“We are the Ok’oma horde,” a black streaked Orc squealed. He carried a massive club and slammed it on the ground repeatedly. “We have slain thousands of humans and gained many levels! This land is ours! Flee before our might or become our next meal.”

“Fool pig,” a blue black Crow snapped. “You have run from humans, they have slain you, instead, and they are the ones who feast upon your flesh.” The Crow cackled a laugh as the Orc roared. “All stupid pigs. Farm animals. Go back and be their food, fool pigs.”

“We are not food!” the black streaked Orc squealed. His eyes bulged and his muscles tensed, blood began flecking the foam from his mouth as his rage was barely held in check. ‘We are Free. We are Awakened! We are not food!”

“Silence!” a voice boomed and a heavyset Sow walked between the two arguing figures. A heavy red cloak covered her back and she wore armor made from scrap steel and leather, at her waist hung the scalps of a dozen human warriors. She carried a long spear of iron in one hand and a Crow made shield in the other. Scars covered the exposed flesh of her body, showing the fights and the battles she had been apart of. “We come here not to insult or fight one another. We come here for the common cause,” she said.

The blue black Crow cawed in annoyance. “Fool pig talks big but does not know when to stop,” the bird stated.

“This meat speaks as if they are a warrior,” the Orc announced. “Challenges me, Bloodfist, and mocks me!”

“Shut up,” the Sow stated. “You both make fools of yourselves.”

A cackle of cawing laughter filled the air as dozens of spectator Crows laughed at the two. The other Orcs only grunted and snarled, not finding amusement in the sow’s judgement.

“Everyday we die by the tens and hundreds. Everyday we are forced from good lands by the humans and our young die to monsters. Everyday we slowly face the Great Oblivion,” the Sow stated. Silence fell among the gathered people. “We have a chance here, to stand together, untied against this foe that would see us all dead. We have seen the slaughterhouses, we have seen our children taken from us to feed their bellies, we have been their prey, but now many of the tribes have gathered. Now we can crush these humans that plague us, the Pig Killer and Crow Catcher.”

The gathered Orcs and Crows snarled and cawed angrily at the names. The human leaders, the ones who pushed for constant war against them, they were terrible on the battlefield. One carrying axe and the other wielding magic.

Constant battles, whole tribes destroyed and consumed, that had been their existence since they had Awakened. The Humans who had once ruled this land kept up pressure as all sides battled against the mana changed horrors that stalked the land. The Orc and the Crows were enemies once, but now desperation and vengeance brought them together. It was because of two figures, two warriors who had found friendship and worked together to fight against the encroaching humans.

Whitestripe and Ironbeak. An Orc and a Crow, who had fought the longest against humanity and survived as many tribes were wiped off the face of the Earth.

The two sat upon a low hill, overlooking the camp of the two different species that were barley held together by a common hatred of mankind.

“This is good work,” Ironbeak stated. He bobbed up and down, his long fingered hands working on something.

Whitestripe only grunted, staring down at the heavily armed and armored Orcs stamping around. The Ok’oma tribe was vast and powerful, they had been hounded by humans and monsters, but they had also won a fair few battles against them. Not like Whitestripe’s tribe or the ones he and Ironbeak had joined when they began traveling together.

Thirty thousand Orcs and ten thousand Crows, it was the army they had gathered to destroy Pig Killer and Crow Catcher. The human army was holed up in a great structure many miles from where they were, but they were hurt and they were desperate. The last battle had seen many of their warriors fall and their great leader Pig Killer nearly slain.

Whitestripe still winced from the memory of that battle. He had lead the charge into the human lines and had nearly killed Pig Killer, but in the end, Crow Catcher and his magic users had descended upon them and routed them once more. A thousand barrows and Crows lay dead after the battle and the Combined Tribe limped away in a pyrrhic victory.

Many had said avoiding battle would have been the wisest choice, but the humans were everywhere. The noose around the tribes was tightening and any place that was free of mana mutations, humans would eventually show up. They did not see any of the Awakened as anything but animals, to hunt, kill, and eat. The Tribes did the same, feasting on the flesh of the fallen humans and carrying the trophies of their kills around with them.

“We storm the hospital,” Ironbeak continued. He, unlike Whtiestripe, had learned to read the human language and spoke the English, all obtained from captured humans. “They only had a three night to fortify, we push hard and we take them. Crows hit from above, Pigs from ground.”

