Saul suddenly slowed.
Pluto almost ran into him before catching himself. For a moment he thought another predator had appeared, one that could bring this man to stillness, but Saul simply stood there, looking toward the distant canopy where the forest thickened into a towering cluster of ancient trees.
The direction made Pluto's stomach tighten. He knew it more than he had wished to.
"You're not serious," Pluto said slowly.
Saul did not immediately respond.
That alone was enough confirmation.
Pluto exhaled sharply and frustratedly.
"I know I'm usually the one on the receiving end of criticism," he muttered, rubbing his temple, "but even I know you're making a terrible decision."
Saul finally turned his head slightly, almost aloof.
His expression wasn't defensive. If anything, it carried the same faint skepticism Pluto himself felt.
"I know," Saul said quietly.
That answer only made Pluto more irritated.
"You know?" Pluto repeated. "You know it's a bad idea and you're doing it anyway?"
He would have put his words in more insulting terms, save for his fear of this overgrown teen.
Saul shrugged faintly.
"I want information."
Pluto stared at him for a moment, processing thought that hadn't come.
Then he sighed.
Of course.
Saul was the kind of person who would walk into a potential trap just to answer a question.
"The owl is suspicious," Pluto continued. "It knows too much, appears where it shouldn't, and conveniently gives answers when people ask the right questions. That alone should tell you something."
Saul nodded quickly, slightly condescending.
"I agree."
"And you still want to go back."
"Yes."
Pluto looked up at the sky as if begging some unseen force for patience. Or a little thunder strike upon a person, who's name was better not said.
"Unbelievable."
Saul spoke again before Pluto could continue.
"I won't approach it directly," he said calmly. "I'll keep distance. Both verbally and physically."
Pluto looked back at him.
There was no stubborn arrogance in Saul's voice.
Just quiet certainty.
Which somehow made it worse. Such conviction always did.
After a few seconds of silence, Pluto sighed again.
"Well," he muttered, "since you clearly aren't going to change your mind… I guess I don't have much of a choice."
Saul began walking again.
Pluto followed reluctantly.
They moved through the forest with practiced efficiency, stepping around roots and broken branches without slowing.
The deeper they went, the thicker the mist became.
It clung to the ground like a living thing.
Rolling.
Breathing.
Watching.
***
But eventually the mist thinned.
Then it stopped entirely.
They had reached the one place in the forest that seemed untouched by it.
The owl's domain. A holy ground.
A massive, ancient tree rose above the others, its bark dark and twisted with age. The air around it felt oddly clear, as if the mist itself refused to approach.
Pluto never liked this place. He preferred the unwashed toilet at his apartment.
Something about it felt… wrong.
Saul stepped forward.
High above them, a large shape shifted among the branches.
Then two golden eyes opened.
The owl stared down at them.
Those eyes were unsettling.
They were the exact same shade as the tiger's. Like they were cut from the same stone.
Bright.
Intelligent.
And far too aware.
The owl tilted its head slightly.
"Why have you returned?" it asked.
Its voice carried calmly through the clearing.
Saul didn't hesitate.
"I want information."
The owl blinked slowly.
"What kind of information?"
Saul met its gaze without fear.
"How many people are still alive before the end of the first trial?"
The owl was silent for a moment.
Then it answered.
"Over one thousand five hundred."
Saul nodded, a little shocked. It was higher than expected.
Without another word, he reached into his pocket and tossed two small objects onto the ground beneath the tree.
Two battle seeds.
They landed softly in the grass.
Then Saul turned and began walking away.
Pluto followed him, though confusion quickly crept onto his face.
He glanced back once at the owl, which had already closed its eyes again.
Then he looked back at Saul.
"Wait," Pluto said.
Saul didn't stop walking.
Pluto quickened his pace to walk beside him.
"Why did you drop two seeds?"
Saul looked at him as if the answer were obvious. It was supposed to be.
"That was our agreement."
Pluto blinked.
"What agreement?"
Saul frowned slightly.
"Two seeds for one piece of knowledge. That's how our encounters have always worked."
Pluto stopped walking.
Saul took two more steps before noticing and stopping as well.
Pluto stared at him.
Then he slowly raised a finger.
"You paid two seed every time."
Saul said nothing.
Pluto continued.
"Every. Single. Time."
The realization hit Saul.
For the first time since Pluto had known him, Saul's expression shifted into something unmistakably human.
