Thunder and lightning tear the sky apart, shattering the sound of the night. Rain falls like bullets from the sky, turning the earth below into a swamp of mud . With every flash and roar, the trees sway arrogantly—as if alive, as if they too watch the horror unfolding before them.
A deafening crack of thunder splits the air as lightning slams into a tree, igniting it in a violent blaze and shattering it into burning fragments.
From the fire's heart, Black Wolves burst forth, leaping through the flames. They spread in all directions—circling the camp, their howls rising like demons unleashed, their bodies low to the ground, running on all fours like true wolves.
Las grips Sifu's staff tight, his eyes narrowing.
All around, animals scream in terror, scattering through the mud, desperate for a way out. But it's useless—
the Black Wolves have surrounded the camp.
Eli runs through the chaos, shouting over the storm.
Eli:
"Las! We have to do something!"
Las doesn't answer. His eyes are locked on the hill—the Marshal stands there, barely visible in the dark, the glow of his green eye burning through the rain.
Eli:
"Las?!"
Las turns toward her, gripping Sifu's staff tightly. Blood trickles down the side of his head. His voice is cold, steady.
Las:
"We need to find Grov. He'll know what to do."
Eli nods quickly, eyes wide, and the two of them sprint through the wreckage.
"They move along the western edge of the camp, where the rain pools into deep mud and the burning tents collapse one by one
Small explosions rain down from the ridge, shaking the camp. Animals run in blind panic—
a badger drops to his knees, clutching his child's limp body, screaming into the night.
Nearby, a rabbit with a severed leg howls in agony.
Others try to flee toward the outskirts, but a Black Wolf charges through the smoke, slamming into them with his head, flinging their bodies back into the dark.
Eli stops for a moment, frozen, eyes wide with horror.
Las grabs her arm, voice low but firm.
Las:
"We can't do anything now, Eli."
She swallows hard, nods once, and runs again beside him—both vanishing into the storm and fire.
"From the northern hill, towering over the camp like a black crown, the Marshal watches the chaos unfold from the hilltop, rain streaking down his face.
A Black Wolf approaches from behind, breathing heavily.
Black Wolf:
"Marshal… shall we begin?"
Marshal:
"Yes. Begin."
—
Las and Eli stumble through the wreckage until they find Grov lying on the ground, wounded and dazed.
Grov:
"My head… what's happening?"
They crouch beside him; Las and Eli each grab an arm, pulling him upright.
Las:
"No time to explain, Master Grov."
Eli:
"We have to find a way out—fast!"
Grov lifts his head, staring at the burning camp, shock frozen on his face.
Grov:
"This is where our road ends… you two must go on without me."
Las (angrily):
"Shut up, old drunk—we're leaving together!"
Grov:
"Go! Save yourselves!"
Eli's eyes fill with tears as Grov's voice cracks.
Las clenches his jaw, trembling.
Las:
"No… no, no, no!"
Grov angry cartoonish face
"Stubborn monkey… you never listen to your elders, do you?"
Las:
"No no no no."
They lift Grov between them, struggling through the rain. Eli spots a half-collapsed stone building ahead.
Eli:
"There ,hurry!"
But before they can reach it, a Black Wolf bursts into the camp, charging on all fours through the mud and smoke.
Las's head jerks up—his eyes widen.
Las:
"Watch ou "
The wolf slams into them with brutal force, sending all three flying through the air like rag dolls.
Las lies motionless atop the wreckage of a wooden hut, the rain dripping onto his fur.
His eyes snap open, breath ragged. He groans, forcing himself upright—his whole body trembling with pain.
He lifts his head. Through the smoke and fire, he sees them—Black Wolves pouring into the camp, emerging from the flames like beasts from hell. They crash into the terrified animals, slamming them aside with their heads, then vanish again into the fire and smoke,
Suddenly, from the top of the hill, black bottles shoot into the sky, spinning wildly before crashing down one by one.
Las looks up, eyes wide, tail frozen mid-sway.
LAS: "What… what are those!?"
One bottle lands right in front of him, shattering on impact.
From the broken glass, a thick black smoke bursts out, swirling like a living shadow.
Las stumbles back, clutching his throat—his breath caught.
He gasps, eyes trembling, voice cracking—
LAS:
"Wh what is…
this…
my throa !!!
gghhh !"
