber met tribes that resided here. He had seen horrific sights—people pushed to the limits of desperation. Conditions were harsh. Disease and famine were common. Unclean water, malnutrition, and sunlight deprivation had caused lasting effects with gruesome consequences. Some had resorted to cannibalism.
Many tribes had Galardros appointed to protect them against the enemy. These specially selected warriors were of the mowoni caste; they devoted themselves to protecting and teaching the tribes, working alongside the leaders to ensure the survival of the people. The mowoni accompanied them wherever they migrated and often married into the families.
Living in the Old City offered shelter, and animals thrived here, enough for the tribes to hunt, operating undercover in the dead of night to avoid being detected by the enemy. However, this vast megalopolis was also the habitat for those savage beasts that roamed in hordes, never deterred by the humans, attacking the scavengers for sport. The bitter hatred and fear amongst the tribes were suffocating.
Aldber felt incredibly fortunate, considering his upbringing at the Sanctuary. Far to the north, outside the city walls and in the hills, was the base of the Galardros of the West Lands—his home.
As he progressed, the magnificent structures around him dominated the skyline. Down on the street level, everything was shrouded in cool shadow.
He started to bear north and spent the next few cycles negotiating through the rubble whilst being vigilant. He would cross over old highways, climb the vast interior of buildings, and wander down the hauntingly empty streets.
One evening, the sun was falling behind the silhouette of buildings to the west. Passing along a boulevard, he noticed a red marking on a wall. To any unknowing onlooker, it may not have appeared out of the ordinary; however, Aldber knew this to be the marking of Galardros.
He was close to an underground base. Hopefully, they could provide help.
Ensuring no one had followed, Aldber entered the ruins of a building next to the marking. Inside was a stairway. He turned on the torch. At the bottom, there was a large circular grate leading into the sewer system. Once inside, he inspected the sewer that passed before him. Adjacent was a passageway. Instinct told him to follow this path. He scaled the sewer to the other side.
Cautiously, he took out his pistol and walked down the passageway. It led out into an open area of catwalks and large pipe networks flowing in various directions. High above, fading sunlight pierced through a grate, casting a large stretched symmetrical pattern upon the scene. His footsteps echoed against the steel as he moved along. The distant dripping of water thudded like a heartbeat.
He walked down a stairway. At the far side was a large door with another red marking painted across it. Approaching, he looked around to ensure no one was lurking in the shadows. Using the butt of his pistol, he started to give a series of knocks and scratches in code to make out the letters ATM, the syllables for the name Altamos—the great founder of the order.
A few moments later, a small viewfinder slid across, revealing a pair of eyes checking him meticulously. The person pulled back the finder and unlocked the large, reinforced door. Here stood a man bearing a rifle adorned in the combat clothing of silo—the soldier caste.
Without hesitation, Aldber raised the salute. The soldier returned the gesture. Aldber walked through the entrance, and the silo checked they were alone before swiftly closing the door behind him.
‘We rarely have unannounced guests,’ the silo explained in an uninviting tone. ‘Follow me.’
He led Aldber down a passageway into a large, open room with fans lining the opposing walls. Soldiers and supplies were scattered around. At the centre was a large table with maps strewn across it. The silo introduced Aldber to his superior. She was gaunt, her short hair greying prematurely, a subtle twitch in her eye.
‘What is the purpose of this visit?’ the commander questioned, returning documents to one of her comrades.
‘My name is Aldber,’ he announced formally. ‘I’m a trainee returning from the East Lands and came across your base.’
‘Aldber?’ she said with intrigue, exchanging looks with the door guard. ‘I’ve heard of that name before.’
‘Oh, really?’
The commander gestured for Aldber to join her at the war table. ‘You have joined us at a bad moment; earlier, the enemy attacked the Fabado tribe in sector twelve. A few of my unit perished.’
