The morning sun filtered gently through the canopy, painting the forest in soft golds and greens. Dappled light danced across the forest floor as leaves swayed in the gentle breeze, creating an ever-shifting mosaic of shadow and warmth. A cool breeze rustled the treetops, carrying with it the scent of pine sap and wildflowers blooming in distant clearings. The air itself seemed to hum with life—birds calling to one another from hidden perches, the distant chatter of squirrels, the soft whisper of wind through branches.
Neil watched silently as the group of elves broke camp and prepared for the day's travel. Their movements were fluid, practiced—each gesture economical and purposeful. Elven packs were light, minimalist—crafted for agility, not endurance. Every item had been carefully chosen for necessity and weight. Spears were strapped to backs with leather bindings that wouldn't creak or catch on branches. Bows were secured across shoulders in oiled wrappings that protected them from moisture. Simple provisions—dried fruits, pressed cakes of nuts and seeds, waterskins of treated leather—were tied in satchels made from woven plant fibers that seemed to shift color with the light.
Neil adjusted the broken sword strapped across his back. The familiar weight had become almost comforting over the weeks of travel. It felt almost ornamental now; he hadn't needed to draw it in weeks. With his fists and his Core, the blade was mostly a reminder now. A talisman of the path he had walked, of the person he'd been when he first stumbled into this world bloodied and desperate. His enchanted boots—still perfectly fitted to his feet despite all the miles—gripped the uneven earth as he fell into line behind Elara and the rest.
Elara moved with the fluid grace that marked all her kind, but Neil had learned to read the subtle tensions in her posture. Today she seemed more relaxed than usual, her shoulders loose, her step lighter. The past few days of peaceful travel had eased some of the wariness she'd carried since they first encountered him. She even nodded to him as he took his place in the traveling formation—a small gesture, but one that wouldn't have happened a week ago.
They traveled at a modest pace—just a shade faster than an average human walk, but one that could be maintained for hours without strain. To Neil, it was agonizingly slow. He could feel the restless energy building in his Core, the urge to push forward, to run. He knew he could cover five times the distance on his own, could reach their destination in a fraction of the time. His enhanced body practically vibrated with suppressed power.
But he didn't break away.
He had traveled alone for too long. Those weeks of solitary movement through hostile wilderness had worn at him in ways he was only now beginning to understand. The constant vigilance, the endless silence broken only by his own breathing and footsteps, the weight of every decision falling solely on his shoulders—it had been slowly hollowing him out.
Now, walking among others, he found a kind of uneasy peace. The soft conversation of the elves around him, the shared rhythm of their movement, the simple knowledge that he wasn't the only one watching for threats—it grounded него in ways he hadn't expected. Even if they didn't quite trust him yet, even if they didn't yet consider him one of their own, their presence made him remember he was still human. Still capable of connection, of belonging to something larger than himself.
Kael, one of the younger elves, had begun walking closer to Neil over the past day. The elf's curiosity about Neil's world had overcome his initial wariness, and he peppered Neil with questions about human cities, about technology, about the strange realm Neil had come from. Neil found himself looking forward to these conversations, to the wide-eyed wonder in Kael's expression when Neil described things like automobiles or airplanes.
"In your world," Kael was saying now, his voice pitched low to avoid disturbing the forest peace, "you say humans cannot use what you call magic. But they build great flying machines anyway?"
"That's right," Neil replied, matching the elf's quiet tone. "We use engines—devices that burn fuel to create power. We learned to work with the physical laws of our world instead of... whatever laws govern Core energy here."
"Fascinating," Kael murmured. "To think of a world where—"
For three days, they had walked like this. The terrain remained consistent: dense woodland interspersed with occasional clearings where ancient trees had fallen or where streams carved temporary meadows. Massive oaks and towering pines created a green cathedral around them, their branches forming a canopy so thick that only scattered beams of sunlight penetrated to the forest floor. The undergrowth was manageable—clearly game trails were common here, keeping the brush from growing too thick.
No major beasts had appeared. No threats beyond the occasional startled deer or the distant howl of wolves that never came close enough to investigate. The elves had begun to relax, their formation loosening slightly, their conversation flowing more freely.
