By the time Viktor awakened, there was a man in front of him. He had a television head. Viktor didn’t pay much attention to these 'beings;' they belonged to a different kind of species. They were humans once. But after too much time with the machine that made Viktor’s kindred and all the other beasts who they are now, they become addicted to it. In human beings, the machine didn’t grant them consciousness or physical enhancements. Oh no. It, on the contrary, rendered humans addicted to it. And how so? Well, humans had regarded their highly intelligent intelligence as the most important aspect of their existence and, of course, their standout talent that made them govern over the other creatures, as would God put it, “..and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth." These head-TV men clung to the fantasy that they must have dominion over the animal kingdom at any cost. The machine that produced Viktor’s first kindred was able to render fiction into reality. And so, what other thing would come to man’s mind than having the power to control any hallucination until now conceived only in fairy tales and be able to render it not only once but infinitely? The answer morphed into a TV for the head. The man simply had to switch channels, and he immediately lived whatever fiction he desired. And the expectations would have the delight of watching what he was watching or being the god of. This man, as Viktor could watch—for a brief moment, for he wasn’t interested in these things; they were purposeless objects and slaves of their own imaginations—was a thief and also a lover of Justine, who couldn’t be caught up by the police department. The whole life of this thief revolved around stealing for his girlfriend and having fun evading the police. Viktor didn’t have to watch these 'movies;' they promised cheap entertainment and fiction not apt for nature. The movies they showed consisted of fleeting snaps, one after another, rendering happiness that the user found entertaining. Viktor could have told that his body was aging by simply looking at it and recognizing that every crack and chink had a value, but not as a reward but as performance; he had been performing all his life following wanders and striving for them. He wasn’t invidious; the TV-head men could not age properly inside their heads; their accomplishments had lost any purpose, and everything left was a fleeting pleasure that would never fill up a void that they didn’t know what it was. Viktor moved on quickly because a deep derision imbedded in his psyche for these TV men diminished his hunger. He was so eager to hunt down an oblivious prey on this new day. Why, then, don't you devour this TV-head man so easily offered by chance? No resisting prey would sate him, and lack of consciousness in this case made the TV-head man a flower in Viktor’s eyes. The performance is about living actors, not inerts!

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Miles away, in front of Viktor, a man was opening a box. This man looked like a soldier. The box contained food. Much of this food was frozen. Viktor lurked at him. Viktor noticed something was out of place. A sudden and rapid shot pierced Viktor from above. His right arm was wounded, and Viktor felt a thrill. Unlike the old man and his cheap shotgun, the gun that had just shot him was made of the same bones that former beasts’ corpses had left on the ground. There were many ways to kill a beast; technology regarded as magic by the common beast had, in the beast’s eyes, magic properties that could or even rule over them. A human trait that beasts don’t have despite their intellect. This was the most astounding fact that only humans were capable of, and why, for other beasts, they were baptized as magicians. A prosthetic did the trick. Soldiers had incorporated into their bodies a ‘magic hub.’ This magic hub allowed humans to connect and interface with other devices that would shoot, peal, appraise, or even act as a tranquilizer. Spheres followed them everywhere they went. Beasts didn’t attack the small spheres around humans, and some reason can be that these were regarded as part of the human as a beast and therefore unnecessary to deprive them of their magic wands. It would have been easier to fight a beast without their fangs than to face off against a human without magic.

Viktor’s thrill rapidly changed into a sense of dread. Animosity soon shuffled their emotions off; emotions so characteristic of hunting, like detachment, gained Viktor’s troubled heart a sense of purpose, and then an affirmative thought—perhaps delusion—about winning his daily bread overshadowed the frightful dread. The soldier realized that there was a beast nearby and placed his food box right over a gray pebble, focusing his thoughts on another sphere that was hovering. He thought about good memories, about his childhood, and about a Christmas tree. The sphere enhanced its pleasure through these memories. These memories fueled his purposeful mind, so he can’t move toward uncertainty. And activating a landing mine near Viktor, he once again provoked a thought that calmed him down and reassured him that everything was ok and God was on his side. This time, her mother caressed his head. Almost all of his dread was quelled. A broad smile was painted over his face; he was sure of his victory. Viktor quaked and then fell on his knees. Viktor had never thought heretofore about his mother when scouting for food prospects. For the first time in his three years, he had a real adversary who threatened with a likely end. A looming and perilous thought chewed on his brain. The smiling soldier approached Viktor and perused on him, “A W-109 species we’ve got here.” “Oh, mother, how happy you’ve made me. And granted on this sunny and perfect day by God the possibility to sell this beast at its highest price! There is indeed a silver lining after that disastrous operation.” The sphere reshaped itself into a jab and jabbed into Viktor’s skin. He lost consciousness briefly after.