The forest was no longer the same.
The echoes of Ulka Patta still lingered in the wind like phantom thunder. Trees burned silently in the distance, their trunks split open by meteoric impact. The once lush and untamed wilderness was now scarred by craters large enough to swallow entire houses. The soil was charred, blood of beasts soaked deep into the ground, and a smell of death hung heavy in the night air.
Dawon's paws pounded against the earth, each stride carrying Om and Dev farther from the chaos behind. His golden mane glimmered faintly with the aura of submission still clinging to him, though his body trembled from exertion. Dev clung to Om's body tightly, trying to stabilize him while holding onto Dawon with the other arm. Om lay limp, his face pale, lips dry, his chest rising faintly with each shallow breath.
"Hold on, Om… just hold on," Dev muttered, his voice half a prayer, half desperation.
But then—
A sudden flicker of light pierced through the trees. Ahead, the shadows shifted and organized themselves into shapes. Men. Machines.
A group of armored vehicles appeared from the darkness, floodlights illuminating the forest road. Dozens of figures stepped forward—Chinese authorities, their insignias gleaming red and gold under the pale moonlight. Guns, tranquilizer launchers, and energy scanning devices aimed directly at Dawon.
The lion skidded to a halt, muscles tensed, his claws digging into the soil as a low growl reverberated from his throat. The sound was primal, a warning that shook the air. His golden eyes gleamed like a predator cornered but unafraid.
The soldiers instinctively flinched back, some raising their weapons higher. The leader, a towering officer with a square jaw and heavy military coat, stepped forward. His expression was stone, but his hand rested lightly on the holster of his sidearm.
"Identify yourselves," the officer barked, his voice sharp as steel.
Dawon growled louder, taking a step forward, his mane bristling, ready to pounce at the slightest hostile movement.
"Wait—WAIT!" Dev shouted, his voice cracking with fear. He quickly leaned forward, clutching Dawon's mane. "Dawon, calm down! They're not enemies… they're here to help us!"
The lion's ears flicked back, his gaze shifting between Dev and the soldiers. His tail lashed violently once, twice, but then he slowly lowered himself, though his eyes never left the officer. A warning remained in his posture—one wrong move, and he would strike.
The officer's gaze shifted to Dev. "You speak?"
"Yes," Dev replied quickly. His voice trembled, his throat dry. "We… We're trainee inheritors from the Himalaya nation. We were inside the forest when it happened."
The officer's sharp eyes flicked to Om, lying limp across Dawon's back. His brows furrowed. "What happened to this child?"
Dev froze. His mind spun wildly. He couldn't tell the truth—not about the scenes he saw. But he couldn't lie completely either. He had to tread carefully, or suspicion would swallow them both.
He took a shaky breath and forced his voice steady. "We… we were hunting beasts. Suddenly… monsters began to disappear into a cave. We followed them. But then—" Dev's fists clenched tightly, his knuckles white.
"—then meteors began to rain from the sky. Everything was chaos. My friend… he fell unconscious protecting us. It was his mount beast, Dawon, who carried us out."
The officer's expression remained unreadable. His dark eyes pierced through Dev as if weighing every word, every hesitation. "Meteors?" he repeated coldly.
"Yes," Dev nodded frantically, his throat tightening. "The beasts went insane. Stampede… too many to count. If not for Dawon… we would all be dead."
Behind the officer, one of his subordinates whispered urgently, "Sir, the aftermath reports match. Craters. Beasts slaughtered by the thousands. Satellite imagery confirms localized meteor strikes."
The officer raised a hand to silence him, his gaze still locked on Dev. After a long, tense silence, he finally spoke. "Write down everything this boy has said. Every word. Do not miss a detail."
"Yes, Commander!" the soldiers responded, already scribbling notes, some recording on handheld devices.
The officer then turned back toward Dev. "You will be taken for treatment. Both of you. And this… beast." He glanced at Dawon cautiously, his hand twitching slightly toward his weapon. "It will accompany you, under observation."
Dev swallowed hard, nodding quickly. "Yes. Please—help him first," he pleaded, looking down at Om.
The officer gestured curtly. "Load them into the aircraft."
Two armored medics approached cautiously, their every step measured under Dawon's glaring eyes. The lion rumbled low in his throat, but Dev placed a trembling hand on his mane. "It's alright, Dawon. For Om's sake. Let's go with them."
Dawon's nostrils flared, his muscles taut as coiled steel. Yet, for Om's sake, he relented. His massive paws carried him toward the waiting aircraft, his golden eyes never once leaving the armed soldiers surrounding them.
The cargo bay of the aircraft hissed open, revealing rows of restraints, scanners, and padded seats. Dawon stepped inside, his claws clicking against the metal floor, carrying Om's limp form carefully on his back. Dev followed closely behind, his heart pounding like a war drum.
As the doors sealed shut and the engines roared to life, Dev glanced once more at the officer standing outside. The man's gaze was still locked onto them—cold, sharp, calculating.
Dev's stomach twisted. He knew. Somewhere deep down.
"Hope! no one will learn the truth of this incident."
.
.
.
.
Inside the humming aircraft, the medics and healers surrounded Om's still body.
The professionals checked his pulse, his eyes, his aura circulation—yet every reading came back normal.
"He's not injured," one healer murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. "His body is perfectly fine. Just… utterly drained."
Another nodded. "It's as if he poured out every drop of his strength. He'll wake in a day. Maybe less."
Dev, sitting nearby, released a shaky breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His hands, still trembling from the memory of that golden storm of meteors, clenched tight on his knees. He had expected wounds, broken bones, at least some scar left behind after such power. But Om lay there peacefully, breathing slowly, almost like he was just asleep.
A heavy step echoed across the cabin floor. An officer in dark green military uniform approached Dev. His expression was serious, voice clipped.
"The training mission is officially over," the officer declared. "The stampede incident has been classified as an emergency-level anomaly. You and your companion will not be sent back into the forest again."
Dev blinked, unsure if relief or disappointment swirled in his chest. The officer didn't wait for an answer.
"Your nation's representatives will arrive soon to take you, your comrade, and the other trainee inheritors back. Until then, you will remain under our watch."
Dev swallowed and nodded. He glanced at Om again, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. You did something impossible again, Om. Just what are you turning into…?
The roar of the aircraft engines carried them away from the chaos they had left behind.