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- "Listen to me, I'm the Sacred Warrior, sent by the Kamis to gather the survivors! You must trust me!"
- "I won't say it again, go away! No matter what you say, I know exactly who you are. I don't want anything to do with you, so leave us alone!"
Dejected, Pü stared at the Zoraï. Standing with arms outstretched and palms turned backwards, she was shielding with her body the hollow of the tree in which her children seemed to be hidden. Pü, who had never seen children since the beginning of the invasion, could hear their sobs.
- "But I alone am able to protect you! Don't think that all the kitins wandering the surrounding area as harmless as the placid harvesters who busy themselves on the surrounding hills. I've fought patrols of far more dangerous insects, whiche specifically hunt isolated homins! They operate in small groups of five or six, and can be distinguished by their green and white carapace and elongated abdomen, similar to the tail of a scorpion. By the time you see them, it'll already be too late to react!"
Seeing the terror spring up in the Zoraï's eyes, Pü realised he had said the word too many. He had failed. He had failed again. For this was not the first group of survivors he had encountered since leaving the Eternal Garden two months ago. On his travels, he had discovered that many Zoraïs had taken refuge at the top of the great doraos that populated the region, places inaccessible to most kitins. The first time he found himself mask-to-mask with one of them, he was overcome by an excitement he hadn't felt for a long time. It had to be said that in the three years he had spent at the Kami's side, he had never met another homin. So, although he had been deeply absorbed in his training during this period, he had sometimes felt a crushing loneliness, often exacerbated by his suicidal crises. Of course, the Kami was always present at his side. But unlike a human, or even a pet, the Kami was not there to converse, take an interest in him, or offer him companionship and affection: his sole mission was to prepare the Sacred Warrior for the glorious destiny that awaited him. Their relationship was therefore limited to a precise objective that Pü found difficult to adhere to, and the Kami, by remaining mysterious, proved de facto inaccessible. Fortunately, although in her own enigmatic way, the Voice had always been present and had persevered in her efforts to brighten up these lonely days.
So, exalted by this first encounter, Pü thought he could impress these survivors by showing them his new magical abilities. After all, his training had proved effective: difficult though it had been, he had indeed managed to defeat several patrols of kitins, alone, whereas two years earlier, before his encounter with the Kami, he could only flee from them. Unfortunately, his superhomin power had also intensified the fear these Zorais felt towards him: his black mask, whose significance was known even in these regions far from his native stock, terrified them. The central government's propaganda had clearly born fruit. To top it all off, Pü was cruelly lacking in conviction. Not believing himself in the destiny promised to him, he found himself quite unable of convincing anyone. At times, he even felt he was sabotaging himself.
- "You're monstrous! screamed the homina, as her children's sobs burst into tears. Go away! Leave us alone!"
Pü lowered his mask in defeat.
- "Fine. As you wish. I'm going further west to look for other survivors. I will make sure I come back around here in a few weeks. Remain cautious, and bear in mind that the heights of the trees offer only relative safety: the flying kitins are on the prowl and can attack both at ground level and at altitude."
Pü bowed briefly and jumped from the branch on which the makeshift camp was set up.
- "Don't despair, my boy. I firmly believe that one day soon, some people will be able to see the kind-hearted homin who hides behind that black mask. For deep within your being lies an enlightened soul who wants only the good of his neighbour. I've seen it."
Pü nurtured the hope that the Voice was right. Ever since he left the Eternal Garden, he had seen himself as a liberator, travelling around Atys not to spread the faith in Ma-Duk and wage the Sacred War, but to seek out and gather the survivors of the catastrophe, to protect them from the kitins. Admittedly, before his departure, the Voice had assured him that the Black Kami's will was not to interfere in his decisions, and had therefore strongly encouraged him to follow what his heart dictated. However, after discussing this at length with her, Pü had begun to suspect that the Kami's commitment concerned only choices about the manner in which the Sacred War was to be waged. Perhaps by repeating that he was free to fight this battle in his own way, the divine creature was subtly confirming that he was inevitably obliged to fight it. Uncertain of what the Kami would think of his desire to lead his life differently, and aware of his ability to observe him from a distance, Pü had chosen to hide his true convictions from the homins he had met so far. And in secret, he had simply allowed himself to dream… Saddened by this latest setback, but as resolute as ever, Pü didn't waste a moment and firmly grabbed the first vine within his reach as soon as he landed on the branch below the one hosting the family. Without any further ado, he set off westwards, deeper into the depths of the Shrouded Jungle.
