Grain sprinted through the dense jungle, his feet pounding against the underbrush. Behind him, Terra struggled to keep up, her breaths coming in short gasps.

"Big brother!" she called, her voice laced with frustration.

"You better speed up, Terra, or I'm gonna win again!" Grain shouted over his shoulder, laughter bubbling in his voice.

"That's not fair, Grain !" Terra pouted. "You had a head start!"

These excursions into the jungle were their secret adventures, a shared thrill of seeking the legendary ruins their family and village often spoke of. At the top of a mound, Grain halted, catching his breath with a triumphant grin.

"I win again, Terra!" he laughed, hands on his hips as Terra finally caught up, panting.

"What...ever," she mumbled, her face flushed as she glared at him.

From the top of the mound, Grain gazed out over the endless expanse of jungle stretching before them. Shadows lengthened, hinting at hidden mysteries within the depths. It was on this mound he could see the large dense wall that lay in the far distance.

"There's so much more to see, Terra," he whispered, wonder filling his eyes. "So much more to find..."

"We should go back," Terra urged, casting a worried glance over her shoulder. "Mom's gonna be angry again. We aren't supposed to go this far."

"Nah, I don't feel like it." Grain shot her a mischievous look.

"What do you mean?" Terra's eyes widened. "We're going to get in trouble aga—"

"Ha! You fell for it again, Terra!" Grain burst into laughter.

"I'm telling Mom!" Terra whined, chasing after him as he led them back to the village.

Village - Sunset

By the time they returned, the village was painted in the warm hues of sunset. Other children spotted them and ran over, their faces eager.

"Where have you been?" one boy asked, crossing his arms.

"Come on," another chimed in, rolling his eyes. "Isn't it obvious?"

"You got me," Grain said, shrugging. "We were out in the jungle, exploring."

A girl eyed him, her expression wary. "You know we're not supposed to go past the cliff's edge, right?"

"Of course!" Grain scoffed. "Even I wouldn't go past that."

A nearby villager overheard and chuckled. "Are you sure about that?" he teased.

"I wouldn't put it past the boy," another villager said, smiling.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Grain retorted, feigning offense.

Amid the laughter, a woman stepped out of a nearby hut and started toward them. Terra's eyes widened as the woman was about to nudge Grain .

"Mark my words! I'll explore this jungle, every corner, every secret—," Grain said unknowing of the events that were about to transpire.

"Uh... Grain ..." she whispered, nudging him.

Grain turned to see his mother's stern gaze fixed on him.

"You'll what, boy?" Mother Igo demanded, her hands on her hips.

Grain's face blanched as she reached out, knocking him lightly on the head.

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"MOTHER! Why do you always do that?"

"Why are you always out in the jungle late?" Mother Igo shot back, her voice rising.

Grain glanced at the other villagers, a sheepish grin on his face. "Because there's no jungle I won't explore!"

Mother Igo sighed, exasperated, but her eyes softened. "You're just like your father."

The onlookers chuckled as Grain's mother, still holding him by the ear, pulled him further into the village. Just then, Father Igo and his hunting party emerged from the jungle, striding into the clearing. Towering over the other villagers, the men bore ritual paint streaked across their faces and arms, symbols of battles fought and victories won in the dense jungle.

Seeing his father, Grain seized his chance, calling out with a pleading tone. "Dad! Help me! Mother's really going to kill me this time!"

Father Igo's gaze met Grain's, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. "Whatever your mother says is right, son. Take your punishment," he said softly before quickly looking away, pretending not to notice Mother Igo's withering stare.

As Mother Igo continued to drag Grain along, Terra trailed behind them, wide-eyed, watching as her mother scolded him all the way to their hut.

Inside the Hut – Morning

Inside the dimly lit hut, the family shrine glowed softly, casting shadows across an array of worn relics and mementos from generations past. At the shrine's center stood a weathered statue of a Black Steel Bear, their family's spirit animal, revered for its strength and ferocity. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if in silent awe of the creature's presence.

Mother Igo's stern voice broke the silence. "You're always late for prayer, Grain. How many times must I remind you?"

Grain grimaced, rubbing his ear. "Alright, alright, I'll sit..." he muttered, kneeling before the shrine.

Terra knelt beside him, folding her hands in silent prayer. Grain closed his eyes, his mind drawn to the image of the Black Steel Bear. In his imagination, the bear's colossal form loomed before him, towering in the heart of the jungle. Its fur was dark and dense, like natural armor, and its claws were sharp enough to slice through anything that dared oppose it. Grain's heart thundered, and sweat trickled down his forehead as he faced the creature in his mind.

Each time he encountered this vision, he felt a familiar fear—a primal instinct to flee. But today, something was different. His hand twitched, a spark igniting within him, a defiance that he hadn't felt before.

Terra leaned close, her voice barely a whisper. "How was it this time?"

Grain, still catching his breath, murmured, "Different. It wasn't just fear... it was something else."

Father Igo, who had entered quietly, placed a reassuring hand on Grain's shoulder. His voice was low and reverent. "That's courage, my son. The spirit of the Black Steel Bear. Remember that feeling."

Grain nodded, awestruck. "I will."

Village River – Evening

As the sun dipped low, Grain and Terra splashed with the other children by the village river. The water glistened beneath the fading light, casting shimmering reflections across their joyful faces.

Riven waded over, his eyes alight with curiosity. "Did you feel it this time? That courage?"

Grain grinned, wiggling his fingers in the air. "Yeah. Just a little. But I moved."

Riven's eyes widened. "What? No way! I can't even twitch when I meditate."

Another boy joined them, splashing water their way. "Hey, Grain! Who do you think would win—your Black Steel Bear or my Clouded Leopard?"

Grain didn't hesitate, his voice full of confidence. "The Black Steel Bear!"

Laughter erupted among the children, and Grain leaned back, letting the cool water wash over him. He closed his eyes, soaking in the sounds of nature, the laughter of his friends, and the deep sense of belonging he felt within his tribe. The jungle loomed beyond the river, mysterious and uncharted—a world waiting to be discovered, one he would explore with newfound courage.

BOOM

The explosion shattered the peace, ripping through the jungle like a wrathful storm. The children's laughter died in their throats, leaving only silence in its place. They sat in the river, frozen, eyes wide and hearts pounding, as the rumbling echoed across the canopy.

"Children, come here!" A voice cut through the silence, urgent and trembling. The children turned, seeing the villagers sprinting towards them, faces contorted with fear. Grain snapped out of his stupor and grabbed Terra's hand, tugging her along as he stumbled toward the village. But Terra didn't respond, her gaze fixed on something above.

As they raced back, Grain looked up—and his heart lurched. The sky was moving. A wave of darkness swept across the heavens, blotting out the late-day sun. He squinted, disoriented. Why is the sky moving? The wave slid swiftly past, and then an enormous gust of wind whipped through the jungle, bending trees low to the earth and kicking up clouds of dust and leaves. Around them, the jungle seemed to come alive with chaos—creatures of every kind burst from the undergrowth, scattering in every direction, wild-eyed and trembling with terror.

"Grain! Terra!" His mother's voice pierced the din, and he spotted his parents running toward them.

In moments, they reached him, and Father Igo lifted both children into his arms, holding them close. "Thank Mother Earth you're safe," he murmured, relief clear in his voice.

Without another word, they hurried toward the village, the ominous silence settling around them once more. As they drew closer, Grain cast one last glance over his shoulder, feeling an unshakable dread creep into his bones. Whatever had happened out there, whatever force had shaken their world, its echoes lingered—heavy, foreboding, a warning yet to be understood.