Until the third afternoon.
---
A tension gripped Neil's senses like a wire pulled taut. He froze mid-step, one foot still raised, his body going rigid with sudden alarm.
Something was coming.
Something powerful.
The feeling hit him like a physical blow—a pressure in his chest, a ringing in his ears. His Core responded instinctively, energy beginning to circulate through his channels as his body prepared for combat. The sensation was similar to what he'd felt when facing other Bone Reinforcers, but magnified. Stronger. More focused.
It moved swiftly through his awareness—not the shambling approach of a ground-based predator, but something direct, unwavering. A straight-line path that ignored the obstacles of terrain. Not along the ground—no beast could move like that across roots and hills, through dense undergrowth and around ancient tree trunks. No. This was from the sky.
"Stop," he hissed, his voice barely audible but carrying an urgency that made several nearby elves pause.
Elara turned, her hand instinctively moving to her spear. "What is it?"
Neil raised his head, scanning the canopy above. The other elves followed his gaze, confusion and growing alarm evident in their expressions.
For a moment, all he saw was sunlight and drifting clouds. The peaceful dance of leaves in the breeze. A hawk circling lazily in the distance.
Then a shadow.
Huge.
At first it was just a darker patch against the sky, easily mistaken for a cloud. But it moved wrong—too purposeful, too fast. As it drew closer, its true size became apparent.
A massive figure darkened the sun as it passed overhead. Its wings spread wider than a city bus, easily sixty feet from tip to tip, slicing through the air with predatory grace. The membrane between the bone struts was dark leather, scarred and weathered. Each wingbeat created a sound like thunder, a deep whomp-whomp that Neil felt in his chest.
Neil's breath caught in his throat.
It wasn't a bird. It was a beast.
The body was feline in form, but scaled up to monstrous proportions. Easily the size of a small airplane, its sleek form was covered in short fur, mottled grey and black in patterns that would blend perfectly with stone and shadow. The head was unmistakably cat-like: pointed ears that swiveled independently, sharp eyes that gleamed with predatory intelligence, jaws full of gleaming teeth each the size of a sword blade. Its tail was long and powerful, tipped with what looked like a cluster of bone spikes.
But it was the energy radiating from the creature that made Neil's Core recoil in recognition.
Bone Reinforcer.
Strong.
Stronger than Elara. Stronger than any beast Neil had faced since arriving in this world.
And its aura burned a deep, furious red. Not the orange-red of anger or aggression, but something deeper. The crimson of spilled blood. Of death.
The elves below couldn't sense it. Couldn't feel the waves of predatory hunger rolling off the creature like heat from a forge.
They kept walking, only now beginning to notice the shadow passing overhead.
"What is that?" someone whispered.
"Get down!" Neil shouted, but his warning came too late.
---
Neil moved, lunging forward to tackle the nearest elf to the ground, but the words of warning had barely left his throat when the beast struck.
It dove like a meteor, wings tucked tight against its massive body, fore and hind talons extended like the claws of some primordial god. The sound it made—a shriek that was part roar, part scream—shattered the forest peace and sent birds exploding from the trees in panic.
The first flyby hit the group like a bomb.
The creature's claws raked through the formation with surgical precision. Neil watched in horror as Lyrian, the elf who had shared his evening meal just last night, was plucked into the air like a doll. The young elf's scream was high and piercing, cut short as the creature's massive jaws clamped down. The sound of breaking bones was audible even over the creature's roar.
Three more elves went down in that first pass. Miriel, who had been teaching Neil some basic words in the elven tongue, was torn nearly in half by raking claws. Theron, one of their scouts, was simply... gone. Nothing left but a spray of blood across the forest floor.
The creature released Lyrian's broken body, letting it fall like discarded refuse.
Chaos exploded through the group.
Screams of pain and terror. The sound of elves crashing through undergrowth as they fled in every direction. Elara's voice rising above the panic, shouting commands, trying to rally them, but she too had been caught completely off guard.