Las clutches his throat as his breath cuts short.
Directly ahead, a dark shadow emerges from the flames and smoke.
His vision blurs — the poison has already clouded his eyes, and he can no longer see clearly.
Slowly, Las's vision begins to return.
The black shadow takes shape — it's the Marshal, standing motionless with his arms crossed.
Las reaches for Sifu's staff lying beside him and grips it tightly, coughing up blood.
The Marshal stood motionless—
his single green eye glinting through the flames and chaos.
Behind him, a red panda darted through the inferno, desperate to escape.
He sprinted past the Marshal's back
but the wolf's gaze shifted.
In a blur of motion, the Marshal turned
His boot shot out, smashing into the red panda's leg.
Bone snapped.
The scream that followed was drowned by the roar of the fire and Strom
The Marshal drew his pistol,
aiming it calmly at the red panda.
The creature screamed in agony, clutching its shattered leg.
Tears streamed down its face as it lifted its head,
eyes trembling as they met the Marshal's cold, unblinking gaze.
For a brief moment, the world fell silent.
Then—without hesitation—
the Marshal pulled the trigger.
The bullet struck the panda's head.
Its body fell still,
and the flames continued to burn around them,
as if nothing had happened.
Beside the Marshal, Grov lay on the ground
exhausted, wounded, gasping for breath.
The Marshal turned his gaze toward him,
his expression cold and unreadable.
Without a word, he reached down,
his clawed hand wrapping around Grov's throat.
Lifting him effortlessly into the air,
he watched the owl struggle—
each breath a ragged cry for life.
Then, with brutal force,
the Marshal slammed him to the ground,
the impact shaking the dirt beneath them.
Grov groaned, his body limp.
The Marshal pressed his boot down onto Grov's head,
grinding it against the earth as flames flickered around them.
The Marshal pressed his boot harder against Grov's head and, with a deep, merciless voice, shouted:
Marshal:
"Monkey — wherever you are — bring me the papyrus. Or I'll crush his skull."
Grov croaked out, gasping for air, his words raw and urgent:
Grov:
"Las — you idiot, get out of here. Don't do what that fool says."
The Marshal drove his boot down with even more force.
Then, spotting two shadows running through the dark, he raised his pistol and fired twice into the night.
Lightning split the sky, and for a breath the rain-washed world was revealed:
two small animals stood there, motionless — their bodies already lifeless, rain clinging to them like tears.
Grov glared up at the Marshal, hatred burning in his eyes as the boot pressed harder against his head.
Grov:
"You're nothing but a pathetic, miserable little puppy…
that's all you'll ever be."
The Marshal's anger flared; he raised his boot, ready to crush Grov's skull beneath it.
From the smoke, a single voice sliced through the chaos.
"Stop."
Las stepped forward from the haze, papyrus held high in both hands. He walked toward the Marshal with steady, reckless calm.
Las:
"Isn't this what you want? Come and take it."
The Marshal slowly withdrew his boot from Grov's head. He straightened, the creen eye burning with fury, and began to stride forward — knife clutched in his hand, every step deliberate and menacing.
Las gripped Sifu's staff tightly, his hands trembling as the Marshal's terrifying figure charged toward him.
He took a deep breath.
Las (in his mind):
I can do this… I'll do it… I'll take down that bastard.
Suddenly, the image of Sifu's lifeless body flashed through his mind.
Rage surged inside him.
He let out a silent cry, raised the staff high, and rushed forward with all his strength.
As he swung down—
the Marshal caught the staff mid-air, snatching it from his hands and tossing it aside with ease.
Then, with a swift, cutting motion, he drove his boot into Las's stomach.
Las's eyes went white—
his breath vanished,
and the world spun into silence.
As Las lay motionless on the ground, the Marshal crouched beside him and picked up the papyrus.
He looked at it, confused.
It wasn't a map…
It was a childish drawing — a sun, and a few small animals playing together.
The Marshal's jaw tightened. His teeth ground in anger.
He crushed the paper in his hand and tossed it into the flames.
Then he stepped forward, pressing his boot down on Las's head.
Marshal:
"You think you can fool me?
You… dare to mock me?"
He pressed harder, his strength relentless, forcing Las's face into the dirt as the fire crackled around them.
