I run, desperate to maintain my freedom, but exhaustion weighs heavily on me. I adopt an animalistic mindset, staying among the trees to evade the helicopters. My HUD GPS guides me along the optimal trajectory.
One of the hunters muses, "This beast is smarter than the terrorists I chased in Afghanistan. What a pleasure to hunt. It's as if it knows this terrain like the back of its hand, precisely where we can't get a shot."
They pursue me like a relentless game of cat and mouse until I find myself cornered in an industrial zone. My strategy involves following power lines to disrupt the helicopters. But fatigue, both mental and physical, has taken its toll, compounded by the arduous journey with the wolves.
I approach a sawmill and, with a powerful leap, crash through the door. Seeking refuge inside the building, I scan for a dark corner to hide, but numerous holes in the wooden walls allow the piercing sunlight to seep in. Hiding is futile; if I'm captured, concealing my abilities is paramount. Perhaps they'll underestimate me and leave me in a less secure facility.
"Octahedron??????? Options??"
--- Playing the submissive pet is safer.
--- Destruction will lead to defeat.
--- Evolution toward Leviathan isn't ready.
--- Not enough energy.
--- Choose a peaceful facade.
I decide to stash my bag, forcing open the engine control box to store my belongings. I then knock down wooden panels, creating a barricade that no one can easily lift.
Leaving the building, I feign panic, moving like a cornered animal, hissing to maintain my façade.
The helicopters land, and the sergeant aims his gun at me. He leaps from the aircraft and approaches me, noting, "Ah, you're more intelligent than I thought, for a creature. I wouldn't mind having a pet like you for our war missions. You seem to understand surrender and not provoke me." I meet his gaze briefly before dropping my eyes to his boots.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
"Ah, much better. I'm beginning to like you. HAHAHAHAHA, I'm conversing with a beast as though it understands me," he chuckles. I remain unresponsive, recognizing his attempt to gauge my reaction.
He moves closer, one hand resting on his concealed Rambo knife and the other on a dart gun.
As he gets nearer, I start whining and lower my head submissively.
"Be cautious, Mr. Sarge; he's a predator, and we don't know for sure. Perhaps he's been trained," McGyvor advises. "What a magnificent creature. It was believed to be extinct or purely the stuff of legends. We absolutely must protect it; its value is immeasurable."
I'm relieved that they seem interested in securing me rather than eliminating me, which would have been a more dire outcome.
"Shall we proceed?" the sergeant asks.
"If it moves, yes. It appears to follow instructions like a trained animal; it might willingly enter the cage," says McGyvor. "But there's a risk with the dart; its unique physiology might not react well to the tranquilizer."
I moan, a response to McGyvor, "GOOD, GOOD, GOOD, GOOD. Stay."
I lick him while whining, finding some comfort in this unexpected physical contact.
"SIT DOWN!" the sergeant commands. I promptly take a sitting position.
"Relax," he says again, and I obediently lie down.
The sergeant seems to realize that I may have been trained when I was smaller, but as I grew, I was left to my own devices. Unconsciously, he starts to pet my head.
It's not an unpleasant sensation; sometimes, I need the warmth of human contact, not in a sexual sense but as a yearning for companionship and solace. These changes, this relentless pursuit, has left me deeply traumatized.
Soon, a large truck fitted with a cage arrives and opens its rear doors.
"Get in the enclosure," orders the sergeant.
Slowly, I turn around, eye the cage, and enter of my own accord. I crouch inside, and the doors are locked behind me.
I hear someone say, "Well, we haven't had to resort to violence, and it's fortunate that it's docile. It'll be easier to place it in an appropriate environment."
And so, my brief taste of freedom comes to an end.
A helicopter lands before the entrance and comes to a halt.