“We both do bad fighting in confines,” Whitestripe replied. “Hard to move around and fight inside small human building. Not big enough for more than a dozen barrows and too small for Crows to fly. Better we fight in open ground.”

“They kill us all in open ground. Catapults, napalm, and their machine guns.”

“We starve them out, then,” Whitestripe said. “Stop their hunting parties, stop them from finding food. Kill any who leave the fortress.”

“Hospital, not fortress,” Ironbeak said. “Take too long to starve.”

Whitestripe nodded. He had spent many weeks with little in his stomach and had seen the humans suffer the same. Starvation took too long.

“Ok’oma tribe too strong. Too many want to be leader,” Whitestripe said. “They see our tribe as weak. They see us as running away from the humans. But they know they cannot keep moving if Pig Killer is here. He must be killed and then we can fight amongst ourselves to see who leads.”

Ironbeak let out a cawing laugh. “The Murder stands behind our Pig allies,” he said. “We are all tribe here. If Ok’oma try to fight us, we kill them too, like Pig Killer and Crow Catcher.”

Whitestripe nodded, glancing toward his Crow companion. From the day they met after his own tribe had been destroyed, they had traveled and fought against the humans. It had felt like a lifetime they fought side by side, but it had barely been three weeks. A life time for a Pig or Crow.

“We still must fight them,” Whitestripe stated. “Many will die.”

“To kill Crow Catcher and Pig Killer, it worth it,” Ironbeak muttered. “Too many humans, even if weak, there are too many.”

It was the truth of the world. The Awakened didn’t have what the humans did. Once they were animals and the next they had been given thought and consciousness by the System and mana. They had to build up their entire culture, society, and figure out how to fight and build while the humans already had much of that figured out.

Orcs had been food for the humans and they had been raised in great farms. When they had been Awakened, they had out numbered the humans and managed to kill their captors. But the rest of the world, the world that many had not ever seen before, was filled with humans. For every Pig there were ten humans, even as the world became filled with monsters that killed everyone and everything, there were still too many humans.

Pig Killer and Crow Catcher were the foremost of the threats facing the tribes and murders. They pushed and pushed and hunted them. They sought them out to fight and to kill, scouring the land of any of their traces. Killing every Pig they found and eating their flesh to feed their growing numbers. Every day more humans arrived to fight under the Pig Killer banner, the Sullivan militia.

They would not be able to avoid battle. Even with the last battle technically being won by them, Pig Killer was only one of many other human tribes out there. And there had been nothing good that came from meeting human tribes.

“Something is wrong,” Ironbeak said, dropping the item in his hands. He looked about, his head snapping to and fro. Whitestripe peered around, beginning to feel what the Crow was sensing. A chance in the air, a different taste to it, something heavy forming around them.

“Mana render,” Whitestripe got to his feet, snatching up his battle-ax and squealing loud and high. The Combined Tribe and the Ok’oma Tribe stopped their bickering and stared at him. Then they began moving as they felt the air suddenly grow heavy as mana thickened in the area.

“Near us,”Ironbeak hissed, pulling a crossbow from his back.

“We stand, let the children flee,” Whitestripe roared and warriors began rushing to his position. They would hold the line against anything that came from the render. They all knew the risks, but the young had to flee.

The violent tear in space didn’t appear, instead a metal wall formed upon the trampled grass. A great door was situated in the center of the metal wall and it opened.

A creature of black metal stepped out onto the meadow. In his hands a massive device was pulsing with mana. He set the device down and looked at the gathered army of Pigs and Crows.

“Greetings,” Tender announced. “We don’t have much time and this is the fastest way we can do this.” The black metal creature set the hand upon the device and it exploded with light.

Whitestripe roared and tried to charge. His body suddenly felt light and free, as if he were flying. His stomach heaved and then he was standing upon a great open field of grass.

“What is this?” he asked, looking down at his hands. They seemed odd, then he realized they lacked the burns and scars he had received in his weeks of fighting. The damage that the healer gilts could not remove still plagued his body, but now he appeared as if he were still a youngling.

“Strange,” Ironbeak said, moving his wing. After breaking his wing, he could not move it as well as even the gilt healers weren’t able to completely heal injuries.

“Is this death?” Whitestripe asked. “Humans speak of life after death. Is this that? Did we die?”

“Only Oblivion awaits us,” Ironbeak said. “This is not death. This is not reality.” He dug his claws into the ground and pulled free grass and black earth. “This is not real. This is fake. A trick. Illusion.”

