Mike woke with a mouthful of grass, his body aching as he pushed himself up from the damp earth. He spit out the green blades and brushed the dirt from his clothes, scrambling to his feet to survey his surroundings. He was in the same glade, a small clearing of rocks and wildflowers ringed by stout, leafy trees and dense shrubbery. His first, hopeful thought was that he had simply passed out from exhaustion or the heat. But a few details shattered that comforting notion, filling him with a cold dread. First, there were two suns in the sky. One was the familiar, golden star of home, though it seemed larger now, its heat more intense. He shook his head, thinking his eyes were playing tricks, but the second sun remained. It was a smaller, piercing aquamarine star that hung close to its larger companion, orbiting it like a strange, celestial moon. The other sight that curdled his blood was the pillar. In the distance, a colossal vortex of crimson energy clawed at the sky, a pillar of light that pulsed with a malevolent, demonic glow. It seemed impossibly far away, yet its presence dominated the horizon. It was the last thing he’d seen before collapsing, and now it was the first thing to greet his waking eyes. A bestial roar ripped through the forest, jolting him from his stupor and back to the terrifying present. “Chloe…” he muttered, a flicker of determination cutting through his confusion. He forced the impossible sights to the back of his mind. If any of this was real, he had to get back to camp. That cold, emotionless voice he’d heard in the darkness had promised to make the wildlife more dangerous, to “improve the challenge.” For all he knew, that roar belonged to a tiger or a bear, and the others were in danger. A spike of fear lanced through him—what if they’d panicked, jumped in the car, and left him for dead? The anxiety was a physical thing, a fire in his gut urging him to move. He didn’t dare wait another second. He broke into a sprint, crashing through the undergrowth in the direction of the camp, ignoring the strange new sounds of the forest and the thorny branches that snagged at his clothes. The world blurred into a green and brown streak as he thundered through the woods like a runaway train. It felt as though he’d been shot full of pure adrenaline; his legs pumped beneath him at a breakneck pace, faster than any Olympian, and on treacherous forest terrain no less. The hatchet he carried, which had felt weighty before, was now as light as a toy. He swung it instinctively, cleaving through impeding branches with an accuracy he didn’t know he possessed. Mike had never felt so strong, so fast. The voice had mentioned upgrading the wildlife. Did his newfound power mean he was now considered part of it? He wasn't sure whether to be grateful for the physical boost or furious that some cosmic entity considered him an animal. After a few minutes of his mad dash, he spotted a familiar landmark: a large boulder split down the middle by a tree that had grown through it. The camp was just a few hundred meters away. He readjusted his grip on the hatchet and veered directly toward the campsite. Suddenly, another of those otherworldly roars echoed through the trees, this time far closer than the ones he’d tuned out during his run. Panic lent his legs a fresh burst of speed. He burst into the clearing, his face a mask of frenzied fear, and was met with the familiar sight of their camp: the gray Range Rover, the camper, and the camping chairs scattered about. But his eyes didn’t linger on the familiar. They locked onto the monster currently rifling through one of their coolers. It was the size of a Great Dane, but there the resemblance ended. The creature was a nightmare of exposed flesh and bone, a grotesque amalgamation of red muscle and white sinew, as if it had been skinned alive. A thick, muscular torso was supported by six stubby legs, each ending in a monstrous paw that looked more like a raptor’s talon than a mammal’s foot. Two pairs of legs were situated at the front of its body, with the third pair at the rear. Each paw bore four ghastly claws, three facing forward and one back, the front set noticeably larger than the others. Its head seemed too large for its body, with a long, broad snout that opened into an impossibly wide maw. It reminded him of a crocodile, if a crocodile had three rows of needle-like teeth. Its eyes were small, beady, and glowed with the same hellish red as the distant vortex. The power of that maw was on full display as it bit through a can of beans, swallowing the crushed metal and its contents without a second thought. The sight froze Mike in his tracks, his mind struggling to process the impossible creature before him. He suddenly wished the roars had belonged to a tiger; that seemed a far more preferable alternative to this monstrosity. Before Mike could move or think, the beast’s head snapped up, its beady red eyes fixing on him. With an enraged roar, it bolted toward him, its speed belying its stocky frame. Shock paralyzed him for a crucial second. He barely had time to take a clumsy step back as it closed the distance, swinging the hatchet in a horizontal arc with all the strength he could muster. His footing was poor, robbing the blow of any real technique, but it still connected with the beast's neck, carving out an ugly gash and knocking the creature aside. It was another jarring reminder of his new, unnatural strength; even a panicked, off-balance swing had contained enough force to throw the massive beast. But the monster’s front paws had already latched onto him. The combined momentum of his strike and its charge sent the claws tearing across his body, gouging deep furrows in his side and left leg. Blood began to pour from the ragged wounds. White-hot agony seared through him, a level of pain he had never imagined. His vision swam in a red haze, threatening to send him to the ground. Any thought of fighting the monster head-on with his new strength evaporated, replaced by an overwhelming, primal urge to escape. He shook his head, trying to clear it, but it did little to quell the searing pain. What the hell do I do? Run? His eyes darted around frantically, searching for any way out as survival instincts he never knew he had took over. The beast had stumbled and fallen from his blow, but it was already scrambling back to its feet. “Guys! Are you here? Help!” he screamed toward the camper, praying for backup. Only silence answered. Had they already fled into the woods? Out of options, Mike hobbled a few steps back toward the forest line, his left leg burning and refusing to obey his commands. But before he could form a plan, the beast was upon him again, its maw open in a snarl, unfazed by the blood now trickling down its flayed torso. This time, Mike was slightly more prepared. Planting his weight on his good right leg, he threw himself sideways. He heard a vicious snarl and felt a rush of displaced air as the creature barreled past the spot where he’d just stood, crashing to the ground in a heap three meters away. As he scrambled back to his feet, he saw the monster slide another twenty meters before it could stop. Mike realized then that the monster possessed incredible speed but terrible maneuverability. A spark of desperate resolve cut through the pain and panic. He abandoned all thought of fleeing and turned, staggering back toward the part of the forest he’d just burst from. “This had better work…” he mumbled, moving as fast as his pain-racked body would allow.

Chapter 3: When Two Suns Burn