Simba, still hidden behind the rocks, felt the adrenaline from the earlier battle slowly fade, but the excitement lingered like a buzz in his chest. His eyes stayed locked on his father, Mufasa, and his uncle, Scar, who stood tall, their bodies tense but victorious. Simba's heart swelled with pride for both of them. They were so strong. So fearless. He wanted to be just like them.
But then, a sudden thought struck him—he had been hiding the entire time. He hadn't been there to help. He hadn't been the brave cub he always imagined himself to be.
Determined to show he wasn't afraid, Simba crept out from behind the rocks, his small frame moving carefully toward his father and uncle. As he stepped into the clearing, Mufasa turned to look at him, and the expression on his face shifted immediately from relief to concern. His deep voice boomed with a tinge of anger that immediately put Simba on edge.
"Simba!" Mufasa growled, his eyes narrowing. "What were you thinking? You could've been hurt! It's dangerous out here!"
Simba winced at the tone but held his ground, standing tall despite the sudden wave of guilt. "I—I'm fine, Dad," Simba said quickly, trying to sound braver than he felt. "Everything turned out okay. You and Uncle Scar took care of it."
Mufasa's brow furrowed, his anger softening but still evident. "It doesn't matter. You're not ready for something like this. You need to stay safe."
Simba could feel his heart racing, and his excitement shifted into confusion. "But... but it was so cool! You two were amazing! You fought like... like kings!" His words tumbled out, and he couldn't help but grin as he thought about the way Mufasa and Scar had moved, working as a unit—powerful and precise.
Scar's lips curled upward in a small, knowing smile. "He's right, Mufasa. We were quite the pair, weren't we?"
Mufasa gave Scar a look, but before he could say anything, a sudden, terrifying roar echoed across the plains, making Simba freeze in place. It was loud. Powerful. And full of menace.
Simba's fur stood on end as he looked toward the horizon. A figure appeared through the mist of dust, and then another. Lionesses, their bodies poised and ready for action, darted through the underbrush, their movements swift and fluid. One of them was clearly leading the group, her pace quickening as she approached the three lions with urgency in her steps.
Simba's heart began to pound. He looked up at Mufasa, fear in his eyes. "Dad...?"
Mufasa's expression hardened, his muscles coiling like springs, ready to react. "Stay close, Simba. We're not finished here."
Scar, his posture shifting into one of quiet confidence, watched the approaching lionesses carefully. His eyes narrowed slightly, but there was no panic. He'd been expecting this. He knew Zira would come. The only surprise was how fast she and her pride had arrived.
Zira, leading the group, broke through the brush with a fierce grace. Before anyone could react, she leapt onto Scar, her claws sinking into his back as she tackled him to the ground. The force of the attack caused Scar to stumble, but he quickly regained his balance and pushed her off, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.
"Zira," Scar said, half-annoyed but mostly amused. "You're early. I didn't expect you and the Outlanders to move so quickly."
Zira landed lightly on her paws, not missing a beat. Her eyes gleamed with determination as she looked at Mufasa and Simba. "I came as soon as I could. I didn't want to waste time, Scar," she said with a sharp, calculating tone. "The situation's changing, and we need to be ready. The Outlanders are prepared. We're ready to follow you, Scar."
Mufasa, his muscles tense, took a step forward, his body preparing for anything. "You know this lioness, Scar?" His voice was steady but cautious.
Scar nodded, his eyes still locked on Zira, though his posture relaxed slightly. "Yes, Mufasa. I know her. This is Zira. She's loyal to me—perhaps more than most."
Zira gave a half-smile at Scar's words, clearly not one to show any friendliness toward Mufasa or Simba. "Loyal is one way to put it," she said, her eyes narrowing at Mufasa. "You could say I'm... devoted to Scar. I'm not interested in wasting time with anyone else, especially not with you, Mufasa."
Simba watched this exchange with wide eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. He was trying to understand what was happening, but the tension in the air was thick, and Zira's hostility was obvious. "Wait... you're allies with her, Uncle Scar?" Simba asked, his voice shaky as he looked up at him.
Scar glanced down at Simba, giving a slight nod. "Yes, Simba, but not everyone will see it that way. Zira's... methods are different, and she doesn't get along well with others. But if I'm going to succeed in what's to come, I'll need her on my side."
Zira's gaze remained fixed on Mufasa, unblinking. "I don't care about your rules, Mufasa. I've seen what you're trying to do, but it won't work. Scar is the future, and if you stand in the way, you'll fall."
Mufasa growled low in his chest, preparing himself for any further confrontation. "I won't stand by and let you tear this Pride apart. If you plan to bring more chaos, I'll stop you. Scar or not."
Scar, sensing the rising tension, stepped in between them, his voice calm but firm. "Enough, Mufasa. I'm not looking for a fight. Zira is here for a reason, but that doesn't mean we're going to destroy everything we've built."
Mufasa's sharp eyes never left Zira, but he nodded slowly, his muscles still coiled, ready to fight if necessary. "I won't let you tear this Pride apart. Not now. Not ever."
Before another word could be exchanged, a deep, resonant roar echoed from the distance. Mufasa's head snapped up, his posture instantly shifting to one of alertness. "We're not alone," he muttered, his eyes scanning the horizon for any new threats.
Simba's heart skipped a beat, but Scar stood tall, his body still relaxed despite the ominous sounds. "It's not just us now. There's more to this than meets the eye. But I can handle it."
Just as Mufasa looked ready to spring into action, one of Zira's lionesses appeared behind her—another strong, lean lioness, her eyes fierce as she approached Scar. Zira's voice was low but intense as she spoke to her.
"Ready them," Zira said with a chilling calmness. "We're moving forward. There's no turning back now."
Mufasa didn't flinch, his body still coiled, ready to fight at a moment's notice. "I don't care who you brought with you, Zira. If you're planning an attack, you won't succeed."
Zira's lips curled in a cruel smile, her gaze never wavering from Mufasa. "We'll see about that, Mufasa."