Chapter 7

From the Thunder, Hope

Leo woke up well rested and even a bit happy--that was until he noticed a reminder that there were only two days left until the Foundation Establishment boar would come and try to send him to accompany its mate to the afterlife. He still had no feasible answer to the conundrum--his best bet, ultimately, were the Spike Traps he unlocked, and possibly the help of the animals.

Knowing full well that nothing would be handed to him, he decided to dig out several traps today and pepper them about carefully. Whether they would work or not he didn’t know, but they’d at least impede the beast temporarily if nothing else.

Sighing, he stretched and walked out of the hut. By now, he had to be very careful while exiting since there were quite a few felines, squirrels, and lizards lying about the exit.

It was only once he was outside that he noticed the weather had changed--though it wasn’t raining or anything just yet, he smelled it. Unlike the days prior, there were no sunbeams piercing through the canopy of trees--it was rather dim and solemn, and even the winds seemed disorganized and wild.

Additionally, it was a few degrees chillier than before; nothing critical, of course, but enough to recognize that once the rain hit, it’d likely get to be a lot colder.

Leo frowned and looked around--there were still quite a few animals that were residing outside the hut, either on top of it, or on the trees around it. If it rained really hard or, even worse, if the weather became stormy, who knew what would happen to the animals.

Clutching his fingers into a fist, he grew with determination--even if he couldn’t house all of them, he’d make at least a few extra mud huts as shelters!

Without going for a quick bath, and even skipping breakfast, he quickly began gathering materials for the mud hut. He vaguely recalled both the ingredients as well as the number of each he’d need, prioritizing gathering grass, stones, and such, as creating mud was relatively easy with the pond nearby.

The animals quickly grew curious as to what he was doing, with quite a few following him around and observing him in silence. He ignored the strange looks and continued gathering ingredients as the lights of the day grew dimmer. Though he couldn’t make out the clouds quite well past the canopy of the trees, he didn’t need to, knowing full well that it was just about to rain.

In the end, he settled for making three new huts--gathering any more ingredients would have him leave the immediate periphery of the hut and the pond, and there was simply no time for it. Returning home, he cleaned up the spots for the extra huts and placed them down. Where there was one, there were now four--they were identical in make, shape, design, and size.

Unsurprisingly, as soon as they were finished, the animals began moving into them as though it was theirs even before it was there. Within minutes, all three new huts were full with new occupants, and Leo smiled with pride at the sight.

It was right on time, too, as merely half an hour later, the first crack of thunder signaled the storm that was to come. Leo snuggled into the hut as well and silently prayed that the system’s ability to build a hut was so otherworldly it could endure the violent winds and rain.

Darkness surged and swallowed the outside, and he started a very small fire to keep the hut warm and alight. It wasn’t long before quite a few animals snuggled up next to him, and within minutes, he was overcome with them--they were on his shoulders, his head, his chest, his lap, his feet, hanging loose from his robes, or entirely within those robes, and there was even a very small, pixie-sized bat hanging off his earlobe.

It was all very wonderful and great, if it were not beyond uncomfortable, but he stayed silent and endured. A small armadillo-shaped critter that was nestled in his lap was shivering, and Leo gently caressed it until it calmed down. It didn’t last long, however, for the storm truly began.

Even the mere glimpse of the outside horrified him--though he’d experienced the extremes of bad weather on Earth, he’d never experienced anything quite like this. The sheer level of sound that the cracks of thunder produced were so deafening that it felt as though someone repeatedly fired off guns right by his ear. He was certain that, if he hadn’t become a Cultivator, the thunder would have blown both his eardrums, or deafened him permanently altogether.

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The ground suddenly shook as though someone was digging directly underneath it, and, even through the system’s powers, Leo felt it--fear. The world tilted ever so slightly to the side and he was certain that the mud hut would collapse on top of them, but it held steady.

The animals around him whimpered and cried, snuggling even closer to him, quivering. His breathing quickened, and he watched the darkness outside be vanquished in a blinding flash of light--right thereabout, he saw it, the zip of thunder the size of a tree trunk ripping like a cord just some forty yards from the hut.

