The giant, indigo flytraps snapped their mouths in search of their next meal. The silky hairs around their jaws stood at attention for any careless prey, and the sharp blades in the middle glistened—ready to support the wicked embrace of the awaiting lobes. Thousands of strong stems had formed a grim passage that ran through the whole expanse, consisting of many other carnivorous plants and lifeforms. The flytraps, with their hissing and almost rhythmic snapping, seemed to be communicating with each other, which couldn’t be too far from the truth, considering that these were organisms that possessed their own unique form of intelligence.


    The way they had carved their path and divided the greenery into equal regions spoke of a foreign hand of interference in their act of terraforming. The essence of their disposition was the end result of the long-standing attempts and experiences of the local residents to obtain the living roots of such plants. And when they had discovered how to breed the flytraps in a way that emulated, say, a road system similar to that of modern, complex cities on other planets, the problem of transportation was solved. The only real drawback to the makeshift road junctions was that these plants needed food to function and therefore maintain order on the planet.


    The issue hadn’t persisted for long, like many others before, and soon enough, hunting groups had been formed. Their only objective was to find insects that were large enough to be swallowed by the plants, as their great numbers prevented them from feeding on their own. Ambitions within ambitions. Instead of patching potholes or repaving roads, this was their way of keeping the planet moving. Standard modes of transportation were not possible on Xal’ Zhaen. The harsh conditions and the constantly changing climate did not allow any construction activities to be undertaken. The Xaleans had to use the natural resources of the planet, and build an infrastructure that would protect them from those same resources—a stage of never-ending limbo. On top of all the difficulties, they had to also battle with tireless predators and the cherry on top— the High State.


    At first, when the tyrants made contact with the Xaleans, they had come to the planet with intentions to negotiate a transactional pact. Of course, the threatening undertones of the High State had been ever present in the discussion, and the Xal’ Zhaen natives had quickly realized that they would have to accept whatever conditions were set—a tale old as time.


    The promise of the High State diplomats had been their unwavering protection of the populace in exchange for half of the planet’s monthly accumulated zens, and special shipments of the specific vines which grew in the deep jungle, used to sew and to craft the highest quality clothes and armor in the galaxy. This put absolute strain on the already difficult lives of the Xaleans, and every day had turned into a constant struggle for survival, without any hope for a better future.


    After the initial agreement had been reached, the High State had sent a couple of their battleships, full of their most capable men. The first couple of weeks had been pretty uneventful, and the soldiers of the High State had gotten used to the frequent, drastic changes in the climate. The relationship, despite the injustice towards the Xaleans, had been going well until the predators had made themselves known.


    Naturally, the encounters with the wild beasts had proven to be disastrous for the High State, for the simple reason that they lacked the necessary attributes with which to confront them. Unlike humans, the eyes of the Xaleans, those huge shiny orbs, were adapted to deal with the threat posed by those predators. The overgrown sabretooths, which moved in large packs only during the night, possessed the ability to manipulate their own shadows and it was impossible to detect for anyone other than a Xalean. Despite the soldiers’ ultimate modifications, their weapons had fallen powerless against the ancient animals’ mind-whirling play of shadows, resulting in a series of brutal killings.


    The High State had not liked the loss of so many personnel, and they had blamed the locals before retracting their stream of protection from the planet completely, leaving the Xaleans to fend for themselves. As expected, the reparations had not been lifted, and Xal’ Zhaen had been threatened with an outright war at the first attempt at protest. The natives hadn’t lived during the Great Harb, but knew the consequences a potential conflict could bring. They were stuck serving a system that gave nothing in return and in a dreadful cycle of life— hunting by day and being hunted at night.


    Presently, Hermann, Manny for short, stood hidden in a large, overgrown bush, located east of the Great Expanse and in close proximity to the First Flytrap Junction—a historic monument on Xal’ Zhaen. It had cost an enormous amount of effort to create and was connected to all roads, except for a few. Some of the older Xaleans called and knew it as the Highway of Life.


    Manny’s eyes, large and shiny, scanned the surroundings through the subtle openings of twigs and leaves. He tapped his earbud once and clicked with his tongue before whispering, “We have not yet detected any lifeforms near the area. The wind is strong from the north side.”


    “I suggest we wait a little longer then get out of here… it’s getting late,” a young voice spoke in Manny’s ear.


    “Go if you want. I’m not leaving until I catch one of those damn insects,” a raspy, older voice said. It belonged to an elder of the group.


    Manny hopped onto another branch and resumed his position, listening for the familiar sound of their prey— nothing.


    “What? You’re gonna stay here and risk being torn apart by predators, that it?” the young voice asked; it had taken a lot of courage to pose the question.


    “I don’t think I have to answer to a newbie like you,” the elder said. “And shouldn’t you—”


    “Shut up. I heard something,” Manny warned.


