Now, there has been a major time skip, and that's because I needed to do it in order to move the plot forward. In a way, I also had the necessity to use otherwise I would be stuck in a loop of rinse and repeat with hunts. I just don't want the story to become stale or anything else like that.

Today marked the day.

Exactly one hundred years ago, Mark had been a human.

Now, he did not know how he could identify himself. Was he still a human, or was he a yautja? He did not know anymore.

He had lived far longer than what was human, and he would still continue to do so, barring an unfortunate demise.

And in those one hundred years, Mark Johnson had hunted, killed and hunted even more. He was now a decorated elite. A hunter renown for his proficiency in hive cleansings.

A lot had happened in that arch of time. He had tasted victory many times, brought honor to the Fire Skull clan and mastered many weapons.

He had studied nearly all of the subjects present in yautja science, whether it be biology or astronomy.

And yet he had barely reached the age of forty in his conditions. If he had been human, he would have started to grow old, his movements would slow, as would his energy.

Except it didn't: he seemed to be getting faster and stronger. He had also grown taller, now standing at 9 feet tall. That wasn't humanly possible.

He looked at the trophy wall, littered with many kiande amedha skulls, praetorians and even queens were abundant, and there were a few skulls belonging to abominations (the predalien) he recorded fifty three hive cleansings, and another twenty that he had done alone. That didn't count the regular hunts.

His figure was well know, respected amongst the peers of his clan and those of their alliance. He was given the name of halkrath, which translated to shadow.

His hand traced the white skull of the first serpent queen he had killed. He could still hear her screeching.

The hunter looked at his hand: it was like that of a human's... but the skin was toughened, the muscles stronger and the bones harder.

'What am I?'

He turned around and walked to the control chair. His ship was massive, one befitting of his status. Along the walls were more simple decorations, stone walls had carved battles in them, his victorious battles.

Arriving at the chair, he sat down and began to check on the ship's systems. He denied Kyiv's requests to open a call. He didn't have the will to see him.

In those years, he had become detached, alone. He barely spoke with any of his friends anymore. He was a lone wolf, lone in the infinite space of the cosmos.

Mark barely answered calls, unless they were something that had to do with the clan's business, or if they were orders from the high matriarch, eldress or priestess, then he didn't bother to read them.

The last time he had gone to Yaut, it was to receive his mark that would elevate his status to that of an elite. That was over twenty years ago.

The bands adorning his necklace were all gold, the highest prestige a band could have.

He did not care for what the others thought about him, he knew that it wasn't common to remain so isolated.

He still hadn't sired any pups. He still had yet to find the right mate, the one that would remain with him. And he had given up hope a long time ago.

He would be most active with his hunting during the mating seasons, for it would mean less rival hunters and more free reign.

Tapping on the holographic keyboard, he wrote to Kyiv, informing him that he had to prepare for a new hunt. Setting course for a nearby clan ship, he planned to dock, refuel and leave for the hunt.

After traversing many corridors, he stopped by his large sleeping quarters. He stood in front of a mirror, observing his scarred and muscular body.

The black circle on his shoulder blade was still present, and he lightly touched it. He swallowed a few pills, and the noises from the hive grew more distant.

Mark sat at the end of the tavern, paying no mind to the glances that were constantly directed towards him. He sipped at the cup containing c'ntlip, the burn no longer painful or discomforting.

He was thinking back to a time when his presence was barely tolerated by these people, now he was either greeted with neutrality or respect. Challengers rarely arose, and when they did it was because there was some stupid, hot head fucker of an unblood or young hunter that believed he could be beaten simply for once being a human.

A chair was placed in front on his table, and a figure sat down; it was another human.

Mark hid his surprise. The other presented his open hand and he grasped it, the handshake confirming that he was indeed from Earth.

The blonde haired man stared at him, and by Mark's estimation he must have been in his twenties.

"Mark Johnson I presume." "Yes, and you are?" "Hunter Ivanov." "Russia?" "I don't know. I was born in south america. A conflict between bad bloods and yautja erupted when I was but a child. My parents died and I was dropped on the streets of Washington. Next few years pass, and I'm found by the same hunter that had saved me." he stopped, taking a long gulp of his own drink. "The year was 2034, I was seven at the time. I completed my Chiva at fifteen." he told him.

"I was in the Navy Seals, twenty three years old. It was in India, 2016. I had just finished a mission when I happened to have a run in with some hunters. I believe you know the rest of my story." he nodded.