A few soldiers stood around the table with mournful grimaces on their faces. Some had bandaged wounds. There was the unmistakable smell of aggravation.
The harsh reality was all too apparent.
Aldber often felt detached. Each of these men and women had sacrificed themselves for the cause. They had left behind their loved ones and sworn allegiance to the order. It was not like they had much of a choice. In times like this, when their efforts seemed in vain, the struggle seemed impossible. The enemy had become too strong, resourceful, and cunning.
‘Have there been any positive developments?’ Aldber asked wistfully.
‘We’ve obstructed several supply routes.’ The commander pointed on a map to their location—the northeast of the grand megalopolis. From here, Aldber could determine the distance to the hills. The silo pointed at several markings leading towards the frontline in the heart of the ruins. There was a distant rumble from an explosion, causing the room to shake. Concrete from the ceiling crumbled onto the map. The unfazed commander brushed this away. She continued: ‘We’ve attacked these routes to weaken their efforts. But won’t attempt frontal assaults unless in extreme circumstances, like this morning.’
It was the same tactic for many sun cycles: protect the tribes and maintain a level of presence that would deter the enemy. A discomforting imbalance where the humans were no longer dominant.
A desperate effort to survive.
Aldber now knew something so important it would change everything.
‘Commander, I need to request extraction from High Command. Return to the Sanctuary immediately,’ Aldber explained.
‘I doubt it. There are limited resources. We can’t even get the sick lifted out of here.’ She pointed to the far corner where wounded soldiers received treatment on several medical beds.
‘I understand.’ Aldber nodded firmly, masking his disappointment. ‘I’m sorry you have been stationed here in such dire conditions.’
Left here, he thought, biting his inner lip.
‘There is no other choice.’ The commander gave a half-hearted smile. ‘You’re welcome to use our facilities. We can give you something to eat.’
‘I appreciate that.’
Inside, he felt deep despair. He would have no option but to hike the rest of the distance through these treacherous city ruins back to the stronghold.
‘I can help you!’ a voice called from behind.
Aldber turned and saw a man only a few sun cycles older than him.
‘Not this again,’ the commander frowned.
‘You can help me?’ Aldber asked.
‘Well, sort of.’ The man walked forward. ‘I overheard your conversation. My name is Kip. I’m one of the Sky People. Captain of the Aeupheur.’
The Sky People had abandoned life upon the surface and taken to the clouds to live on aircraft they had salvaged. They had little contact with the tribes or the Galardros.
‘When we went to help the Fabado tribe,’—the commander interjected, Aldber turned to face her—‘he was with them. We felt obliged to bring him back.’
‘I lost my crew and need to return to them and my ship,’ Kip explained, shaking his head at the commander’s indifference.
Aldber read his facial expressions and mannerisms. Intuition told him Kip was being honest.
‘Captain, I appreciate the gesture but cannot assist with locating your crew,’ Aldber said warmly. ‘If I had more time, I would have helped you.’
‘I understand,’ Kip smiled. ‘It’s nice to see that not all the Galardros are rude!’
He exchanged cautious glances with the commander.
‘I wish you the best of luck finding your crew.’ Aldber turned to face the commander but stopped when he felt a hand on his arm.
‘Wait!’ Kip exclaimed. Aldber faced him once more. ‘You seem like a decent guy. Look, any time you need help in the future,’—he handed the trainee a slip of parchment—‘just contact me.’
Aldber unravelled the parchment. There was a series of numbers ascribed to it.
‘What is this?’
‘A transmission code. You type it into a transmitter device to contact the cockpit of my aircraft. I would contact my crew, but none of these soldiers has a device. How d’you cope with only using messenger birds? So primitive!’
‘Thank you.’ Aldber folded the parchment and stuffed it into the inner pocket of his jacket.
‘Come on, you.’ A silo stood forward to escort Kip away. He placed a hand on his shoulder.
