In the primitive serenity of the forest, a stone egg slumbered where it had been placed thousands of years before. Many had taken a passing interest, and yet none had ever been able to move it, let alone harm it. For thousands of years, it had calmly slept.

  Without warning or reason, a surge of mana erupted from the egg. It flooded through the whole of the forest with oppressive intent, as if to claim the land as its own. The weak fled in fear. The strong fled in fear. Only one ran towards it, though his instincts begged him otherwise.

  Monga’s blurring figure came to a sudden halt before the stone egg, but he could only stare in shock as this unfamiliar thing which emitted intensity possessed by only a few he had ever faced.

  The egg started to crack mere moments after he arrived. Small fractures spread out one after the other, but it did not seem to spread into the depth of the shell. And something started to beat at the egg from within.

  Trepidation ran through Monga’s body like a chill as he instinctively lowered himself for a fight. But the more he listened to the erratic dull thuds within, the more he couldn’t help but compare it to a child’s tantrum.

  There was a pause, and then a fist broke through the shell, filled with overbearing rage. And the creature inside broke out.

  A small human child, seeming no more than three or four years of age. Copper skin and long, mangy ash-white hair. It crawled on all fours like a beast, with fangs and claws and feral eyes, and wore naught but a brown loincloth. The child saw Monga, and attacked.

  Monga swatted away the child on reflex, sending it crashing through the trees and dirt. Surprise struck him a moment too late, as he found it far weaker than he expected.

  And indeed, as he walked over to the child, it was gravely injured. Dying. The child squirmed with such desperation and ignorant agony that Monga nearly felt sorry for it.

  But its frantic confused expression began to twist into something that resembled resolve. And divinity surged. The large horns of a bull grew from its head as its wounds rapidly healed. And the child lunged once more with eyes pure white.

  Monga raised his hand this time to block the crude punch indifferently, now knowing the strength of it. And the child’s heavy fist battered him away.

  Shock filled Monga once again. This time the child’s strength vastly exceeded his expectations, but more than that, he had felt such inconceivable weight before. It was unmistakably the power of Gugal.

  A thousands questions ran through his mind, but he had no time to think. The child attacked and this time, Monga treated him as a threat.

  Mana swelled through his massive body as he struck the child with his giant palm as hard as he could, though the sheer weight of the boy meant it barely moved a dozen yards.

  The child burst back to strike and Monga held up his forearm. Mana coated his arm like armor and branching streaks reinforced his durability immensely to withstand the impact. The child struck again but hit only air as Monga’s body flickered to its side, with his arm raised back.

  Mana surged through his aura coated arm and his massive fist struck with such force that it sent the child crashing through the forest like a meteor. The child thrashed to its feet, but Monga was already there. And he struck again.

  Cracks spread through the surface of the child’s immeasurably dense flesh, and something changed. Killing intent so overwhelming flooded the land so densely that Monga thought he might drown in it.

  He willed himself through it to strike again, but this time the child dodged. Monga’s eyes widened. It may have been a brutish fight, but he had not taken it lightly. Every time he struck, he concealed his intent well and feinted otherwise. And yet, the child had sensed it.

  The child mauled, not at his center, but his arm. The abominable strength battered his limb hard enough to stagger his footing. And the child lunged in the opening.

  In response, Monga let himself flow with the impact, and swung his arm back around. But the child swung with it. The impact was equal, but what stole Monga’s attention were the wisping mist of flawed aether manipulation around the child’s arm.

  It had copied him.

  From the platform of his arm, it lept closer, and unleashed a ceaseless barrage. With every strike thrown and every strike taken, its aether became firmer. More stable. Stronger.

  The child was improving, gradually and undeniably. It seemed mindless by every measure but it began to learn from its mistakes. It sought to plunder his strength, as if guided by raw instinct, and surpass him.

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  With every failure, the child’s face twisted in frustration and bitter tenacity, until finally, it turned feral. And from feral, it became monstrous.

  The child burst forward dozens of times faster. And Monga could only widened his eyes in shock as the child missed its lunged, unable to control its power. Monga snapped around, just in time to block a mauling swipe. The monumental strength of it cracked his arm and sent him crashing through the forest.

  But he had no time to rest, as the child descended upon him. He spun away as it cratered the ground in one motion, then lunged after him in the next. A high-pitched, droning bellow blared from its young mouth as it relentlessly thrashed after him. Each blow had the potential for death.

  Monga still had no answers to the endless questions surrounding the child, and he no longer had a desire to ask. It was more than a threat. It was something that needed to die.