    He looked up and saw the belly of a wiry fly as it roamed above them. Its webbed, transparent wings cast a looping shadow over the stealthy Xaleans, and its whirling swings ruffled the leaves of the trees around them. Manny tapped his earbud once more, then clicked three times with his tongue before whistling in a frequency so low that it could be caught only by the acute hearing of a Xalean.


    With that little gesture, he had warned the others to assume their positions at the end of their assigned ropes, which were all bound to the masterfully concealed web trap lying in the middle. It was strewn with piles of leaves, branches, and small bushes, and most importantly, a slimy soup containing all sorts of small insects— the perfect bait for a starving fly.


    The large insect paused midair and noticed the scattered dead bugs on the ground. It seemed to look around for potential observers, then flew most calmly to the hidden trap. The Xaleans knew that it wouldn’t just land there, and they began pulling the ropes back and forth. By shaking the mush of insects, they had spilled on the trap, they made the smell of fresh food reach the awaiting fly faster, and it landed down smoothly, soon after.


    The white-furred natives had carried out the first step of the plan, and now it was all a matter of time and patience. They had to wait until the insect had eaten its first bug before they could tighten the ropes all the way, and close the trap around it. The reason being that they didn’t want the fly to suspect anything, so they could strike it down during its second bite.


    It gulped down a caterpillar the size of an adult human and stepped forward, looking for another bite. The fly took a liking to a black bug, encased in a dull, bony shell and bit it, chomping in delight.


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    “Now!” Manny shouted, watching everything from his place in the wild bush.


    In a sudden, joined movement, the Xaleans tightened the thick ropes, and the trap sprang into action. The insect tried to launch itself upward, but the lightning-fast blades of the trap pinned it down and forced their way through the fly’s hideous body, killing it on the spot with the bug still thrashing around in its mouth.


    The entire hunting party roared in happiness and leaped from the trees and bushes, gathering around their prey. Some embraced each other and others jumped around, pleased with the completion of their plan. The capture of such significant prey meant that the flytrap junctions would be operational for months to come, and the party would finally be able to rest from all the hard work they had done.


    Manny went down to his companions and examined the dead fly. How lucky we are, he thought.


    “Hermann, nice job with the coordinating,” the elder approached. His fur was gray with age, and his eyes didn’t seem to shine as brightly as those of the younger ones.


    “Thanks, Dietrich,” Manny said. “I’m just glad to keep the roads running.”


    “I didn’t expect that we’d catch something this big… we’ve earned our break,” Dietrich said, relieved that it was over.


    “Think we’ll be able to get home on time?” Manny asked, inching closer to one of the wings of the fly.


    “Looks like we’ll have to set up camp here,” Dietrich said. “I hope we have the same luck as we did with the fly…”


    The wooden planks cracked under the heat of the campfire, and one of the hunters kept feeding it whatever he could find. The party had to illuminate as large an area as possible in order to have good visibility. The same visibility that was enhanced by their eyes, keeping them thriving as a nation. During the nights on Xal’ Zhaen, light was the most valuable currency, and they made sure to have plenty of it.


    They had gathered near the campfire around the web trap and spoke in hushed tones. Dots of warm fires took shape all over the green land to form a network of improvised lights. The group had split into three so they could cover as much ground as possible, ready for a potential attack.


    “… And how do you plan to transport this big boy to the Expanse?” One of the Xaleans gathered around the fire asked. He was called Ear for he had a half-bitten ear.


    “Like we always have,” Mitch said, seeming to argue with everybody. “You ask as if we’ve never dealt with a big fly before.”


    “What’s your fucking problem?” Ear asked, irritated.


    “We can’t keep living like this, you know…” Mitch said, peering into the fire.


    “Living like what?”


    “Like some goddamned slaves, that’s what!” Mitch thundered, lifting his gaze and seeing the illuminated faces of his people.


    “Yeah? What do you intend for us to do, oh Holy Savior?” Ear laughed, chucking a branch into the fire.


    “The prospect’s right,” Dietrich joined. “We all know he is. The question is not what we can do, but how long we can wait… We have to show patience, and… and find a trustworthy ally to fight off the High State.” He paused. “Until then, we’ll live like goddamned slaves if we have to!”


    “A difficult task, but I think it’s possible,” Manny added.


    “And who would trust you with that traitor brother of yours?” Mitch asked.


    Before Mitch could tell what was happening, Manny stood up from his spot on the far side of the camp and flew through the fire to grab him by the neck. Mitch tried to push him away, but Manny pulled back and tripped him with his foot, sweeping him to the ground with one blow. The prospect raised his head instinctively and was met by Manny’s monstrous claws.


    Everyone around them had frozen, and no one dared to step between them to interfere. They knew perfectly well what Manny was capable of when someone made him angry. He didn’t need any weapons to take a life in a heartbeat. Although late, Mitch had also realized this from Manny’s cold gaze that was now piercing its way into his soul.


    “If you ever question my loyalty again, I will not hesitate to slit your throat,” Manny warned, then retreated to his seat.


    “Uh, lads, aren’t there six of us here?” Ear asked after the silence that arose from the quarrel.


