Twenty years ago, eight children fought, laughed, and bled together—eight personalities that never matched, yet somehow completed one another.
They were loud, reckless, and inseparable.
Different as day and night, and proud of it.
They called themselves the Pack, and swore a childish oath:
"We will always be together."
But fate had other plans.
— Eight Years Ago —
One of them—the smallest, the gentlest—moved away with his family.
He promised to stay in touch. He did.
At first, his messages were full of jokes.
Then came shorter notes.
Then came the silence between them—the kind that hides pain.
The seven felt it.
So they made a pact: each day, one of them would visit Vico, the one that moved, to make sure he wasn't alone.
It was their way of protecting him and keeping the Pack together, even miles apart.
One day, it was Varga's turn.
But he never arrived.
That night, Vico called. His voice trembled through static.
"They're trying to kill me… help me…"
The seven didn't hesitate. They ran—some by train, some through the dark streets—hearts pounding with a dread they couldn't name.
By the time they reached his town, dawn had already painted the sky pale.
Police lines.
An ambulance door half-open.
A sheet fluttering in the wind.
Their friend lay beneath it—cold, still, the smile that once held their world now gone.
"It was your turn."
Falko said with a trembling voice.
Varga opened his mouth—
but nothing came out.
What could he say?
That he'd failed?
That he'd been too weak to protect the one friend who needed him most?
So, he stayed silent—
and let the blame fall where he thought it belonged.
That night seven Instincts were born of one death.
Zame let rage consume him—turning his pain into a storm that would never calm.
Duma ran, sprinting into the horizon as if distance could outpace memory.
Kongu sought strength—the kind that could hold back death itself.
Waraabe found salvation in laughter, hiding agony behind a grin that would never fade again.
Gaja forgave the world that failed them, carrying peace where others saw only ruin.
Varga hunted truth, swearing that he would find out who did it.
Falko chose silence—closed his heart to all, he will never experience that again.
No one spoke again.
And that night, the Pack of eight was no more.
© 2025 Moku. All rights reserved.
Apexes: Legacy of the Pack is an original work by Moku. Unauthorized reproduction or distribution is prohibited.