Disappointment.
Not anger.
Not outrage.
Just quiet, resigned disappointment. A feature that finally added depth to his piece-of-paper character.
Pluto couldn't help it.
He burst out laughing.
"You got cheated!" Pluto said between breaths.
Saul stared ahead silently.
For a moment he almost looked… offended.
Pluto wiped his eyes.
"I can't believe it. The terrifying genius of destruction himself got scammed by an owl."
Saul exhaled slowly.
"That explains some things."
Pluto chuckled again before calming down.
After a moment he tilted his head.
"Alright, I'm curious," he said. "Why did you even want to know the remaining numbers?"
Saul resumed walking.
"I wanted to plan accordingly."
Pluto waited for more explanation.
None came.
He frowned slightly.
"That's it?"
"Yes."
Pluto studied Saul's back as they walked.
A faint chill ran down his spine.
Because he knew Saul well enough to understand something important.
If Saul was asking about how many people were still alive…
Then whatever plan he was making probably involved that number decreasing. And drastically.
Pluto decided not to ask further.
Sometimes ignorance was safer.
They walked in silence.
But Pluto couldn't stop thinking about it.
And the thought made him uneasy.
***
Mira had barely climbed the small mound when something slammed into her.
She stumbled backward with a startled gasp.
A girl collapsed against her.
The girl looked terrible.
Her clothes were torn.
Mud covered her legs.
Her breathing came in ragged, desperate gasps.
And carved into her skin was a glowing mark.
The second mark.
The girl's eyes were wild with fear.
For a moment she tried to push past Mira, her instincts screaming at her to keep running.
But her body refused to cooperate.
Exhaustion had taken everything she had left, long before she had even started running.
She looked into Mira's eyes.
For a brief moment she hoped to see something reassuring.
Something strong.
Something mature.
Instead she saw the exact same crippling fear reflected back at her.
Then the forest behind them exploded with noise.
Branches snapped.
Growls echoed.
Predators.
Many of them.
"Run!" Mira shouted suddenly.
Without thinking, she grabbed the girl's arm and dragged her over the mound.
A massive beast burst over the ridge behind them barely a second later.
They sprinted into the trees. And the paparazzi of beasts trailed slightly.
"Why are they chasing you?!" Mira yelled as they ran.
The girl struggled to answer between breaths.
"I— I don't—"
Another roar cut her off.
More predators joined the chase.
Mira's heart pounded wildly.
She already knew they couldn't outrun them forever.
Sooner or later the beasts would catch up.
So she prepared.
Her grip tightened around the wooden stick she carried.
The air around it subtly sharpened.
The feeling was strange.
She had just met this girl.
Yet somehow Mira felt an overwhelming urge to protect her.
To fight for her.
To defend her with everything she had. With her life.
It didn't make sense.
Maybe it was some strange ability tied to the marks.
Mira tried to ignore the thought.
Right now survival mattered more.
They continued running.
But secretly, Mira was getting ready to fight.
***
Doeg and his two remaining comrades finally stopped running.
There was nowhere left to go.
Their backs pressed against the enormous trunk of a Sam tree, its thick roots rising from the swampy ground like twisted pillars.
The tiger approached slowly.
Patiently.
Its golden eyes glowed through the mist.
For a moment none of them spoke.
The silence felt heavy.
Sad.
Almost peaceful.
Doeg looked at the two men beside him.
They were exhausted.
Bloody.
But they still stood.
He gave them a small nod.
A silent acknowledgement.
The man on his left suddenly stepped forward.
His body began to swell.
Muscles bulged unnaturally as veins pulsed beneath his skin.
His chest expanded.
His limbs thickened.
He looked like a balloon being inflated from the inside.
Doeg understood immediately.
"Run," the man said.
Doeg frowned.
"You—"
"I'll delay it."
The man's voice remained steady despite the terrifying transformation overtaking his body.
"Just run."
For a moment none of them moved.
Then the man roared and charged forward.
His enlarged body slammed into the tiger with a thunderous boom.
The forest shook.
"GO!" he shouted.
Doeg didn't hesitate.
Neither did the other survivor.
They turned and ran.
Swamp water exploded beneath their feet as they sprinted away.
Behind them the battle raged.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Each impact shook the ground.
Then—
A final sound echoed through the forest.
A long, agonizing wail.
Doeg didn't look back.