Inside Grax's warm, earthy chambers, the chieftain sat across from the shimmering projection of the Monkey King. The air was still, save for the gentle crackle of a small fire nestled in the hearth's stone belly.
"You won't believe what happened, my friend," Grax rumbled, a confident glint in his eye. "Another El broke through... this one unlike any we've seen before. A true behemoth. Stood at least six stories tall a pulsating mountain of sickness and rot."
The Monkey King's usual mischievous grin slipped. His golden eyes widened. "Six stories? A mammoth El? That's... unheard of. Did your perimeter forces hold?"
Grax leaned back with a satisfied sigh. "They held as best they could but this was beyond them. We were on the brink. Then... Braxill stepped in and defeated the creature."
Silence.
The Monkey King's image flickered slightly, his expression frozen as he processed the words. "...The human boy?" he finally said, voice hushed. "He did that? I must see him. Immediately."
Just then, Grixie stepped into the chambers, carrying a tray of steaming berry tea. "He's resting, Monkey King," she said gently. "That power of his... while incredible, it drains him. It takes a great deal out of him."
The Monkey King's shoulders slumped slightly, though his expression turned contemplative. "I see. A great gift often demands a great price." He paused, golden eyes returning to Grax. "Still... for a child to fell such a beast... that's remarkable."
The Monkey King's playful air melted away, replaced by a sharp, calculating glint in his ancient eyes. His voice lowered, serious and certain.
"And that, dear Grax... is exactly why the time is now. The Animal Kingdom must unite. This is the perfect moment to wage war against King Mr. Green."
Grax's heavy brows drew together, his features carved with unease. Even with their forces combined, the thought of open conflict with the Sky King was a weight that pressed deep.
"War?" he echoed, the word rolling off his tongue like a stone. "You would have us march toward that storm?"
"Yes," the Monkey King said flatly, then leaned in, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. "He's weak right now. Tangled in his war against the Els. His military is stretched too thin, love. He's been bleeding machines, sending more mech units to the surface daily—focused entirely on that so-called 'global feast.' His gaze is turned downward. His throne is unguarded."
He paused, golden eyes gleaming with fire.
"I've had scouts, my top monkey soldiers, slip into the outer human zones. And what they found... it's worse than we imagined. It's not just poverty, Grax. It's a graveyard of hope. His people are starving in silence, living in ruin. He has sucked them dry and soon, he'll turn his hunger toward us."
The words hung in the air like smoke.
"He will come for our resources. Our harmony. Our children's future. That monster won't be satisfied until the Animal Kingdom is nothing but another cog in his machine empire."
Grax bowed his head, the fire casting flickering shadows across his furrowed face. Every word struck with terrifying logic. The danger was not just possible, it was inevitable.
The Monkey King didn't let the silence linger. He pressed forward, a sly smile curling on his lips.
"I haven't been idle, old friend. I've already secured one of the most stubborn allies in the realm."
Grax looked up sharply. "Who?"
"The Old Coyote," the Monkey King said with a flourish, voice thick with triumph. "His tribe stands with us."
Grax blinked, caught off guard.
"The Coyote? You convinced her?"
The Monkey King's grin widened, eyes sparkling with mischief and fire.
"Something like that. Even the wild ones are waking up now, Grax. The King's shadow is long... but we are the storm gathering behind it."
Grax chuckled, the sound low and gravelly. He couldn't help himself.
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"You know, all this talk of powerful humans, and it looks like I'm the one with the strongest one at my side now. Guess your prodigies don't quite compare, eh?"
The Monkey King's eyes narrowed playfully. He shook his head with a slow grin.
"Don't get cocky, old bear. While your Braxill sounds formidable, I still have two humans with true Art abilities under my wing. There's Kellix, a Clayborn, he can shape anything from clay: barriers, beasts, even weapons. Quite handy in a bind."
He paused dramatically.
"And then there's Hielo... an artist who wields the Saber."
The name lingered in the air like the edge of a blade, sharp with challenge.But Braxill slept exhausted, in Gravixor's hut.
Outside, Grutix pouted. "Why can't I see him?"
"He's resting," Gravixor said patiently.
"Why can't he sleep in my hut?"
"Because I'm the one who agreed to care for him."
"I'm telling Mama Bear," Grutix declared.
"Find your own human," Gravixor replied coolly. "Braxill is mine."
Grutix smirked. "Ooouuii! Somebody's got a crush on the human boy!"
Gravixor blushed. "Not true!"
"He'll grow up handsome. Too bad you won't be his type. Chow!" Grutix bounded away.
Gravixor muttered, "Sometimes I hate her."
"Gravixor! Come get some honey cake!" someone called. She left in a flustered rush.
Inside, Braxill slept soundly.
But a shadow crept inside, Moco. She stood over him, eyes full of curousity... and something deeper.
Moco turns around to leave when.
"What's your name?" Braxill murmured, startling her.
"It's Moco," she whispered.
"That's a nice name," he said, eyes still half-closed.
"I saw what you did," she said. "You're strong."
"Joy gave me my power," Braxill replied. "He's the God of the Universe."
Moco's face darkened. "I don't believe in God."
Braxill blinked. "What about Joy? Everyone has Joy."
"There's nothing to be joyous about," Moco said coldly.
A silence fell.
"I just wanted to check if you were okay, since you saved me back in the forest" she said, turning to go.
"Wait," Braxill sat up. "Are you hungry?"
"No," she said, growl. Her stomach betrayed her.
Braxill giggled. "Hehehehe!"
Blushing, Moco sat beside him and ate the honey and berries he offered. Her eyes widened. "So good... I've never tasted anything like it."
She ate quickly. Braxill stared and shouted "Those are Berryvilles best honey and berries!"
"Stop staring at me!" she snapped.
"Sorry," he said.
"I'm a ghost," she murmured. "A white devil. A pale monster."
Braxill reached for her hand. She didn't pull away.
"Hehehe, see?"
"See what?" she asked.
"If you were a ghost, I wouldn't be able to touch you," he said. "And you're not a devil—Joy said the devil isn't human. And monsters are scary, but you're not scary at all. You're just different. In ancient times, people said the same about people who looked like me. I actually think you're super pretty, infact I couldn't stop thinking about you since the last time I saw you. My thoughts do ever stray to thee, In every thought, thou hast thy dwelling place, Thou art the constant subject of my mind, hehehe, that's shakesphere,."
She stared at him, his innocence disarming her while simultaneously creating a pressure pot of discomfort.
Then.......panic.
She pulled away, stood, and fled.
Braxill chased after her, but she was gone. Braxill said "Maybe I said to much just like in the ancient novels".
Moco hid, far from the celebration, curled in the deepest part of the bushes—silently crying, the warmth of his touch still clinging to her skin.