Las screamed in pain, his hand clawing at the Marshal's boot, trying to push it away.
Then, from beyond the flames, another voice rang out—
Eli:
"Maybe this is what you're looking for… huh?"
She stood with the papyrus in her hands.
The firelight flickered across it, forming glowing lines—revealing it was the real one.
The Marshal kicked Las aside, his eyes burning like a demon's, and charged toward Eli.
But she darted backward, vanishing into the smoke.
The Marshal's glare snapped to his soldiers.
Marshal:
"Don't just stand there, you fools! She has the papyrus! After her!"
The Black Wolves raised their rifles and opened fire into the flames and darkness.
Eli ran, weaving through the burning ruins as bullets rained down around her.
One struck her shoulder — she cried out, stumbling, but didn't stop.
Clutching the papyrus to her chest, she kept running, disappearing deeper into the shadow and darkness.
Grov charged forward and kicked Sifu's staff across the ground toward Las.
Las caught it mid-air, his grip tightening.
In a single motion, he rose to his feet—
and as the Marshal turned his back,
Las sprinted forward and struck him across the head.
The Marshal staggered, clutching his skull as Las shouted in fury:
Las:
"That's for Master Sifu!"
He swung again, the staff slamming into the Marshal's leg.
The man roared in pain.
Las:
"And that's for destroying my home… and my friends!"
The Marshal dropped to one knee, glaring up at him.
Las raised the staff high for one final blow
but then, the Marshal lifted his head.
His green eye gleamed,
and a cruel, mocking smile spread across his face.
As Las brought the staff down,
the Marshal drew his blade in a flash—
a single, precise strike.
Blood burst through the firelight.
Las cry and scream.
His right arm fell away,
spinning into the flames.
He collapsed to his knees,
a scream tearing from his throat as blood poured down his shoulder.
The world around him blurred into red and smoke.
Las screamed and wept, clutching his bleeding shoulder.
The Marshal raised his pistol, calm and deliberate,
aiming it directly at Las's head.
His finger began to tighten on the trigger—
—but before he could fire, Grov stumbled forward,
driving his fist weakly into the Marshal's ribs.
The Marshal turned his gaze toward him, unfazed,
as if he hadn't even felt the hit.
Marshal:
"The weak… have no place in this world."
Grov looked up at him, eyes burning with fury and despair.
Grov:
"I'll say it again…"
Silence filled the burning air.
"…You're nothing but a pathetic little puppy."
The Marshal's expression hardened.
He swung the pistol, striking Grov across the head.
The impact cracked through the silence—
and Grov collapsed, motionless, as the flames continued to rise around them.
The Marshal stood over Grov's lifeless body,
blood flowing like a river around the corpse.
Las's vision blurred.
The sight of Grov's body shattered something inside him.
A roar of hatred tore from his throat—
a sound that didn't belong to the same boy anymore.
His eyes turned white, streaked with red lines,
and the air around him began to tremble.
He rose to his feet, staring at the Marshal with pure rage.
The Black Wolves froze.
For the first time, they felt fear.
The Marshal fired his pistol—
the bullet tore through Las's stomach,
but he didn't fall.
Las charged forward.
Before the Marshal could fire again,
Las's left fist slammed into his gut with monstrous force.
The Marshal screamed, blood spraying from his mouth as the sound of bones shattering filled the air.
He fell to his knees, clutching his stomach, gasping in disbelief.
The Black Wolves stared in shock—
their unbreakable commander…
was bleeding.
Las's eyes rolled shut.
He collapsed to the ground—unconscious.
The Marshal straightened, clutching his stomach, coughing up blood.
Marshal:
"What the…?"
A sudden crack split the air—the sound of a flare gun.
The Marshal lifted his gaze.
Through the storm and darkness, a crimson light rose high into the sky, burning like a firework against the rain.
From the chaos below, Eli stood, holding the flare pistol.
Before she could move, two Black Wolves seized her, throwing her to the ground and ripping the papyrus from her hands.
The Marshal turned toward her, his cold green eye gleaming through the rain.
Then—a voice.
A woman's voice.
Sharp, commanding, and filled with hatred, echoing through the storm:
??? (female voice):
"You've done… far too much."
The Marshal froze, slowly turning his head toward the sound.
