Time had passed.
The once small pride Zira had started now stretched across the savanna like a rising empire. From just a handful of lionesses, it had grown to a mighty force—three hundred lionesses, fierce and loyal. Five hundred female cubs, all daughters of Scar, now roamed and trained across a vast territory fifteen times the size of the Pride Lands.
Their home was no longer just a haven. It was a kingdom.
The Outlands had evolved into a stronghold of strength, discipline, and cunning. Every day the lionesses grew sharper, faster, more relentless. They hunted water buffalo with ease. They trained against the wild. And through it all, Zira ruled with devotion, her fierce loyalty to Scar turning her into a lioness queen revered by all who followed her.
Scar had built a power that rivaled even the Pride Lands.
Meanwhile, in the Pride Lands…
Mufasa stood at the edge of Pride Rock, his golden mane billowing in the breeze. His eyes watched the horizon, where the sun touched the savanna's edge.
It had been a year.
A year since Scar had taken Simba away. A year since the Outlanders moved beyond their borders. And despite his early doubts… there had been no wars. No fights. No blood.
Mufasa exhaled slowly. "They should be coming back soon…"
Sarabi padded up beside him. "You're nervous."
"I'm… curious," Mufasa admitted. "Simba will be grown by now. And Scar… he's unpredictable, but… he's still my brother."
Zazu landed beside them with a rustle. "Sire, do you really believe this—this peaceful balance can hold? Scar commands an army now."
Mufasa didn't respond. He simply stared into the fading sun.
Far away, Scar's POV…
Scar walked calmly through the brush, the earth dry beneath his heavy paws. The jungle behind him was fading now. Simba walked beside him — older, stronger, his mane beginning to come in. Behind them waddled Pumbaa, humming cheerfully, and Timon, perched on the warthog's back, nervously scanning the skies.
Simba yawned. "How much further?"
"Not long now," Scar said with a faint grin.
Simba's eyes lit up. "Do you think Dad will be proud?"
Scar looked at him. "He'll be… surprised."
In truth, Scar was deep in thought. He had watched the world of the Lion King through a screen once. A story. Fiction. But now… he was Scar. And Scar had conquered. Scar had ruled.
And soon… the entire savanna would know it.
The wind picked up as they crossed the final hill. In the distance, Pride Rock stood tall, waiting.
Scar's smile grew wider.
"Come," he said. "It's time we went home."