‘Get your hand off me!’ Kip objected, smirking at Aldber before reluctantly obliged to follow. ‘It was nice meeting you, Aldber. Remember what I said.’
‘I sure will do, Captain.’ Aldber nodded, watching the man taken to the entrance.
‘He reeks of trouble,’ the commander said.
‘Where is he being taken?’
‘To find his supposed crew.’
A short while later, Aldber sat with the soldiers eating rations. He gladly ate the sustenance as those surrounding him told stories about their horrifying encounters. He could see fear stricken across their tired faces, hope dwindling with every word they uttered.
Afterwards, the young warrior was offered a bed to rest in but declined the offer, needing to continue his journey, hoping to cover the distance before nightfall. Saying farewell to the squad, he left.
As the large door closed behind him, he sighed in relief.
That depressive atmosphere was contagious.
He didn’t want to feel powerless anymore.
Chapter Three
THE ENEMY
Heading northward, Aldber trekked relentlessly until the last trickles of sunlight slipped over the horizon. He found shelter on the top floor of an industrial block, reachable only by a staircase, surrounded by panoramic views through empty windows.
Placing the deactivated torch to one side, Aldber sat in the middle of the room and closed his eyes. Immersed, he emptied his mind of thoughts, feeling energy pulsating throughout his body, each breath oxygenating every nerve ending.
He had learnt about his dormant powers during training, which he readily wanted to unleash to reach his full potential. It would require consistent effort and patience.
There was a distant sound—a diversion of attention.
Aldber opened his eyes, looking around to find the source of the disruption. Moonlight streamed down, casting an eerie white glow upon the scene. He stood up, reaching for the holstered pistol and knife.
Another sound, closer this time.
He was not alone.
The young warrior cocked his pistol and tightened the grip on the blade. He felt a relentless pounding in his chest. The dusty floorboards creaked below his feet.
A small gust of cold wind drew his attention to a window overlooking grim views of buildings beyond.
And then, much to his horror, from the murky depths emerged a dark hand, its fingers as thick as a human wrist, covered in fur, which grasped onto the window frame. Another hand appeared, the metal bending under the weight of the colossal figure.
Above Aldber, there were movements as the frame of the building strained, bearing the weight of three other beings climbing onto the roof. In front of him, the two hands held tightly onto the window frame for support.
He stood his ground, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Droplets of sweat flowed down his cheek, dripping onto the dusty floor with what felt like an almighty thud.
Suddenly, a large black shadow launched upwards, bursting through and landing on the floor. Rubble crashed onto the ground far down below. The being leant forward, concealing its facial features, a thick mane of fur covering its head and upper back. Heavy breathing expelled from its nostrils. Leather and plated armour were attorning its muscular frame. Two giant fists slammed onto the floor, cracking the wood and creating large indentations. Slowly, the beast raised its head, revealing a snarling face, eyes ablaze with fury, saliva dripping from fangs, rising onto its hind legs, standing taller than any man. Puffing out its chest, clenching fists, a gaze piercing through the darkness.
Aldber was facing one of the enemy—a centauri.
In a split moment, it lunged for the warrior. He jumped out of the way, turning to fire. It crashed against the wall before launching for him, roaring with malice, large hands extending towards him. It ran at the human with a velocity that, to the untrained, would have meant immediate death.
Aldber ran for the stairwell, but the centauri sliced forward, catching his leg and causing him to trip and fall. The beast dived, smashing through the bannisters. The warrior quickly found his feet as the undeterred beast reappeared, snarling, before climbing up and throwing itself toward the human.
The prey thrust his blade upwards, slashing through the lower jaw, penetrating its brains, as the large frame engulfed him. They crumpled to the ground. Pushing the lifeless body aside, Aldber got to his feet, covered in blood, and looked up at the high ceiling—segments of the roof started falling to the ground, exposing the silhouettes of three figures.
The centauri jumped down. The wooden floorboards cracked under immense force.
Aldber was trapped.