As he said that, the other Pigs and Crows began appearing around them. They staggered about and looked shocked by the strange environment they were now in.

A black square appeared not far from Ironbeak and Whitestripe. It was as if reality was suddenly chopped away and replaced with a black void. From the void marched three figures.

The first to walk onto the meadow was a menacing black creature of metal and red eyes. It stepped forward and peered at the Crows and Orcs that were appearing. Behind the metal creature came a small reptile, brightly colored and moving in quick motions. Behind the reptile came another figure, a massive avian with white feathers and a vicious looking beak.

“Sorry about the sudden change of environment,” the reptile spoke. “I am Yosi Sullivan, these are my companions, Tender and Vesakri.” The metal figure inclined its head to the gathered and then the big bird did the same.

“What is the meaning of this!” Whitestripe snarled. He tried to raise his weapon, but realized he was lacking it. He cast about, searching for his gear, but he stood before the three figures in clothing that covered him from neck to feet. The large Orc stopped as he looked down at his body, it was as if the clothing were made just for him. It fit snugly and didn’t hamper his movements. He had seen the humans wear clothing, but the Orcs only used recycled rags and roughly stitched together clothing. The Crows didn’t wear clothing.

“I have come to meet with you, Whitestripe and Ironbeak. Along with the Sow.”

“What is the meaning of this?” the Sow demanded as she appeared beside Ironbeak. She had been with her tribe, far away a moment before. She looked down at her hands and saw that it lacked weapons or killing instruments.

***

“You trap us in this fake world and want to deal fair?” the Sow demanded.

“You are not trapped in here,” Yosi said.

“Then we leave,” Ironbeak snapped. “We will not be trapped, by human or by reptile.”

“What is your deal?” Whitestripe asked.

Ironbeak let out a squawk of annoyance, shooting a dark eye at his companion. “Fool,” he hissed.

“You have power,” Whitestripe said. “You could kill us all, if you wanted. This fake world that you have made, it is only one of the tools you have.”

“I’m not here to kill you nor am I here to do anything but offer you an opportunity,” Yosi said.

“Speak,” the Sow snapped.

“We represent Maya Sullivan, a trader and merchant,” Yosi said.

“What’s that?” Whitestripe asked.

“One who sells items to others,” Yosi replied.

“Sell?” the Crow looked to the Sow and Whitestripe. “No sell, only take and give to who can use best. Armor for pigs, daggers for crows.”

“You want to sell to us?” the Sow asked.

“No,”

“Then why come here with your power?” Ironbeak asked. “Show off? Work for other humans? Pig Killer?”

“Maya Sullivan offers you a deal,” Yosi said. “She will support your tribes and people, she will ensure that you are not hunted by humans, she will give you what you need to build homes and places to live in peace, in return she asks you to help her. To fight for her. For a great enemy is marching against her and she needs your help.”

Ironbeak let out a cackle. “She offers us peace and asks us to make war? For her? One we’ve never heard of before? Where are her stories, where are her songs, this one with so much power? We stand ready to kill Pig Killer and Crow Catcher and she comes to us? Is this a human trick? Pig Killer and Crow Catcher have spilled much of our blood. We shall see them dead this day.”

“This is an offer to help you peoples,” Yosi said.

“We do not need help,” the Sow said. “We will destroy our enemies and we will stand victorious over all who try to defeat us.”

“How many have died in the last weeks?” Veskari asked. “How many thousands of your people. How many different tribes of Orcs and Crows?”

“We will not give up,” Whitestripe said. “We will fight until we are either victorious or dead. We will not live in chains or be food anymore.”

“I will tell you about the Multiverse,” Yosi said. “You call yourselves Awakened, you were brought out of your animal states and formed sentience, and sapience. But across the Multiverse, you are not considered equals. You are Class Two; lesser than. You are not the ‘owner’ of this planet, you are not the one that the System deems as the true inheritor of this world. You were animals and when the humans gain true control of this planet again, then you will become slaves. That’s what happened to my people and that’s what will happen to yours.”

“Lies,” Ironbeak snapped.

“Not lies,” Veskari said. “The System cares for no one, it only wants you to use mana. The native intelligences of a planet have the right to decide if those that were uplifted when Integration occurred should be given full rights or not. When they manage to consolidate, when they band together once more, then they will vote to decide if you and all other species that have gained sentience and sapience are considered true people or not.”

“Then we kill all the humans,” Whitestripe said. “No humans, no vote, no Class Two.”