  Monga raised back his giant palm surging with divinity, and struck with perfect timing. The savage child charged with unparalleled bold brutality and no regard for the lethal palm. But the divinity surrounding the boy suddenly snapped off and dispersed in the wind.

  Monga’s palm swatted only air as the child fell to the ground and crashed through the dirt behind until it rolled to a stop. The horns atop its head crumbled away like ash and its monstrous appearance faded to reveal the look of a normal human.

  Monga walked over slowly with sharp eyes, and raised his fist. It seemed the child’s divinity had run dry, but that was something easily it could easily remedy. Its power remained, and that would always make it a threat. Eventually it would grow, and trample the world just the same as its predecessor.

  The fist held in the air for longer than necessary. Monga knew he should do, what he had do to. But his fist lowered slowly, and with gritted teeth he turned and walked away, leaving the child alone in the forest.

  ---

  A python hid in the tall grass of the forest as it eyed the small child lying motionless. It flicked its tongue again and started to slither towards him. Closer and closer it crept. Silently. Giving nothing for its prey to detect.

  It stopped a short distance away, and began to coil itself. Suddenly it shot forward with its mouth open wide, and Banda’s eyes snapped opened. He vaulted over the ground as the snake bite through the dirt, and bore down at the enemy who had woken him with a snarl.

  Feral form took him on instinct as he lunged with the python’s second strike. Banda weaved around its fanged mouth to grab hold of its neck with mouth hands, and gripped it as hard as he could.

  The python thrashed and coiled all around as it tried to shake the child off it, but Banda held on. He squeezed down with all his power, and crushed its throat. The python’s thrashes soon turned to squirms, and its squirms to a lifeless still.

  Banda waited for a moment, his grip still tight around the dead snake’s neck, and beat it once into the ground. He glanced at the snake, then whipped its head into a tree with a sickening crunch. But nothing happened then either.

  Banda carelessly tossed the snake away. He didn’t understand why, but the creature no longer posed a threat. With the immediate danger passed, Banda looked around at the world for the first time.

  To his sides in all direction were tall cedar trees. Below them the rich green grass and above the deep blue sky. All unrecognizable and mysterious to him.

  Banda glanced around and started to walk off in a random direction. As his gaze drifted down, he stopped suddenly at a patch of dirt that interrupted the grass at his feet. He went prone to a crouching stance and hopped around as if to warn and taunt it in equal parts.

  After a few moments, he finally decided to draw closer. Banda mauled the dirt as he darted away in the same motion, out of caution for what might happen. But nothing did. So he drew closer again, prodding at the soft dirt a few times before digging a handful of it out.

  Banda stared at it as infantile thoughts ran through his mind. The dirt seemed much like the grass beneath his feet. Different from the snake that attacked him. He thought for a moment more, then put it in his mouth. And promptly spat it back out.

  With a bitter expression, he continued on his way to see what else the forest had. He had hardly taken a few steps before the sound of rustling leaves in the wind startled him.

  In his wariness, he struck a tree with his bare hand, but only managed to hurt himself. Feral Form overcame him out of anger and he punched again, this time breaking the tree in half.

  The tree fell with a mighty thud and became still. Banda deduced that much like the snake, he had defeated it. As it deserved for hurting his hand.

  Growls and squawks in the distance stole his attention. These were different from the rustling leaves, something within him assured. With nothing else to go on, he headed towards the sounds.

  He heard the cry of something above, and rolled away just in time to avoid the jagged beak of a large bird. Several more Razorbeaks dove down at him one after the other. Banda was able to dodge, but every strike he tried in return missed badly due to their speed.

  As he dodged again, his foot tripped over a rock, and one of the hostile birds struck at the opportunity. Banda’s hand found the rock as he scrambled back, and flung it forward on reflex. It broke the bird’s wing and sent it reeling off course straight into a tree, where it floundered pathetically on the ground.

  Banda’s eyes drank in the sight. Without contemplating further, he grabbed more rocks and threw them at the attacking birds. The first attempt was mediocre, but each time he threw his aim and power improved. And eventually, he killed them all.

  The young savage walked closer to the first bird he hit, still flapping useless in the dirt, and broke its neck as he had done to the snake.

  Banda glanced around then back to the bird in his hand, and took a bite. He spat out its feathers immediately and smashed the bird into the ground out of annoyance. The flying things did not taste good either.

  Banda once again turned his attention to the forest. It was full of annoying and bad tasting things, but he couldn’t help but feel drawn to the distance. With no hesitation, with no higher purpose, he scampered on to see what the forest held.