Cain stepped back fast, eyes sweeping the rocks, every nerve on edge.
'What's happening?'
Shutting his mouth up, he started to survey the shardling formation.
He shot, dropped bombs — still nothing.
The thing didn't move.
'One more should be fine, right?'
Not one to lose out, his hands started digging.
Cold bit into his back.
Northern wind, he told himself.
Nothing more.
Piece by piece.
Dust turned to mud from the water pressure.
Then he heard it —
The opening from The Barber of Seville.
"Largo al factotum della citta."
'I better calm down. The song is in repeat anyway.'
As the tune played, Cain sang along.
"La la la la."
"La la la la."
"La la la la la la la LA!"
The cheerful notes danced through the air—
The music stops.
"Figarooooo!"
Cain never stopped singing.
The festive music swept away his doubt and fear.
A little winded down, Cain breathed in a huge mouthful.
The voice of the song… now echoed in his own voice.
"Figaro... Figaro... Figaro... Figaro... Figaro!!!"
Almost noon, yet the sky dimmed like dusk closing in.
The ground under his feet fissured.
Spikes below and stalactites above.
Like a Venus flytrap — SNAP!
Blood sprayed in thick bursts.
Bone shards tore through the air like shrapnel.
Flesh and organs splayed like market meat—warm, twitching, veins still pulsing.
…
…
…
Cain?
…
…
…
The music stopped and the scent of blood blew all around.
The crunching however…
It still grinded one's ear.
…
…
…
[Session Over]
In a hammock high in the tree, an alarm buzzed through a terminal.
Cain stretched and glanced at his tablet.
'Is it over?'
"I guess that elephant was no more."
Click — Boom!
The plains shook with four blasts.
Blood spewed wide, misting the air in a dark, metallic fog that hung heavy on the skin.
'Let's see how things had progressed.'
First came the insects — tiny legs skittering, wings buzzing, drawn to death like instinct.
Proboscises pierced flesh, mandibles tore in.
The feast began within minutes.
Then the silence broke.
Carnivorous birds circled low, arriving just heartbeats later.
Beaks plunged deep, tearing flesh, drinking marrow.
The smaller birds? They snatched up the bugs—the feeders now food.
The magical beasts were not to be outdone.
Bears, wolves and leopards stalked the banquet of blood.
Lunge — a four-meter brown bear snatched a bird twice its size by the neck.
Its mate dove in to fight off the hungry beast — but too late.
Wolves were already tearing in, ripping tendons and feathers from the massive kill.
Long before the blood and broken bone, Cain had mapped it all out — down to the last step.
Taking that step back before he started probing the stone, he was long gone.
The pygmy glared at Cain, eyes blazing with hate, as it was dragged toward the stone, its rage started to build up.
[00:00:17]
"Still a lot of time before it slams shut."
He had dragged the still-living elephant to metal maw — methodical, precise, without hesitation.
Bound in layers of rope, a hidden glint flickered in the pygmy's eyes.
The moment Cain vanished from view, it exploded into motion.
Fueled by the last dregs of primal ki, it surged upward — a flight born of panic.
It refused to die like this.
But its own power betrayed it, sealing its fate.
The absorption of earth energy — a trigger to its demise.
As the steel trap closed, one thought echoed through its fading mind.
'Where… is this?'
As the wildlife continued their feeding frenzy, Cain only watched on the side.
Perched atop the tallest tree, surrounded by over dozens of monitoring drones, he observed with the calm detachment like an opera director.
Despite the frenzy, one figure stood motionless in the center of it all.
Towering over twenty meters, shaped like its last meal, clad in gore-streaked armor.
It was a shardling no more — What stood now was a Golemite, an abomination forged from its former self, stronger, smarter, and terrifyingly still.
The second rank of titan evolution. A step closer to sentience.
The animals knew of their presence, these beings only do three things.
Stand, study and fight.
The steel monster wasn't a beast anymore.
It moved with purpose. With precision.
Every animal, every instinct and every motion — it had learned them all.
Its mind? Cold. Calculating. A match for quantum thought.
But it lacked something men had — execution and common sense.
Their minds — stuck in infancy, forever chasing thoughts too big to hold.
It was as if nature had drawn a line they couldn't cross.
Cain watched in silence, absorbing every detail.
He'd seen its limits — its brilliance, its blindness.
But he didn't just come to witness. He came with purpose.
A goal — not just for himself, but for Arthur.
His eyes narrowed.
"This might be the key to replacing Renegade."
Tracing the currents of energy, Cain imitated how it pulsed through the creature's processor-core.
'It's progress... but not enough. I'm only hitting fourteen-times acceleration. Still miles behind.'
Renegade pushed past a thousand or more — with ease.
"I just hope… I still can make it before he —"
His thought cut short. The land rumbled in the distance.
Trees toppled one by one from the west, something was coming — fast.
Cain took a deep breath, trying to wash away his emotional fatigue.
'I need to focus now. It's just the start, no need to rush things out.'
The dust rolled through the boreal forest.
Stepping out from the haze — hulking forms, ranging from three to nine meters, each one a walking omen.
Blue-skinned. Silent. Tattoos laced down their left arms, a sign of their tribe, a sign for each kill.
Holding weapons too large for comfort — uprooted trees, rusted steel lashed to a bone, clubs shaped more by rage than craft.
They didn't speak. Just walked.
Then came a distant roar — deep, commanding.
And they moved.
Not like beasts. Like soldiers.
Each one with different roles and fighting stances.
They weren't here for a party — they came to raid.
"Now for the finishing touches."
The lionare's carcass, over two meters of muscle and bone was flung onto the golemite's head — hanging limp.
Magnets buried in its flesh locked it in place, a grotesque crown atop the creature of steel.
The all predators watched.
Still.
Silent.
All eyes locked on the prize — a rare piece of meat.