The Dark Jungle was the area of Zoraï country least familiar to the young Zoraï. Located in the north-west, this region owed its name to the colossal shadow cast by the Great Mountain. It was said that its summit, connected to the network of celestial roots running across the skies of Atys, could be seen from the Dragon's Backbone and the Munshia Plateau, situated at the northernmost reaches of the inhabited world. This exceptional size made it difficult for the rays of the Day Star, always at its zenith, to reach the base of the colossal root structure, and explained the tendency of the Zoraïs in the area to suffer from melancholy. As Pü drew closer to its flank, from which he was now only a few dozen kilometres away, his visual horizon was effectively swallowed up by the immense shadow. But for him the weight of sadness was not greater than it usually was. Having spent his childhood in the dark depths of a felled sky-tree stump, Pü found this environment strangely familiar. Almost too familiar for his comfort. On leaving the Eternal Garden, he had planned to head south-west, to search for survivors around the city of Taï-Toon. However, having grown up in this region, he had rejected this very idea. It would have taken him too close to the ancestral stump, which he now saw as a mausoleum. He would visit Taï-Toon another time. He then imagined returning to Zoran. However, knowing that the town might still be inhabited by the Antekami, from whom he had wrested the Black Kami, he thought it unlikely that he would be able to persuade them to follow him. Nor had he any desire to do so. So he set his sights on the most westerly city in the country: Zu-Galam.
Erected on the eastern slope of the Great Mountain, precisely where the Ti-aïn gushed forth, Zu-Galam stood as the most imposing homin fortress in the region. In spite of this, its size hardly distinguished it from the many small towns lining the shores of the vast Temples Lake, and it was far from rivalling Zoran and Taï-Toon. In short, its size was in keeping with the modest population of the Dark Jungle. Zu-Galam, on the other hand, enjoyed national renown, due to the perpetual deposit of exceptional raw materials it harboured, coming from the depths of Atys and rising to the surface through the mountain's veins. The source of the Ti-aïn, which took the form of an impressive waterfall a hundred metres wide, split the town in two and snaked through an imposing system of suspended nets. These nets, of varying mesh sizes, were strategically placed to collect the resources generously offered by the Kamis through the flow of water: fragments of precious amber, indestructible fibres, pieces of ancient bark and valuable seeds. As for the vegetable oils mixed with the water, they were separated by a decantation dam further downstream. Once cleaned and sorted, the resources were transported to Zoran in long river convoys.
Pü, who was just heading up the banks of the Ti-aïn, darting from vine to vine, noticed two wrecks. Curious, he stopped to look at them. Upside down and blocking the river in a shallow section, the stranded barges impeded the natural flow of water, whose oily, iridescent sheen betrayed the collapse of the Zu-Galam dam. And as he looked upstream at the coloured river, other wrecks appeared, even more numerous. At that moment, they were as much reminders of the past disaster as beacons pointing the way toward his future destination.
On the way to Zu-Galam, Pü had pictured several different states in which the city might present itself to him, envisaging various scenarios. The one that dominated his thoughts was inspired by what he had seen of Zoran: a city ravaged by kitins and Karavan bombardments, but still populated by survivors whom he aspired to bring together. None of them, however, had prepared him for the horror of the sight that befell him as he pushed aside the foliage of the branch he was standing on.
Just a few hundred metres away, the once majestic citadel of Zu-Galam, set against the Great Mountain, seemed to have turned into an incessant teeming of legs and thorns: the monstrous creatures had taken possession of the valley and had set up one of their nests in the troglodyte city. Although Pü had already observed kitins' nests over the past three years, he had never seen these creatures settle in a homin city. However, having already witnessed the manoeuvres of the insectoid harvesting armies, he immediately understood why the kitins had settled there: it was to mine the inexhaustible deposit of raw materials present. The idea of an invasion motivated by the theft of surface resources, which had seemed far-fetched to him at the time, had become increasingly plausible over the months, and was now the most convincing explanation. Naturally, during the three years he had spent with the Black Kami, Pü had had the opportunity to question him about the reasons for the invasion. However, the divine creature didn't know the answer. Unless she simply refused to give it to him.
Keen to get closer to the nest so he could get a better look at it, Pü swept his eyes over the valley, looking for the safest route to adopt. But immersed in the darkness, it was difficult to plan anything. True, the thousands of moving chitinous carapaces reflected the rare rays of the Day Star that lit up the region, making it possible to make out the city from relatively far away. But this was not enough. So the Zoraï closed his eyes, regulated his breath and concentrated on his immediate surroundings. The ambient buzzing suggested numerous kitins were flying over the valley. Projecting his new sense beyond the foliage, Pü easily recognised the signature of the abominable fire-breathing dragonflies, the same ones that had initiated the attack on his family stump three years earlier, and which he had fought on many occasions since. Present in large numbers, they moved back and forth between the edge of the jungle and Zu-Galam.