A question then came to his mind, "Where you taken in by the Long Glaive clan?" "Yes. And you knew this how?" "I was with them briefly, quickly came to learn that they were one of the most accepting clans. Plus their symbol is engraved on the side of your pauldron." "I guess that was obvious then."

"Say, I'm about to go down the game world on this solar system. Care to join?" "I do."

And so they each departed to their own ships, Mark gave Hunter the coordinates for the hive. The truth was that it hurt. It hurt to see another one like him because he feared that his own fate would befall him. He hoped that he could find happiness, he really did.

Hunter was geared up with fierce looking armor that was painted black. It was obviously custom because it didn't fit with design that were used by Yautja. So was the single large wrist blade and the single shoulder plasma caster.

Plus he seemed to be carrying an axe? A plasma axe most likely looking at the design of it. An interesting choice.

"Is that a katana?" "Yes. I find it useful for powerful strikes, and it cuts deeply, so it had the added bonus of causing major bleeding should he managed to hit major veins. In all honesty he had shifted his main weapon to the sword, and after some years of experimenting and testing he had finally settled on the usage of the katana, or at least that was what he had tried to replicate when he gave the measurements to the forge masters.

The engineer tech allowed him to hack his way into Earths computer systems, learn about the major events that were going on. He was pleased to see that humanity had grown more united, and were in the early stages of colonizing Mars along its two moons Phobos and Deimos. It had also allowed him download everything he could on japanese sword fighting, and Mark could readily confirm that he had mastered all that there was to master and more.

The other hunter pulled out a kukri knife.

"I used this to kill a queen. It was in a grouped hunt. Many died that day in trying to take the great serpent down; I managed to land the killing blow and secured the skull." he would've continued to talk but was interrupted by loud hissing coming from the entrance of the pit.

Mark briefly saw flashes of the hive, cold scaly hands touching his back, dragging sharp talons down his skin. He shook his head, placing his helmet on.

"Here they come!" Hunter activated his axe, the bright glow of the plasma lining the edge of the blade light up a part of the dark hole, to reveal dozens of kiande amedha.

Quickly targeting them, Mark activated his twin plasma casters and rained fire upon them, vaporizing a good portion of the way. With his armor, he was essentially acid proof, perfectly equipped to deal with the serpents.

He turned to the other who had also shot a few blasts with his own cannon, "I'll clear out a way to the hive, follow me!" he told him, and then jumped into the sea of shrieking black.

He slashed downwards, decapitating another serpent, and spun to cut one across the jaw, confirming another kill.

The greenish blood sizzled on his awu'asa but didn't nothing in the end and wore off to nothingness, unable to erode the durable and tempered metal.

A few steps away from him, Hunter stomped down on the head of the last kiande amedha in the room.

He turned to him, panting, touching at the bleeding gash on the juncture between his arm and forearm.

A serpent had managed to reach the chink of his armor and claw him. But other than that, he was just a little tired and nothing else.

He came up to the shorter hunter, "Are you ready to proceed?" "Yes. You're the expert in hunting the serpents, so I suppose that you know where to head." he smirked behind his mask, "Well you're the slayer then, you rip through them with that axe of yours like cutting through butter."

"Not as good as you though." "You'll get there if you try hard enough." he looked over to another opening, "I'd bet all of my credits that the queen's chamber is over there." he pointed his blade towards it.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" he joked and they shared a mutual chuckle, making their ways over to the rest of the hive, and soon enough, they began to hear the queen's roars.

A trap was laid for them, and they had run straight into it. But out of sheer will and perseverance, Mark had overpowered the kiande amedha' as overwhelming numbers with skill and rage.

It was a hard fought battle, but it was one that proved to be enjoyable for it gave him a good challenge.

In the end he slew the queen, and now he was carrying the still bleeding skull back to the ship.

He didn't worry about the hive dying out because of the lack of a matriarch, for he knew that a praetorian would replace her to become the new mother.

Hunter had collected the skulls of two praetorians, large and deadly. They would surely provide a lot of honor.

"Well, I'd say that this is were we go on our own ways. It was a pleasure hunting with you Ivanov." he shook his hand, "same here, Johnson." and with tha they returned to their own crafts.

The character of Hunter was suggested by so my thanks are to him.

Now this chapter may seem rushed, it may be worse because I wrote it today along with chapter 31 (Christ, two chapters in a single day, fuck me!)

Anyways, until the next installment.