[3rd POV]
(Maasai Mara)
The dry season had stripped the land bare where they were.
Dust ruled the plains now. The grasses were brittle, pale, and crushed flat by the hooves of migrating herds. Only the Mara River still cut through the land like a dark scar, its waters slow and heavy beneath the heat.
A little north of the river, a few kilometres into the Maasai Mara territory, thirteen lions waited.
The coalition had gathered near a shallow ridge where scattered acacia trees broke the horizon. From here, they could see far across the open savanna, where the dust trails of buffalo and zebra moved like drifting smoke.
At the centre of them sat Scarface.
The lion king was in his prime, but his body already carried the history of a hundred battles as if he were an ancient beast. A thick scar ran across his muzzle, pale against the dark gold of his fur. His symbolic scar on one of his eyes remained, making his presence alone look like a miracle.
Life had tried to kill him more than once, and life couldn't. All scars were a testament to his strength.
His mane was deep black at the ends and brownish black at the start. He didn't look powerful compared to other lions. Not at all like Leo, who was akin to looking at an ocean.
Scarface gave the presence of a small pond but bottomless.
Maybe that's something that was known because none of the other lions dared sit above him on the ridge.
The closest lion and his closest equal was Baraka, who rested beside him.
Baraka was enormous.
Even lying down, his body looked like a boulder dropped into the grass. His shoulders were wide enough to dwarf most lions, and the thick mane around his neck carried the pale colour of his white-lion bloodline. The weight of him alone made the ground sink slightly beneath his paws.
A dozen more paragraphs would be spent admiring his size and strength, had Leo not existed.
So even with his size and perfect genetics inherited from his uncles, as long as the king of the Serengeti breathes, Baraka remained the second largest lion in Africa.
Not a close second. But second, because there was really no one who could compare to the absolute monstrosity known as Leo, the tailless beast.
The Mara coalition, that was the name they decided on.
A coalition formed by Scarface and Baraka to kill the sole ruler of the Serengeti. United by hate, equalized by ambition and driven with the grand purpose of correcting nature's mistake of giving birth to Leo.
Around Baraka and Scarface sat the other eleven males. Some younger, but most were veterans with torn ears, scars and broken teeth.
When the 23 coalition separated, King Sumu took the most juvenile and inexperienced bunch, so the leftovers who were wise enough to stick with Scarface could be said to be the elites.
For hours the coalition waited in silence.
Until eventually, one of the younger lions lifted his head.
"Someone comes."
All thirteen turned.
Far across the plain, three shapes began to appear. They were moving slowly, perhaps too slowly in contrast to their shapes which were that of lions.
Scarface rose to his feet.
Dust clung to the figures as they approached. When they were near, it could be seen that their manes were ragged, their bodies carried deep bite marks, claw gashes, and the exhaustion of a long retreat.
Three lions.
Once…
They had been ten.
Scarface looked forward with knowing eyes, as if he had seen this very same sight many months ago.
The tallest among the three lions stopped several lengths away from the ridge.
King Sumu.
Or what remained of him.
The lion who had once ruled a coalition strong enough to challenge the entire southern Mara now looked like a ghost of that power. One eye was swollen half-shut. His flank carried a deep gash that had only barely begun to close.
But these injuries were more shameful than most. Because they weren't even a direct result of Leo but the hyenas that chased after him in retreat.
The two other lions stood behind him, both limping and silent.
The wind moved between the two groups and no one spoke at first. It was as if Scarface wanted to observe them further before welcoming them or dismissing them.
They stood in shame.
Scarface stepped forward after a long pause. He began descending the ridge.
His voice was low.
"You live."
Sumu's tail twitched.
"We live."
Baraka rose next.
The giant lion walked down the slope beside Scarface. His heavy paws crushed dry grass beneath each step, his massive shoulders rolling with quiet power.
His eyes settled on Sumu.
Then on the wounds covering him.
Baraka spoke only two words.
"Where are they?"
Sumu did not answer immediately.
His gaze drifted past them for a moment. He turned back to the endless plains stretching south.
Toward the direction of the Serengeti.
When he finally spoke, his voice carried no pride.
"Dead."
The word hung in the air.
Sumu continued.
"We found him."
No explanation was needed.
Everyone in the Mara knew who him was.
Sumu's jaw tightened.
"He fought alone."
A bitter laugh escaped one of the injured lions behind him.
"He is always alone," Scarface confirmed. "There are no other monsters like him to stand beside him."
"We were ten," Sumu said. "Ten lions against one. The fight went just like I expected."
Scarface stood in front of him now.
"A fight between an ant and a paw," he said. "The only thing I didn't expect was that we were the ant."
The memory burned behind his eyes. And as Scarface gazed into him, it was like he was there in the battle. Like he could see Sumu's memories.
Or...
Perhaps it was because both kings shared a very similar memory.
Once upon a time, Scarface, too, had led his brothers and a coalition. Six lions against one and lost an embarrassing defeat.
"So you fled," Scarface asked.
"We did," Sumu nodded. "But for the sole reason of fighting another day."
