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Fallen Zhaaluuns

@bexxi 
I'm sorry you didn't get your kill D:

Drekkal’Vaarn - The Blood-Sky Swarm
It begins with a sound. Not thunder. Not wind. But a hum. A vibration felt in the bones. A swarm descends - Tracker Jackers.
Engineered wasp-like creatures with stingers long enough to pierce bone and toxins strong enough to bend the mind.

As the swarms cover the arena, the inevitable happens - groups get split up, unable to see each other through the thick of insects.
Shouting for each other is too risky, swallowing these is fatal.

Toraix throws himself beneath a fractured panel of metal, covering his face with mud. He waits. 

Sadbread leaps into a ravine and presses close to the rock wall. A few stings burn across their shoulder, but they grit their teeth and stay still.

In the open, The Boopiter runs. It stumbles. The tracker jackers catch up. One sting. Then another. Then ten more.

Feminem turns to flee, but The Mercurii grabs her by the arm. She gasps - too late. With a violent twist, The Mercurii throws her to the ground, leaving her exposed. The swarm doesn’t hesitate.

Cynamity dives into an abandoned cargo crate and seals the hatch.

Suchomimos submerges himself in a stagnant waterhole, eyes just above the surface.

Glade finds an old fuel tarp and wraps herself in it, crawling under debris as the swarm passes overhead. She holds her breath.

The Venling disappears into the canyon shadows.

Fallen Zhaaluuns

@feminem 

Night 5 of the Drekkal’Zuun
The swarm is gone. But the silence it leaves behind is worse. The dust hangs lower tonight.

Glade moves like a shadow through the dark. She spots movement near a collapsed structure - The Venling.
She doesn’t hesitate. A quiet hiss - the dart flies, piercing its neck. It gasps before falling to the ground.

Not far away, Cynamity sits alone, gently humming to himself.

Toraix strikes flint again and again, sparks flickering then fading. The fire refuses to start.

Suchomimos stares up at the stars. He’s thinking about home.

Sadbread spots the glow of a distant fire. They stay hidden. Wrapped in shadows, wrapped in silence, they think of their friend - The Venling.

The Mercurii sits still and silent. Its eyes are fixed on the dark horizon. It’s not resting.
It's planning, It's thinking about winning.

Drekkal’Kael – The Feast
At dawn, the arena speaks. “The Kor’Zeluun has been replenished.”
Inside the Kor'Zeluun sealed rations, sharp blades, syringes of anti-venom.
And envelopes. One for each remaining tribute.
Each stamped with a familiar name. A familiar hand.
Memoirs.
Letters from home.

Suchomimos sees the signal. Hears the chime. But he doesn’t go.

Toraix watches from a rock ridge. He grips his weapon but never moves. He doesn’t need memoirs. He remembers everything already. And some things are better left forgotten.

Sadbread stares long and hard at the glowing beacon in the sky. They turn away. Whatever’s waiting… it’s not theirs to claim.

Cynamity makes it. He weaves through the crates. All he cares for are the memoirs. He finds Glade’s envelope, not realizing to whom it belongs. He takes it. He never opens it. But he takes it.

Glade arrives just seconds later, too late. She finds her name, torn envelope and all, scattered on the ground.

The Mercurii makes it to the edge of the Kor'Zeluun. It doesn’t notice the frozen lake beneath the dust.
One step. Then another. The ice cracks.