The world had not changed.
And yet, for him, everything had.
The wind still howled across the cliffs, pulling clouds of dust into spirals. Trees still stood like silent sentinels, roots dug deep into ancient soil. The predators still hunted, the rivers still ran. But for the beast that now stirred beneath a canopy of blackened trees, there was awareness—an unfamiliar, electrifying pulse surging through every fiber of his massive frame.
No longer did he react.
Now, he decided.
His name did not exist, for no beast had ever named itself. But something deep inside, something alien, whispered: Ka'roth. The sound meant nothing, yet it felt like him. A crude identity forming in a mind where no such thing should have been possible.
Ka'roth opened his amber eyes. They no longer scanned the world for prey out of hunger alone—they observed.
He moved slowly through the jungle, not out of fear, but curiosity. He saw birds—lesser creatures—chattering, mating, feeding, flying. But now he noticed patterns in their movements, heard rhythms in their calls. A flock always flew in a spiral before rain. The insects went silent seconds before a quake. His mind linked cause and effect like stars forming a constellation in the night sky.
For the first time in the history of beasts…
A creature was learning.
---
Beneath a jagged plateau of obsidian stone, Ka'roth encountered another predator—a massive, tusked reptilian brute known to others as the Gorvath. It snarled and charged, its instincts urging it to kill.
Ka'roth didn't roar.
He didn't even move.
Instead, his thoughts flashed like fire: Let it charge. Turn at the last moment. Leap for the neck, not the throat. Aim for the artery, not the flesh.
When the Gorvath lunged, Ka'roth flowed like water—side-step, claw-swipe, counter-bite.
Blood sprayed.
The Gorvath collapsed.
Ka'roth stood over its corpse, panting. A strange feeling stirred within him—not hunger, not rage. It was clarity. He had predicted the outcome before the fight began. He didn't just survive… he calculated victory.
Why?
Why do I think?
The sky did not answer. The wind offered no wisdom. And yet… something stirred in the roots of the world.
---
Far Away…
Across the western continent, in a massive valley where giant trees curled toward the heavens like green serpents, a storm brewed. But not a storm of wind or rain.
It was a storm of instinct collapsing.
Other beasts were changing.
A serpent that once struck blindly now hesitated, measuring distance with eerie calm. A four-eyed wolf howled not for dominance but to signal warning. A winged predator dropped shiny stones in a pattern around its nest, marking territory with symbols.
Something had infected the wild.
Not a disease.
A pulse.
A wave of consciousness spreading from Ka'roth like ripples across the ocean.
---
The Skyroot Tree
High in the northern mountains stood an ancient monument—older than beasts, older than the stars themselves: the Skyroot Tree. No beast knew of it. No creature had ever reached it.
But today… a single tremor passed through its trunk.
Its leaves shimmered faintly, as if stirred by a soundless voice. From its core, a glowing thread of blue light pulsed once, as if responding.
To what?
To him.
To Ka'roth.
The tree had been waiting.
---
The First Dream
That night, as Ka'roth rested on a bed of ash and bone, his eyes fluttered. And then—
He dreamed.
Visions of light, of stars being born, of colossal shadows devouring suns. Of beings made of fire, wind, and thought.
He saw words—things that had no meaning in his world.
He heard language.
He felt purpose.
He awoke with a gasp, breath fogging the cold air.
For the first time, he felt small.
And for the first time, he wanted… more.
Not food.
Not power.
But… understanding.
What was this world?
What was he?
The jungle no longer felt like home. The world was no longer his prison. It was now… a question.
And Ka'roth was determined to find the answer.
---