The lizard village sat deep in the Animal Forest, half-shadowed by towering trees whose roots coiled like sleeping snakes. The huts were narrow and crooked, their roofs of woven bark sagging under the damp air. Civilians crept through the paths, skinny figures with scales glistening under the humid sun. They carried baskets of fruit and buckets of water, whispering quietly as though their voices alone could break the fragile calm.

  

  

  In the main square, lizard soldiers gathered before a massive dojo. Each one clutched a long spear tipped with bone, tails flicking nervously. Their voices hissed low.

  

  

  "Where is he?"

  "You think he changed his mind about going to war?"

  The murmurs carried, filling the courtyard with unease.

  Inside the dojo, in his private chambers, Lord Sunscales paced frantically, he sat down in his throne. His long tail twitched with every step. Sweat glistened on his forehead.

  A knock at the door jolted him. "Sir, are you okay?"

  "Yes!" Sunscales croaked, voice high. "Yes, I'm fine, just... adjusting myself!"

  

  

  Before he could calm his nerves, the door burst open with a kick. Sunscales squealed and dove behind a chair.

  Lionice strode in, crisp white button-up clinging to his shoulders, hands buried in his pockets. His glasses flashed like a scalpel under the lamplight. His tone cut even sharper.

  

  

  "Sir, what the hell are you doing? The people are waiting for you."

  "I-I was merely preparing a speech of the ages!" Sunscales stammered, straightening and puffing out his chest with exaggerated pride.

  Behind Lionice stood Singway, arms folded, unimpressed. "Are you sure? You look jittery as a scared little chameleon. If you go out there like that, no one's gonna follow you."

  

  

  "I am not scared!" Sunscales snapped, voice cracking.

  

  

  "Then go outside and talk to the people," Lionice said flatly, his tone carrying the weight of absolute logic.

  Sunscales stumbled toward the door, nodding too quickly. "Of course."

  The three of them walked the dojo hallway, silence thick around them.

  Sunscales follows behind Lionice and Singway. He whispers to himself "Demigods."

  

  

  Finally, Sunscales muttered, "Lionice, you're the strongest among us. Are you certain this war is a good idea?"

  "At this point, does it matter?" Lionice replied coolly. "Whether we fight or not, we're sitting ducks. If we fight, probability dictates heavy casualties. If we hide, extinction is inevitable. The only honorable option is resistance."

  

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  Sunscales swallowed hard. "Geebers... you really think we'll die? Is that your true estimated guess?"

  "Yes. Roughly thirty-to-seventy. The war heavily favors the Royals."

  "Thirty-to-seventy?!" Sunscales wailed.

  Singway clapped Sunscales on the back. "Don't listen to him. I hear there's a divine God named Joy watching over us. That means we'll survive this war for sure."

  

  

  "Gods aren't real," Lionice said with surgical precision. "Only science."

  "That attitude is exactly why God won't save you if life hits the fan," Singway shot back.

  They reached the exit. Sunscales pushed the door open.

  The lizard soldiers erupted in applause, their hissing cheers rattling through the courtyard. Behind them, civilians peeked nervously, eyes shining with hope.

  

  

  Sunscales raised his arms, his voice quivering.

  "My fellow lizards! The... uh... war... yes, the war is near, and I... am confident... we will... possibly succeed! The Royals... uh... have many warriors, yes, and perhaps we shall... die horribly, but also... maybe not! So keep your spirits up... sort of!"

  Confusion spread through the ranks. Heads tilted. Whispers grew louder.

  Singway stepped forward, clapping loudly. "What Lord Sunscales means is this: the Royals may have machines, armies, and knights, but we have each other. We have the spirit of the forest, the fire of survival, and the courage to fight for our children! We will stand together, and no matter the odds, we will not bow to tyranny!"

  The crowd roared, tails slapping the ground like war drums. Soldiers raised their spears high. Civilians shouted his name.

  Sunscales exhaled with relief, slipping back behind Singway's shadow.

  Later that evening, in the backyard of a small house, mechanical parts littered the grass. Lionice lay on his back beneath a half-built machine, sparks flashing as his tools clicked.

  Singway leaned over him. "How's it going?"

  "Almost finished," Lionice said. "I need a specific alloy to stabilize the core, but once that's done, Gibbons will be fully operational for battle."

  GIBBON THE MECHA

  

  

  He sat up, wiping grease from his hands. A small mech machine stood before them, barely the size of a house cart but gleaming with promise.

  Singway grinned. "Wow, so you built yourself a robot."

  Lionice glared over his glasses. "It's not a robot. It's a mecha."

  "What's the difference?"

  "Robots are programmed machines. Mechs are piloted devices. But a mecha—" he tapped the chest of the machine—"is a human-synced construct. We become the machine. Gibbons may be smaller than the mechas described in theory, but he's powerful enough."

  Singway's eyes sparkled. "That's so cool! I wish I had one."

  "You can't. Only humans can synchronize with mechas. You're a lizard."

  She pouted dramatically. "Not fair."

  Lionice stood, dusting off his shirt and throwing on his jacket. "Come on."

  "Where are we going?"

  "To get strawberry smoothies."

  "Yum! My favorite!"

  Moments later, Gibbons, sleek and compact, rose into the sky, carrying them above the Animal Forest. From up high, the Royal District glimmered in the distance like a forbidden jewel.

  

  

  Singway leaned leaned forward out of her seat. "So... are we going to hurt innocent Royals because that would suck ya know?"

  

  

  "Singway Put on your seat belt on and to answer your question, we may or may not," Lionice said coldly. "Every Royal is a victim of propaganda. They want to see our demise. Thus, they will suffer the same fate as their rulers at some point."

  

  

  "That seems kinda wrong, y'know."

  Lionice's glasses glinted. "Morality is a luxury of those not on the brink of annihilation. Logic dictates survival at any cost."

  She frowned softly but let it slide, her tone turning playful. "What'll you do once we win the war?"

  "My goal is to leave this island. Deer Point is only one floating mass in the sky. I want to know the truth of this world, and I cannot know it while confined here."

  

  

  Her eyes widened. "Leave the island? Where would you even go?"

  "Beyond the sky."

  "I see," she said after a moment, her smile returning. "Well, I just want to stay here in the lizard village and start a comedy club."

  Lionice scoffed. "That's a stupid dream."

  "No more stupid than you trying to flee the island."

  He paused, then smirked. "Point taken."

  Gibbons glided on, carrying them into the night sky, two dreams colliding above a world at war.