DISCOVERY PART 2B

Day 53; 1003 (Morning)

Focus: 513

Peeking-out from the side of the tree, 513 scanned the land around the rest area to see if any beasts had wandered in. He feared that curious predators might be drawn-in by the noise, increasing the level of danger he might have to face.

*CRUNCH* *MUNCH* *CRUNCH*

The sound of gnashing bones continued to ring in the background.

Based-on sound alone, 513 had a firm grasp of what the noise represented -- a creature feasting on the bodies of its prey

His assumption on the matter became clear when the rancid aroma of torn innards and blood drifted into his nose. He couldn’t help but make an unsightly face as tears flowed-out from his eyes in utter disgust.

The smell was unlike the pungent stench of decaying bodies or the malodor present on the burnt carcasses he found inside the dead zone. Instead, the odor had a necrotic tinge to it -- a unique smell that he couldn’t quite put into words.

After recovering from his revulsion to the vile scent, he used his fur cloak to wipe away the remaining snot and spit still on his face, then set his gaze towards the direction of the noise. [Hmm. I can’t see it from here.] He thought. [Climbing up this tree might help.]

Securing his miniature kite shield and short spear onto his supply pack, 513 started climbing the trunk of the tree he had used for cover to get a better view. The tree had grown at a slant, so it took virtually no time for him to ascend a height of ten meters.

When he was roughly fifteen meters above ground, he fastened himself to the tree with several anchor spikes and a leather rope. By timing his strikes with the anchor spikes with the noise coming from the mist, he was able to drive them into the tree without worry of being discovered. He then set his sights on the area beyond the ledge. There he saw a thick, low hovering mist slowly making its way towards his location.

*CRUNCH* *MUNCH* *MUNCH*

Like a trigger, the mist violently pulsated at the whim of every chew -- with every gnashing of bones -- momentarily turning the mist's dull-white color into a dark shade of red. Looking at its size, the mist had covered enough land to fit the entire footprint of 513's base several times over. As for its height, the mist was constricted. Overall, the area it occupied looked like a three meter tall, ever-expanding disc.

[Clearly this mist is unnatural.] He thought.

Looking beyond the mist's unrefined edge, 513 sighted a large, swirling white sphere anchored at its center. The unmoving sphere was about twice the height of the slow moving mist, and looked to be its source.

513 fixed his gaze on the sphere to better understand it, but was soon interrupted. Before he could properly observe the phenomenon, an unexpected reaction occurred.

The sphere expanded and contracted like a beating heart, increasing its area coverage by accelerating its production of mist. As a result, the mist's travel speed increased significantly, from a slow crawl to a torrent. It now flowed like water travelling over dry land.

513's eyes narrowed as he witnessed the mist spill over the two-meter high ledge like a waterfall. [That makes no sense...] He told himself, startled by the scene. [...if I happen to fall in that, would I suffocate? By the way it flows and falls-off the ledge, it is at least as dense as water...]

He had good reason to be concerned. With the speed of its expansion, the mist had devoured all means for escape.

It was at this moment 513 realized he was trapped.

◊◊◊◊◊◊

Perched on the lowest branch of a tree, was a large, two-meter tall stork with bat-like wings.

Over the course of several days, the stork had secretly stalked a short, bipedal creature called a Harkey.

Harkey was a term the stork had learned from its older siblings during its adolescent years -- during a time when the stork hunted together with its large family.

In the past, the stork and its siblings would terrorize small, undeveloped villages, feasting on the livestock and the weak villagers. From these raids, the stork and its siblings developed a keen taste for harkey meat.

However, for an aging bird like the stork, those were only distant memories.

Unlike its older siblings, it had foolishly ventured into the vast forest alone, only to become lost inside of it.

No matter how hard it tried or how long it flew, it never found a way out. Eventually, the stork settled inside the forest and learned to cope with never having to taste harkey meat again. At least, that was the sentiment.

Now, a juicy, fully grown harkey was in-front of its eyes, just waiting to be slaughtered.

But rather than act, the stork remained patient. It had already waited several days to find the perfect moment to strike. So there was nothing wrong with waiting a little longer.

For the stork, the process of the hunt was the most enjoyable when it faced extreme hunger. Because of this reason, the stork deliberately starved itself for three days. It wanted to be at the peak of hunger when the hunt reached its climax.

In short, the stork was a sadist.

In preparation for the final stage of its hunt, the stork had thoroughly observed all of the harkey's habits, travel routes, and resting spots.

Unfortunately, the harkey didn't stay in the forest for very long -- only exploring during the day. This limited the number of opportunities the stork had to dispatch its target.

But the stork didn't mind.

The frustration of adjusting plans in accordance to a limited window of opportunity, only added to its enjoyment.

However, one question loomed over the stork's mind: why was it here?

As far as it knew, no civilized settlements -- not even small, remote hamlets or homesteads -- were close-by. Otherwise, the stork would have already freed itself from the confines of the vast forest.

Understandably, the stork saw the forest as a prison. Not being able to find a way-out over the span of several decades was proof of that.

Putting its disdain for the forest aside, it continued observing the harkey.

Currently, the harkey was precariously hanging-off one side of a slanted tree.

It looked completely helpless.

How the harkey was able to accomplish this feat without claws or a tail, slightly intrigued the stork. But it quickly dismissed the thought as it meant the harkey had some level of intelligence.

In the stork’s eyes, the harkey was rather stupid. [How are the skins of dead animals supposed to provide protection? Moreover, what does it expect to accomplish with such primitive weapons? From experience, even the uniformly sharp blades made from special ores had no effect on me...the charred bones that moron is wielding as a weapon can't even compare.] The stork thought-up a storm of insults rebuking the harkey. Each insult fueling the next, causing the stork to scornfully leer at its prey with quieted rage.

*SPLAT* *SPLAT* *SPLAT*

Suddenly, the bone-crushing noise coming from the mist changed dramatically. As a result, the boiling contempt the stork had for the harkey’s incompetence quickly subsided as a new feeling emerged.

Fear.

While the stork was still perplexed, a loud scream came from the mist.

???: "GRUAOUAOUAO!!

The primal roar generated an invisible, concussive blast that swept through the area.

The large trees of the forest swayed back-and-forth as the frozen ground cracked and rippled like ocean waves.

The small creatures scurrying in the treetops all met their ends as the roar’s concussive blast passed through their bodies in an instant, liquifying their insides into a soupy mess.

The stork watched in pain as countless corpses rained-down from the trees. Just like the small creatures, it too had been affected by the concussive blast.

Spreading-out its wings, the stork made its decision to flee. Though it had taken damage, its wings were unharmed.

Thinking it was safe, the stork leapt from the branch it was perched-on and began to ascend using its bat-like wings. At the same moment, a long tentacle sprung-out from the dull-white mist and wrapped itself around the stork’s feet.

Panicked, the stork did everything it could to free itself from the tentacle. However, it was futile.

*SNAP*

With a quick tug from the tentacle, the stork’s body turned limp.

Feeling defeated, the stork took one-last look at the harkey with eyes full of hate, before losing consciousness and entering the world of eternal slumber.

---Chapter End