Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves like delicate silk threads, casting dappled patterns across the ground, a breathtaking tapestry embroidered by nature itself.
On the pale green grass, there was an incongruous depression. It was likely a "terrain modification" accidentally left behind by Carlo when the rain-soaked soil was soft. The hollow had collected a fair amount of rainwater, and small, nameless creatures clung to its edges, savoring the morning dew.
Crunch crunch crunch…
A series of steady footsteps crunching the leaves approached, sending the small animals scurrying in all directions.
Splash!
Dewy water sprayed as a thick, sturdy foot planted itself in the center of the pool. Though significantly smaller than the depression itself, this newcomer was still a titan to the local fauna.
A row of irregular, pentagonal plates, ranging in size, emerged above the bushes. They swayed rhythmically as they moved forward, alternating between brilliant sunlight and deep shadow. A tail armed with several blunted osteoderms, spikes, swung from side to side, navigating the gaps between the trees. These massive spikes were covered in countless scratches, and the tip of the tail bore scars that would never quite heal; it was a weapon of undeniable power.
Rustle rustle…
Stegosaurus bro came to a halt. His relatively small head poked out from the brush, surveying the open space ahead.
Hard-packed dirt roads bisected massive green plots of land, mostly square, with a few circular agricultural zones. The multi-harvest crops had already been reaped once in August; now, only partially grown wheat and sprawling orchards remained.
However, Stegosaurus bro cared little for the greenery. His eyes were fixed on the far side of the asphalt road.
There was a wide, flowing river.
Just as I thought...
Stegosaurus bro broke into a light, shuffling trot, his body swaying with a visible sense of joy.
Now... you might have heard that a Stegosaurus has a brain the size of a walnut. Whether or not that's true, in Stegosaurus bro's limited worldview, the logic was simple: Carlo = Lives by the lake. Finding Carlo = Finding water.
Back in the Primeval Ecological Zone, Stegosaurus bro had never strayed far from the lakeside. Earlier, during his time in the Stegosaurus Enclosure, he hadn't learned the survival skill of tracking water for various specific reasons. Thus, his only strategy now was to follow Carlo's trail and seek the scent of the source.
Before long, Stegosaurus bro stepped onto the dirt path between the fields. His massive bulk almost blocked the entire road as he ambled toward the river. In the fields, the immature wheat swayed in the breeze, sending a faint, earthy aroma into the air.
Stegosaurus bro noticed these strange plants and felt a momentary urge to try them, but as the scent of the wheat filled his mind, he reconsidered. He didn't seem to have a taste for sweet-smelling flora.
His feet grated against the earth, and a stray pebble, kicked by his inadvertent power, went flying into the wheat field. Nearby, a local farmer who had spent his whole life tilling this land looked toward the noise. He froze instantly, eyes bulging as if he'd just seen his crops grow legs and run away.
Perhaps because the mosquitoes were too thick, Stegosaurus bro chose that moment to lash his tail. A sudden gust of wind swept outward, and the sight of those massive spikes cutting through the air was like a death sentence to the heart. If someone were actually hit by that... a "bruise" would be the least of their worries.
Gurgle, gurgle...
Letting out a contented sound, Stegosaurus bro lowered his head and drank greedily, looking for all the world like he intended to "drink himself to death" right then and there.
After a long while, he finally lifted his head. He looked at the endless asphalt road, then back at the water.
Should I keep following? There's plenty of water here...
Growl…
Stegosaurus bro hadn't eaten in quite some time. Now that he was hydrated, his stomach let out a mournful, dissatisfied groan. After hesitating for a long moment, he crossed the sparsely traveled asphalt road once more and approached the wheat field.
He stiffly tore off a few stalks, chewed them with effort, and swallowed. Almost immediately, he felt an indescribable, scratchy sensation, like a hard, foreign object, sliding down his throat.
Stegosaurus bro quickly trotted back to the river, lowered his head to soothe his throat with water, and waited a beat before looking back at the road.
I want berries...
Compared to leaves, Stegosaurus bro vastly preferred berries – sweet ones, bitter ones, sour... actually, never mind the sour ones. He looked at a nearby fruit tree, and his tail began to sway instinctively, as if reminding him that he was still in his prime.
Standing on the empty road, Stegosaurus bro took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and slightly raised his tail, curling it to the left and tucking it as close to his body as possible.
Whoosh!
In the next instant, the sound of air being torn apart echoed through the clearing! Driven by the momentum of his own tail, Stegosaurus bro spun his body nearly 270°, his tail leaving a blurred afterimage in the air. Perhaps this strike wasn't enough to snap the fruit tree in half, but for Stegosaurus bro...
It was just a simple practice swing.
Opening his eyes, he took one last look at the orchard and the green lawn. Then, without a hint of nostalgia, he turned away and continued following the asphalt road and the river.
He would not destroy the forest again.
The sun climbed higher, bringing a pleasant warmth. A few cars passed by, their occupants staring in slack-jawed shock. Stegosaurus bro just kept walking, slow and steady, as he always did.
…
Kafka woke from her slumber and glanced around, but Carlo was nowhere to be seen. The other two Gigas and Giga Dad were still sound asleep; the past few days had been grueling, and their "short nap" had inadvertently turned into a full night's rest.
Wait, has the Boss slept at all?
Kafka stood up, thinking of heading to the lake to wet her parched throat.
Whirr—Whirr—
The sound of helicopter rotors reached her ears. Instinctively, Kafka dropped low, eyeing the sky with wariness as she slowly backed into the deeper shadows.
"No sign of him at Yellowstone Lake. Over."
"Squad Four reports an anomaly. Requesting backup."
The helicopter circled above for a moment before banking sharply and heading off in one direction.
The thing in the sky feels dangerous... I have to warn the Boss.
Kafka was about to let out a call when a tail pressed down on her with immense force, pinning her back to the ground.
Surprised, she looked to her side. She hadn't even realized Carlo had returned. He was crouched low to the earth, a wild boar clamped in his jaws, looking up at the sky with the same guarded expression.
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