Through the sheets of rain and fire, a dark figure emerged—
a hooded silhouette, twin green eyes shining beneath a black cloak.
In her hands—a sniper rifle.
???
"You've gone too far."
Lightning split the sky.
The face beneath the hood became clear—
a rat, her emerald eyes blazing.
The Black Wolves gasped.
One of them shouted in panic:
Black Wolf:
"T-That's her!"
Instantly, they raised their guns toward her.
But the rat stepped forward without fear,
raising her sniper and sighting straight at the Marshal.
Her voice was colder now, dripping with venom:
Rat:
"You've done far too much."
The Marshal didn't flinch.
He stood calm—eerily calm—his smirk curling.
Then the ground beneath them began to tremble.
The Black Wolves froze, eyes darting downward as the earth shook violently under their feet.
The Marshal chuckled—a low, mocking laugh, echoing through the fire and thunder.
Marshal:
"Heh… so it begins."
The ground split open with a violent crack.
From the mud and soil, an entire army of Lizardmen rose—
their rifles aimed directly at the Marshal.
The Marshal stood calm, his cold eye gleaming through the rain,
unbothered by the wall of guns now facing him.
From within the ranks of the Lizardmen, a familiar figure emerged—
hands tucked casually in his pockets, a crooked smile curling his lips.
Scarface:
"Well, what do you know… what a coincidence.
The little puppy."
The Black Wolves bristled with rage, teeth bared,
ready to tear him apart.
Scarface tilted his head, peering over his sunglasses,
his gaze sliding toward the rat standing in the storm.
Scarface:
"And look who else we have here…
the rebel princess, Aloy."
Aloy raised her sniper rifle, aiming it squarely at him.
Aloy:
"And you—the War Dog."
Scarface chuckled, playful and teasing, his grin sharp as a knife.
Scarface:
"War dog?
C'mon, princess… that's a little harsh, don't you think?"
The Marshal lifted his pistol toward Aloy,
while his other hand raised the knife, pointing it straight at Scarface.
Marshal:
"Scarface… lizard.
Do you have any idea how much your eyes are worth ?" I want your eyes!!!
Scarface laughed—light, carefree, almost childish.
Scarface:
"Sorry, puppy…
but you're just not my type."
Marshal:
"Enough games… let's end this.
Here and now."
Scarface pulled his hands from his pockets, his smirk fading into a sharp grin as he crouched forward—ready to strike.
Behind him, the Lizardmen took formation, weapons raised, eyes locked on the Black Wolves.
Aloy steadied her rifle, the barrel glinting through the rain.
She took aim at the Marshal—
and pulled the trigger.
A blinding flash lit up the battlefield—
and then…
everything went dark.
------
- ROCK CITY -
library
The fox stopped writing.
She closed the book gently, yet the sound echoed heavy in the silence.
Turning her head, she exhaled softly—
her breath extinguished the candle beside her,
the flame flickering once before fading into darkness.
She rose from the chair, holding the book close to her chest.
Her footsteps—slow, deliberate, echoing—
filled the quiet hall of the library.
And then,
with that eerie calm that follows the end of a story,
the silent fox walked out of the library,
leaving the darkness behind her.
The dark figure of the fox stepped out of the library and stopped at the entrance.
She stood still, gazing upward into the hollow ceiling of Rock City.
Through above, the moon began to break through—
its pale light piercing the darkness,
spilling down upon the ruined city below.
All around her, the remains of Rock City's inhabitants lay scattered—
thousands of lifeless animal bodies,
some long decayed, flesh melted away to bone.
The air was thick with silence and the scent of death.
Directly ahead of her rose a mountain—
a mountain built from the corpses of the fallen,
their twisted forms stacked upon one another,
a monument of horror against the moonlight.
The fox took a soft, steady breath.
Then, a calm and hauntingly gentle woman's voice began to echo through the ruins—
"I have walked this earth for thousands of years…
without meaning, without purpose.
Thousands of dead…
such is the fate of this world."
The moonlight began to pour down upon her,
wrapping her in silver glow.
And there she stood—
a white fox, her fur glimmering like starlight,
her eyes vast and deep,
swirling with the colors of a distant galaxy.
She turned her gaze…
and looked at you.
PREDETERMINED DEATH