“With what?” Yosi asked. “Even as billions of humans have died, they still outnumber you. In this small region, you are powerful. Everywhere else you are not. These humans you are facing are only one group of many more, even now the forces of this nation are preparing to go to war against you all.”

The three leaders stood in silence as the mulled over the words she stated.

“You carry tools and weapons you have made yourselves, you only know the knowledge you have been given by the System and its rewards,” Veskari said. “Humans have their industry, they have their numbers, they have built all you see here, all you use now is human built. But knowledge is not theirs alone.”

Yosi summoned a knowledge cube. “This cube, it will give you knowledge,” she said.

Ironbeak scoffed. “Lies.”

“You make crossbows, you make armor,” Yosi said. “Not very good crossbows or armor.” Ironbeak glared at her. “Cubes like these, they can teach you how to make them better. They can teach you how to make others things. They can teach you how to make this.”

Yosi summoned a railgun and dropped it on the ground. The Crow looked at it and then picked it up.

“Human weapon.”

“Not human, this is a species called Falligarin’s design.” Yosi pointed to Veskari. “There are people who look like you across the multiverse, people who have been using technology for far longer than humanity, they have built tools, weapons, and armor for other avian like species.”

“How?” Ironbeak asked, he turned the weapon over in his hands, peering at the construction and build of the weapon.

“Humanity has been knocked down a peg,” Yosi said. “They have an advantage over your peoples in numbers and technology, but Integration has changed a lot. You have the chance to stand up and be counted as equals in this world.”

“By fighting for Maya Sullivan,” the Sow said.

“These technology,” Whitestripe said, “Weapons and tools and knowledge. What about sickness?”

“We have access to advanced medical AIs,” Yosi said. “If you’re injured, sick, or have lost a limb, we can fix it.”

The Sow turned to Whitestripe and let out a low growl. “What about madness?” Whitestripe asked.

“Madness?” Yosi asked.

“Our mana users,” the Sow said. “What humans call gilts. Young females who can channel mana, but it drives them insane. They burn like twigs, hot, fast, and then they must be put down.”

“So many have died,” Whitestripe said. “So small and so young. They cannot live more than a few weeks once they gain their powers.”

Yosi was silent, a stunned look on her face.

“They were the first of the Awakened,” the Sow stated. “The gilts were the first the Know what we were. That knowledge drove them insane, the knowledge that we were animals, that we were food for humans. But they were the ones to set us free, their mana and their powers destroyed the slaughterhouses and released us. But being the First has scarred all those that wield mana.”

“There are some historical cases,” Veskari said, slowly. “Where the sudden uplifting of a species have resulted in corruption in mana channels and DNA. I believe that they could be healed, but I would have to discuss it with Nanaseto.”

“You can heal them?” Whitestripe asked.

“Sentimental pig,” Ironbeak said.

“Death in battle, death for a cause is good,” Whtiestripe said. “I would die for all in my tribe, for the Orcs and for the Crows, I would gladly die. But the young mages, they die horribly, they suffer and grow insane. If you can help them, if you can heal them, then this Maya Sullivan will have my axe.”

“I vow the same,” the Sow stated.

“Foolish pigs,” Ironbeak snapped. “Many will die if we fight for this merchant, to save only a few? We are close to killing Crow Catcher and Pig Killer, so close!”

“I do not fight for vengeance,” Whitestripe said. “I fight so my tribe will be safe. If we fight for this merchant, then we will gain much, if Pig Killer and Crow Catcher come to fight us again, then we will be stronger.”

“We are strong already,” Ironbeak said.

“You have seen the power of Crow Catcher, bird,” Whitestripe said. “You have seen what he has done with the mana he controls. Crow mages can’t stand against him and our gilts burn up and die when they fight. If they can be healed, they can live and grow stronger. That would make our tribe even more stronger.”

“They are weak now,” Ironbeak stated. “We can kill them finally.”

Whitestripe towered over Ironbeak. “The gilts are children,” he stated. “They deserve to have a life, if they can. They deserve not to suffer just so that we can consume the heart of Pig Killer and Crow Catcher.”

Ironbeak hung his head. “They have killed so many of my kind,” he said bitterly. “I wish them dead with all my heart.” He looked up at Whitestripe. “But we shall stand by our allies, as we have sworn. Our alliance is more… important than… vengeance.”

“If you can heal the gilts; then we shall stand by your Maya Sullivan,” the Sow announced.