    “Yes, why?” Dietrich rasped, scornful.


    “There’s a shadow in excess…“


    “Run!” Manny shouted, and his voice echoed throughout the entire perimeter.


    The seventh shadow suddenly expanded and took the form of a large cat. The exhausted Xaleans spread out at the last moment, and the fire they had worked so hard to build was extinguished by the beast’s imposing figure. It landed with a heavy bang and looked from inside infrared eyes; clouds of smoke rolled around.


    Ultimately, the ambush they had hoped would not come had befallen them in that moment of unpreparedness. Manny had lost sight of his companions and had hurried to hide in one of the bushes just above the valley overlooking the dead fly. He hoped, at least, that the sabretooth wouldn’t eat their prey— it would set them back for months. He tapped his receiver and heard the rapid breathing and shouts of his friends.


    “Put the fires out and run for the valley!” A new voice on the line called out. “Damn the fly!”


    Manny had hidden himself because he knew that, without a weapon, there was nothing he could do against the sabretooth. He was not one to shy away from a good hunt, but facing such a predator without the proper equipment was pure suicide. He preferred to live.


    “Oh, shit! I think it got Ear!” someone shouted.


    “Nah, that was Steve!” Ear shot back, and the unexpected growl of the animal in the background made Manny tremble.


    “We need help!” Mitch said. “We’re stuck on the tree behind the trap! Dietrich’s hurt!”


    “Hang tight! I’m coming!” Manny said.


    Never in his life had Manny covered such a considerable distance in such a short time. Upon hearing that the life of one of his oldest and most trusted friends was at stake, he had not hesitated to spring out of the bush and run towards them. At that moment, nothing could stop him. His face was cut in several places, and a sharp branch had almost taken out his eye.


    Manny reached the tree and noticed the animal’s tail swinging like a hairy whip. He crouched down so he could see what was happening. Mitch and Dietrich had managed to climb to the top of the tree and were watching as the sabretooth slashed at the base with its deadly claws. The whole tree shook, and the thinner branches fell around it. Manny had to act quickly and buy the trapped duo some time. Dietrich was bleeding.


    Without waiting any longer, Manny got behind the sabretooth, waiting for the right moment to latch onto its tail. The animal let out a wail and twisted, trying to break free from Manny’s painful grasp. He had dug his claws as deep as possible into the predator’s skin and when he was sure he wouldn’t fall easily, he bit down as well, teeth sinking into flesh.


    “Move out! Go!” Manny half-mumbled, half-shouted.


    Mitch lifted Dietrich onto his back with a heavy grunt and descended the thick branches, careful where he placed his weight as he jumped down. The two of them took one last look at Manny, who was swinging wildly in the air, glued to the animal’s tail, and they ran to the valley.


    Manny was left alone against the enemy, his jaw tired from the continual clenching. He relaxed his bite, and in that moment of weakness, the animal’s tail knocked him to the ground. Manny hurried to his feet but was stopped by the sabretooth’s paw. Infrared moons met bold, shining orbs and Manny didn’t blink for a second. He felt no fear, but pride in himself. He was grateful that he had gotten the opportunity to save two Xalean brothers, and he smiled in the face of death…


    It never came. Manny had closed his eyes, waiting to be swallowed and torn apart by the sabretooth’s strong jaws, remembering the rarer, good times in life. He heard a loud thundering and the ground shook under him. Manny opened his eyes to see the animal slump to the ground with a large hole in the middle of its head— someone or something had shot it.


    The world around him had become bright again, and his ears caught the sound of an almost sexual breathing. It was as if he had been put in a cave and the drops from the walls were falling right into his brain, then pooling into a pond of hushing. A long, armored hand reached out to him from the newly formed light, and Manny grabbed it to save himself…


    “Yes! That’s exactly how it happened!” Manny said, leaning on the leather sofa in Sav’s apartment in Kybernan. Manny had asked the young fighter to meet so he could tell him more about his vision.


    “So, you’re telling me that I was the one who saved you from this… sabretooth?” Sav asked.


    “Yes! I don’t think it’s a coincidence at all! You know, when—”


    “You sure it wasn’t just a trip? We saw what happened at The Goblet,” Sav said, sitting across from Manny. The window behind him was ajar and the cold, morning breeze crept in.


    “I mean, it was a hallucination but… they’ve never felt so real before…” Manny said, thoughtful.


    “Come on, Manny,” Sav sighed. “You’re not gonna give me that prophecy bullshit, are you?”


    “No, no…” Manny waved. “I interpret it differently.”


    “How exactly?” Sav asked, leaning forward.


    “You remember what I told you about finding a trustworthy ally?” Manny asked.


    “Go on…”


    “I think that it’s you,” Manny hesitated, but Sav knew the Xalean believed what he was saying.


    “… And how do you expect me to help an entire nation by myself?” Sav asked.


    “I don’t know, Sav, but I can tell you one thing,” Manny said. “If you decide to take action against the High State, know that the Xaleans will have your back.”