The forest had gone quiet. Too quiet.
Not the "peaceful meditation" kind of quiet, but the kind that comes right before a horror movie jumpscare.
The wind didn't move. The leaves didn't rustle. Not a single beast made a sound. It was like the whole world was holding its breath.
Creed stared around in caution, chest rising and falling as he gasped for air, every muscle screaming from pain, blood dripping from his ears.
His legs were jelly. His soul felt like it had been put in a blender. Still, he didn't stop moving.
He kept dashing forward, wings of light flaring around him, only one thought pounding in his mind like a war drum: Run. Run. Run.
Then—
BOOM!
Creed's head snapped sideways as a massive blur of red appeared a few feet beside him, without warning!
No sound. No pressure. No buildup. It was just suddenly there!
The Beast King!
Its enormous body looked like someone had dipped a phoenix in molten rubies and then fed it steroids and hate.