Sumu continued, "I apologise for my misbehaviour in the past. But I ask to join your coalition once more."
He bowed in front of Scarface.
"Please, allow me to take back the pride I left behind."
"You betrayed me once," Scarface said.
Silence.
Silence that was long enough to tense every muscle.
"But I welcome you back, brothers," Scarface said in the end.
"Now you see!" Scarface said, his voice exploding throughout the ridge.
"I was right. I am right," he said, talking to everyone.
"King Leo is not something we can take down splintered or alone. He is a challenge on our shoulders that requires complete alliance and union. We can't do this alone. I can't, nor can Baraka or King Sumu," he said.
"Let this sight be a warning. Ten lions had gone, ten lions had failed."
"There are sixteen of us now. What we need to do is for all of us to fight as one entity. Because I promise, the enemy is just as powerful as we. No more underestimating him. Let hatred no longer blind you to the truth that we are all nothing compared to him," he said.
"We are nothing," he repeated.
"We are nothing compared to him."
A pause.
"But together, we can become something that could rival him," he said.
The lions gave a roar, each and every one of them.
Scarface turned back to Sumu.
"Tell me, did he bleed?"
"He did," Sumu replied fast.
"Then we leave now," he said. "We fight before his wounds close."
And so...
On that very same evening,
All the remaining lions of the Mara coalition crossed the river.
..
..
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[3rd POV]
"You monster," said a meerkat that was laying on top of a warthog.
The monster had a brother.
"How long has it been since we walked North? When are you going to be satisfied, Simba? Until our legs fall off?"
"Just a little further, Timon. We're almost there. I can feel it," Simba said, walking in front and leading the way.
For weeks now, they had crossed the endless terrains in the north, as that was the direction Rafiki told them to go.
In their journey, they had crossed many different terrains. Rocky, plain, mountainous etc. But still, even now, their destination was nowhere to be found.
"Feel it? You can feel it?" Timon asked exaggeratedly before climbing on the warthog's face. "Pumba, can you believe this guy? He said he can feel it!"
"Can you feel it too?"
"The only thing I can feel is the emptiness of the void," Pumba said, his voice tired. The void he was referring to being his stomach.
Usually, his appetite was so big it was often referred to as the void. A stomach that could eat forever.
"To tell you the truth, I don't think I have shit inside me anymore," he said.
The two duo stared at Simba's back as he led the way forward.
"I told you before Pumba, that cub is going to be the end of us."
When Simba left the forest, he thought he left alone. But kind of like in the canon, Pumba and Timon followed him as they couldn't let their adopted son go into war alone.
When Simba was disappointed and he was about to set out to find Leo, that was when they reunited. And instead of going back home, the two decided to stick by Simba until the very end.
"We can't keep going. We can't go back either since we've already gone too far. This is certain death," Timon said, laying on Pumba's pig snout.
"If I die, please don't let Simba eat me. You can have me all to yourself," Timon said his final will.
"Don't be dramatic Timon, I told you, I can feel it," Simba said from the front.
"Walk towards the North. Walk until you lose every bit of hope. And then walk some more. Leo will find you then." That was basically what Rafiki had told Simba before departure.
After a few more hours of walking, Simba suddenly stopped. His head snapped towards the sky, his nose twitching.
"Water," Simba said, eyes wide with hope. "I can smell the water!"
Although a lion who was bigger and fiercer than most, Simba couldn't help but jump around joyously like a little cub.
Timon and Pumba celebrated too before they headed towards the water source.
They needed food, but they needed water badly.
But before they could venture far, the flap of wings stopped them in their tracks.
Two vultures who seemed like a couple flew down and sat on the branch of a tree in front of them. Timon, being a meerkat, immediately changed rides as he climbed on top of Simba for better protection.
Meerkats were prey to most large birds after all.
"Look at this hubby, right when we thought food was scarce," one of the vultures said with glee.
"Huhuhu, look at the size of that lion and warthog. I see a feast in the near future," the other said.
The two birds laughed, trembling on the branch.
"Hey you assholes! Come down here and fight if you want to make us a meal. I bet you wouldn't with my pet lion around," Timon screamed back under Simba's protection.
"Oh we wouldn't have to do a thing," the she bird said. "You've already crossed the line. From here, the further you walk, the more certain your death is. And you have no choice but to walk forward because water and food lie beyond."
"What do you mean?" Simba asked in confusion.
The two birds looked at each other before laughing some more.
"Man, I love newcomers."
"Because the further you go, the closer you are to Leo."
"I wouldn't spoil the surprise for you," they said before jumping off the branch and flying into the distance.
They had a message to deliver.
Confused, the three made their way towards the pond.
When they reached there, they saw that it was a drying lake. They rushed to the shore and drank the water. Pumba and Timon went as far as to swim in the water to cool down.
Simba watched them from the shore, a sense of unease on his shoulder.
And then...
A crack of thunder.
A roar.
Simba's head snapped towards the sound.
And at that point, he kind of realized what line he had crossed.
Simba had crossed into the Serengeti.
..
..
[IMAGE]
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