"Shields up! Spears ready! Don't run alone—stay together!"
But training could only do so much against primal terror. Half the group scattered into the woods like startled deer.
Neil surged forward, Core energy roaring to life inside him like a furnace suddenly fed fresh fuel. Power flowed through his channels, strengthening his muscles, sharpening his senses. The world took on that crystalline clarity that came with full Core engagement.
He had to reach the beast. Had to draw its attention away from the elves.
But the creature was already turning for another pass.
---
The second flyby came before Neil could close even half the distance.
The beast turned sharply in the air, wings tilting like the sails of some nightmare ship, and struck again with the same devastating precision. It had clearly done this before—hunted groups, perfected its technique.
Two more elves fell, their bodies torn and flung aside like broken dolls. One of them was Seren, the medic who had tended to Elara's wounds when he first joined the group. She managed a single scream before talons the size of daggers silenced her forever.
Neil cursed, pushing his body harder. His boots found purchase on a fallen log and he leaped, covering twenty feet in a single bound. He could feel his Core burning through energy reserves, but he didn't care.
The creature was already climbing for another attack.
Neil's enhanced vision tracked its movement, analyzing its flight pattern. It favored a steep dive, pulling up at the last moment to maximize the impact of its claws while maintaining speed for escape. Smart. Efficient.
Deadly.
"Elara!" he shouted. "Get them into the trees! Dense cover!"
The elf commander looked up from where she was trying to organize the survivors. Her face was pale with shock, but her voice remained steady. "You heard him! Deep forest—now!"
---
The third flyby.
This time Neil was closer, close enough to see the intelligence in the beast's yellow eyes as it selected its targets. It seemed to favor the slower elves, the ones who couldn't reach cover fast enough.
Three more victims.
Aerin, who had been walking beside Neil just minutes ago, discussing the differences between elven and human archery techniques. Gone.
Valeth, whose laughter had been a constant presence around their evening fires. Silent forever.
Caelen, barely more than a youth, who had looked up to Neil with something approaching hero worship. Broken.
The beast landed briefly after this pass, its massive claws scoring deep furrows in the earth. For a moment it stood there, sides heaving, massive head turning as it surveyed the carnage. Its muzzle was stained red.
Neil was close now. Very close.
He could see the individual scars crisscrossing the creature's hide, the way its ears swiveled to track the sound of fleeing elves, the predatory satisfaction in its alien gaze.
The beast's head turned toward him, and for a moment their eyes met.
Recognition flickered in those yellow depths. It knew what he was. Knew he was a threat.
Good.
---
The fourth attack came differently.
Instead of taking to the air, the beast simply charged. Its massive body moved with shocking speed for something so large, paws the size of shields pounding craters in the forest floor.
But Neil was ready.
He launched himself forward with a blast of Core energy that shattered the ground beneath his feet. Trees shook. Birds scattered. The air itself seemed to part before him.
He met the beast head-on.
The collision was like two avalanches meeting. The sound echoed through the forest like thunder.
Neil's fist, backed by every ounce of Core energy he could channel, slammed into the creature's shoulder. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through both their bodies. The beast's charge was stopped dead, its massive frame actually sliding backward across the forest floor.
But it recovered quickly. Too quickly.
Claws the length of swords raked across Neil's chest and shoulder, tearing through his clothing and into the flesh beneath. Pain exploded through his nervous system—not just the physical agony of torn muscle and skin, but something deeper. Something that made his Core recoil.
Poison.
The claws were venomous.
He screamed, partly from pain and partly from fury, and drove his fist into the beast's jaw with everything he had. The crack of impact was audible even over the creature's roar of pain and rage.
The beast staggered but remained standing. Blood seeped from its muzzle where Neil's punch had split the skin, but its eyes blazed with undiminished fury.
They grappled, rolling across the forest floor in a tangle of limbs and claws. Trees cracked and fell around them. The beast's rear claws raked at Neil's sides while he pounded his fists into its ribs, each impact sending tremors through the massive frame.
Then the beast spread its wings.
With a powerful downbeat that flattened the undergrowth in a thirty-foot radius, it launched itself into the air.