He could scarcely process it when he felt himself be blown backward into the hut’s wall, and then right through it. He instinctively moved his arms and cradled the few animals that were in his arms close to his chest, curling up and taking a heavy beating--he tore through several trees, collapsing them, and rolled on the muddied ground.

Standing up as quickly as he could, he immediately inspected the animals--luckily, they were all safe, if not shaken and terrified. He estimated he had been knocked back at least fifty yards away, so he sprinted back to check on everyone else--all of the mud huts were obliterated, with the animals lying scattered about. His heart bled for a second as he realized that the darkness was lifting--and the rain was stopping.

Settling the animals in his arms down, he raced over to the collapsed mud hut that he was blown through and dug around, managing to find several animals that weren’t able to get out in time. Luckily, they were all alive, and after confirming that, he ran about the other three huts and did the same.

As the sunbeams began to wash through the canopy of the trees, he fixed up the clearing, started a fire, and gingerly paid attention to the animals who haven’t woken up yet. Among them was the white panther that he’d only occasionally seen; it seemed to have been hurt the most as one of its front paws was bent in an awkward way. Leo didn’t dare move it as he wasn’t a vet--all he could do was experiment with the grasses, flowers, and herbs in the forest further and try to find the best ones for dressing the wound up.

He also gathered the scattered bits of fruits and vegetables and started making a new batch of the stew. Rushing between the waking animals, the passed out ones, the stew, and further removing the destroyed debris quickly drained him, but he couldn’t sit down until everything was fixed.

The storm truly came out of the blue--and it disappeared just the same. It burned through in just a couple of minutes before moving on. He’d never experienced a bolt of thunder quite like the one that struck just forty yards from him--had it hit him squarely, or even just the mud hut he was in... would he have survived? He was uncertain. Even with the system’s ‘help’, chances were that he’d have been killed on the spot.

Magically, the tree that the owl lived on, as well as its nest, were both completely fine. Within the sea of wooden chunks and shards of the shattered fauna around, it stood like a pillar upholding the sky.

With the first batch of the stew finished, he slowly went around feeding animals one by one. The white panther woke up in the meantime and, by the time Leo got to him, his wounded paw seemed to have been fixed completely. It was currently licking it, stopping only when Leo lowered the bowl of stew that he quickly slurped up.

As the first batch wound down, Leo went on to make four more before every animal seemed to have been fed and full. Crashing down onto the ground, he felt tired; by now, the mud had hardened and dried, turning back to dirt once more. The temperature, too, had risen quite a lot, though it was still some ways cooler than the past couple of days.

Looking at the remains of the huts, Leo felt a knot twist up inside his stomach; he figured it would be enough, but it was far from it. If another storm like that passed above them or, worse yet, if it stuck around for minutes or hours, there would be nothing left of this place--not the trees, the flowers, the fruits, or even the animals.

Whether through the system or his own blind experimentation, he realized he’d have to build much sturdier shelters. Perhaps dig a cave underground, perhaps make a stone hut, or something else entirely--but he’d have to do something.

Many-colored python appeared suddenly by his side and coiled up his right arm until its head was resting on Leo’s cheek. He couldn’t help but softly laugh; back on Earth, if he saw even a shadow of a snake, he would have likely had a panic attack and passed out. And yet, here he was, coiling up with a rather large, fantastical-looking python, feeling warmed up rather than afraid.

That was the case with every other animal, too--the white panther lurched up next to his feet, resting against them, while the black panther--the housecat-sized one--sat on top of his chest, licking himself freely. One by one, they converged near or atop of him, curling up just like during the storm.

The selfish motivation of survival within began to wane, like a sugar cube dipped into water. In its stead, a surge of warmth blurred the reality--they’d embraced him, so wholly, ever since he randomly intruded on their land. They didn’t attack, bother, or even scare him; they helped him, curiously followed him around, and shared with him this beautiful world.

He smiled and closed his eyes, smelling the sweet scent of the grass and dirt after rain, feeling the pulses of heartbeats around him join into a beautiful symphony. He’d build them and himself a home beneath the sky, a home that would never break, never be shattered, a home that would stay and stand long after they all vanished into the sands of time. A monument to the rebirth in his heart.