■THE SECOND DAY OF THE WAVE HAS BEGUN■
■CANDIDATES LOST: NONE■
The lands of Ludum Mundi bore fresh scars from the first day of the Wave. Across deserts, forests, swamps, and oceans, battles had left blood-soaked soil, shattered trees, and broken stone. Many had fallen such losses were inevitable but most races had endured. Some even saw opportunity in the endless slaughter.
But now the second day dawned. As the sun rose and the moon sank below the horizon, the rumble of the earth and the roar of distant beasts signaled a grim truth: the Wave would not let them rest.
This was why the Wave was so dangerous. It did not relent. It pressed endlessly, wearing down even the strongest. Without unity, planning, and endurance, any race no matter how fierce would eventually be executed by attrition.
The Jackrixis tribes knew this well. Between battles, they ate quickly, licking blood from claw and fang, conserving strength however they could. They were hunters, not fools; recklessness only led to a short, dishonorable end. They did not need to win every fight survival through all three days was victory enough. Pride, honor, and divine recognition would follow only if they endured.
The Sand Striders and the Worm
In the scorching desert, the Sand Striders had devised a clever tactic on the first day. A handful would act as bait, drawing monsters into pursuit, while the others lay hidden beneath dunes and dried husks of plants. Once the prey tired, the hidden Striders would emerge, strike, and vanish again into the sands.
It had worked well. Against wolves, bears, and other beasts, they had turned the desert itself into a weapon. But on the second day, their luck shifted.
The bait Jackrixis waited beneath the blazing sun, claws flexing in the sand. Yet no beasts came. Only the uneasy rumble beneath their feet.
Then came the horror. The ground split as a massive sandworm erupted upward, swallowing the bait Striders whole. Hundreds of needle-like teeth ground flesh and bone in an instant, crushing them before dragging their remains into the abyss.
Another Strider charged in blind fury, only to be flattened beneath the worm's thrashing bulk. The others froze, tense and silent, unwilling to reveal themselves until they understood this new foe.
The worm sank back below, its pulsing flesh sealing as though the earth itself had swallowed it. For hours it stalked unseen, the Striders stranded, unable to call for help without giving themselves away.
At last, fortune or perhaps fate delivered them a test. A lone beast wandered into the open. The sand shifted. The worm burst forth and devoured it whole, skin splitting grotesquely along its side as it retreated.
The Striders shared looks and silent gestures. A plan. When next the worm struck, they would attack together, while one blew the horn to call reinforcements.
A female warrior took the task of the horn, knowing it was a death sentence if the creature hunted sound.
When the next victim came, the plan began. As the worm lunged, the Striders burst from the sand, claws sinking into its thick hide, weapons stabbing deep. Dark blood sprayed across the dunes. The horn's mournful wail echoed across the desert, summoning kin.
The worm shrieked in rage, a roar of grinding teeth and acidic bile. The sound split the Striders' ears, blood trickling from some as they clung desperately to its writhing bulk.
The female warrior blew again, even as the beast turned on her. Its maw opened wide, spewing corrosive bile that consumed her flesh in an instant. Her screams rang across the sands but so too did her defiance. She died in agony, but also in honor, her sacrifice etched into her kin's memory.
The battle raged. One Strider was hurled from the worm and killed on impact. But at last reinforcements arrived: eleven warriors armed with spears and stone-throwers. Coordinating with the Striders already clinging to the worm, they weakened the beast until, finally, its titanic body crashed into the bloodstained sand.
The survivors roared in triumph, though their voices carried both victory and grief. They left the worm's carcass where it fell, too foul to consume. Instead, they honored their dead and returned to the tribe, leaving the sands to claim both worm and warrior alike.
The Other Races on Day Two
Candidate 1 – Hector Venules (Age 33)
Main Race: Demon Hounds
The demon hounds, unstoppable on the first day, met their match on the second. Packs of silver-furred rodents swarmed them hundreds strong, each creature no larger than a hound's chest, yet armed with sharp claws and powerful teeth. They struck for eyes and bellies, overwhelming the hounds through sheer numbers.
Battles stretched long into the day. For every three rodents a hound tore apart, two more leapt upon its back. The clash between predator and vermin devolved into a brutal war of attrition, with no clear victor yet in sight.
Candidate 2 – Nancy Little (Age 41)
Main Race: Little Blues
Once again, the blizzard protected the Little Blues, walls of snow and screaming wind keeping predators at bay. But unease spread among them. For through the frozen veil, they saw shifting shadows huge beasts circling, waiting.
They had no weapons, no fortifications. Their strategy was simple: some dug holes to hide belowground, while others took to the trees. It was no true defense, only a desperate measure should the blizzard ever break.
Candidate 3 – Ida Kerry (Age 29)
Main Race: Venoids
The Venoids faced new threats in the depths armored crustaceans that rained volleys of poisonous barbs. One touch burned holes the size of fists through their flesh. The Venoids darted and weaved, striking when they could, but many were slain.
Then, curiously, half the crustaceans vanished mid-battle, abandoning the fight. The Venoids were left victorious but uneasy, wondering what had drawn their foes away.
Candidate 4 – Gabriela Campos (Age 22)
Main Race: Light Sprites
In the great forest, the Light Sprites' sorrow deepened. Wolves, boars, and bears were one thing. But on this day, their enemies included treants the ancient guardians of the woods.
The eldest resisted the Wave's corruption, but the young and newly born treants fell, driven into maddened fury. With heavy hearts, the Sprites struck down the very beings they once revered as protectors and healers of the land.
Candidate 5 – Chase Stone (Age 21)
Main Race: Giant Owls
The owls fared better on the second day. Where the centipedes had nearly broken them, the new foes flocks of smaller birds and winged beasts were easily outmatched by their size and strength.
The audience watching noted the strange balance of fate. Some races struggled against foes others crushed with ease. For now, the owls held firm, their talons dripping with the blood of lesser creatures.
Candidate 6 – Naya Kabir (Age 34)
Main Race: Weaver Queens
The Weaver Queens handled the Wave without difficulty. Prey became food; food became strength. But a greater problem loomed themselves.
The endless meals had caused their children to grow rapidly, too rapidly. Space dwindled in their web-choked forest. Soon they would need to expand or turn on one another.
Worse still, an unusual number of males survived. Normally they lived only long enough to mate before being consumed, but with the population boom, some grew stronger and lasted longer. The females whispered in unease. They still held dominance, but for how long?
Candidate 7 – Wagner Hoffman (Age 55)
Main Race: Draconic Fledglings
In the swamps, the fledglings continued their steady progress. They killed with claw and tooth, never yet showing interest in weapons. But signs of change flickered groups formed more often, and some gazed curiously at natural fire sparked by storms.
It was small, but perhaps the first step toward something greater.
Candidate 8 – Hyun Jee Park (Age 27)
Main Race: Ever-Swarm
The swarm thrived. With new biomass, the queen experimented, altering her brood. Some warriors were born with tougher hides; others, greater speed. It was not a revolution, but it was evolution and it promised more to come.
Candidate 9 – Evaline Sato (Age 19)
Main Race: Ocean Lords
The shark-men still reveled in the Wave, though the prey grew more troublesome creatures with barbed spines that lodged deep into flesh. Even so, the Ocean Lords tore them apart, laughing as they hunted.
Yet beneath their brutality, a flicker of thought lingered. These were beasts, yes, but not equals. Where, they wondered, were foes like themselves?
The second day of the Wave pressed onward. Across Ludum Mundi, some races faltered, some endured, and some even grew stronger. But all knew the truth: the third day would be worse still.