Neil, still locked in its grip, was dragged along.
Up they rose.
Ten meters above the forest floor, the treetops rushing past below.
Twenty meters, the canopy falling away beneath them.
Thirty meters, individual trees becoming indistinct patches of green.
The beast's claws were wrapped around Neil's torso, piercing his sides, the poison from its talons spreading fire through his veins. But he continued to fight, continued to strike. Each punch sent tremors through the creature's body, and he could feel bones cracking under the impacts.
Fifty meters now, the forest becoming a carpet far below.
Neil's lungs burned in the thin air. The wind was a constant roar in his ears. But he gathered himself, focused every remaining drop of energy he possessed, and prepared for one final strike.
The beast seemed to sense his intention. It opened its jaws, revealing rows of teeth like ivory daggers, and bit down on Neil's shoulder.
The pain was indescribable. Not just the physical trauma of fangs punching through muscle and scraping bone, but the flood of venom that followed. Neil felt his Core energy faltering, his strength beginning to ebb.
But he didn't stop fighting.
He couldn't stop.
---
They passed the treetops, soaring high above the forest canopy. The world spread out below them like a living map—the green expanse of woodland stretching to the horizon, broken by the silver threads of rivers and the brown patches of distant clearings.
Higher still they climbed, passing through scattered clouds that left them both damp and chilled. Neil had never been this high before, never seen the world from such a perspective. It was beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.
His lungs burned with each breath. The air was thin, cold, almost impossible to breathe. But somehow he managed, drawing on reserves of endurance he didn't know he possessed.
The beast was struggling too. Its wingbeats were becoming labored, its grip on Neil loosening slightly. The poison in its claws was affecting it as well—whatever venom it produced was clearly meant for quick kills, not extended combat.
But it held on, driven by the same fury that had brought it here in the first place.
Neil pulled his fist back, ignoring the agony in his shoulder, the fire in his veins, the burning in his lungs. He gathered everything—every scrap of Core energy, every ounce of determination, every bit of rage at the senseless slaughter he had witnessed.
All his strength. All his will. All his desperate need to end this.
He struck.
The impact was like a lightning bolt. His fist connected with the side of the beast's skull with such force that the air around them seemed to explode. The shockwave was visible, rippling outward in concentric circles.
The beast's skull cracked. Not just surface damage, but deep fractures that ran from the point of impact all the way to its jaw. Its eyes rolled back, showing white. Its wings spasmed once, then went limp.
Dead.
Instantly and completely dead.
---
But Neil was still tangled in its limbs, still wrapped in the embrace of claws that death had not yet released.
And they were still rising from the momentum of that final wingbeat.
For a moment they hung suspended in the sky, defying gravity through sheer velocity. Neil could see for miles in every direction—forests and hills and distant mountains painted in shades of green and brown and purple.
Then physics reasserted itself.
They began to fall.
Air rushed past them with increasing violence. The wind screamed in Neil's ears, tearing at his clothes, his hair, his very breath. Below them, the earth grew larger with terrifying speed—what had been a distant carpet of green resolved into individual trees, then branches, then leaves.
Too high.
Much, much too high.
Neil's enhanced constitution might let him survive impacts that would kill a normal human, but this... this was beyond even his limits. They had to be at least a thousand feet up, maybe more. No amount of Core reinforcement would let him walk away from this fall.
Unless he could think of something.
Unless he could do something impossible.
The beast's body was still wrapped around him, its massive bulk easily ten times his own weight. Dead weight now, but still...
Could he use it?
Could he somehow position himself so that the creature's body would absorb most of the impact?
The sky spun around them as they tumbled through the air. The ground rushed closer with each passing second. Neil could see the forest clearing where the attack had begun, could make out tiny figures—elves who had survived, watching their fall with horror and fascination.
He worked frantically, using the last of his strength to position himself above the beast's body, to wrap his arms around its neck so he wouldn't be thrown clear. The creature's fur was soft under his hands, still warm despite its death.
Their fast descent towards the ground.
The incoming death looming.
Neil has to come up with something.