Since he had developed his new sense, Pü had had the opportunity to probe the jungle from top to bottom. He had come to recognise the way sap circulated in the bodies of the different organisms that populated it, and to classify them according to the density of the flow. For the time being, he had identified three main categories: Kamis, characterised by an extremely dense flow, flora and fauna, whose flow was dense, and homins and kitins, endowed with a less dense flow. This classification, established empirically, surprised him at first. Indeed, knowing that all homins were capable of practising magic innately, unlike many species of animals and plants, he had assumed that they would have a profile close to that of the Kamis. These observations led him to re-evaluate many of the prejudices he had held about other species on Atys, as well as the true nature of what a “magical manifestation” could be. As for the kitins, he was still struggling to understand why their profile was so similar to that of homins, when so many factors seemed to distinguish them…
Pü, whose attention was now entirely focused on the flying kitins, tried to delve into the matter. Unfortunately, his train of thought was interrupted by a muffled, sizzling, monotone voice which emerged straight from nothingness.
- "Follow me."
With a start, Pü opened his eyes again. A fourth category was then added to his classification: a Karavan female agent, floating in the void at his height, was now standing in front of him. A multitude of questions immediately sprang to his mind. What could this agent possibly want of him? How had she spotted him? What threat did she represent? Had he become powerful enough to oppose her? And above all, why was there no flow of Sap circulating inside her body, making her completely invisible to his new sense? Pü, who had never had the opportunity to observe so closely an agent, didn't let himself be overwhelmed by more questions. He was immediately captivated by the hominoid entity, the embodiment of the absolute enemy in his culture. His eyes scrutinised the all-black jumpsuit, which hinted at feminine forms without revealing a single square centimetre of skin. The helmet enveloping her head, consisting of a wide white visor and a breathing mask, was concealed beneath a hood. Finally, a black veil draped around her hips resembled a short cape. The whole suit of armour was considerably worn, marked by numerous traces of impact and dirt scattered here and there.
No doubt waiting for an answer, the agent moved forward slightly. Instinctively, the Zoraï's left hand moved to the hilt of his sword. Serene, the agent repeated herself, offering Pü the chance to experience something his parents had already told him about.
- "I said, follow me!"
Her command flapped the back of the Zorai's skull, nearly causing him to lose his balance and fall from his branch. The agent now exuded an aura that was both threatening and fascinating, exerting a psychic pressure on his mind. Although this was the first time Pü experienced a mental attack from an agent, as a Black Warrior of Ma-Duk, he had been trained from childhood to resist such psychic manipulations through long sessions of meditation. Or at least to minimise their impact and quickly regain control, should he ever be confronted by an agent. However, he was aware that a simple homin could not resist one of them indefinitely. But since his encounter with the Kami, he was no longer a simple homin…
- "My boy, at this particular moment, I think it appropriate to advise you to cooperate. You don't know what this agent's plans are, and it's unlikely that you'll be able to escape her if she insists that you accompany her. As for considering attacking her, I urge you not to even consider such an option."
Pü stared at the agent's visor for a few moments, then released the hilt of his sword. One day, he would put his new skills to the test against the Karavan. But that day had not yet come.
- "Right, I'll follow you."
The agent dropped down in altitude and beckoned Pü to join her. He obeyed and calmly climbed down from the dorao on which he was perched. Once on the ground, he realised that being two metres tall, he towered over the agent by several heads. Then he remembered that when in his original form, the Black Kami was even much smaller… Without uttering a word, the agent headed south, walking along the edge of the jungle. Pü, also silent, followed her. On the way, he had another opportunity to examine her in detail: in the end, although there was no Sap flowing through her body, she was for all that not undetectable. The Sap, after all, permeated everything on Atys, including the air. But, as nothing seemed to be able to penetrate the agent's armour, it can be seen as an intense dark spot lost in the middle of an ocean of light. Pü confirmed his observations when he reached his destination, where four other specks of darkness were chatting. They were all standing in front of a strange teardrop-shaped device. Fifteen metres long and five metres at its most bulbous point, this vehicle, which Pü had already observed flying at a distance, was endowed with numerous technological attachments whose function he ignored. It also had side doors, one of which was open at the time. It was the first time Pü was seeing one of Karavan's infernal flying machines at such close proximity.
But something else caught his eye. One of the agents, again a female, was wearing a black and yellow suit of armour, which was also dirty and damaged. Although Karavan armour and devices were generally black, her mother had taught him that certain specialised individuals wore other colours. According to her knowledge, if accurate, the agents dressed in yellow belonged to the Karavan's intelligence corps, responsible for monitoring and exploring Atys. It was rare to come across them. When the agents finally turned towards Pü, he, despite having been trained to have no fear of anything, couldn't help but swallow. If he thought he had a chance against a lone agent, whatever the Voice said, he knew there was nothing he could do against five of them. Neither fight nor flight.
Still silent, Pü observed the five white visors. In a moment of sudden clarity, he remembered the words of Zunak, the antekami leader he had met at Zoran. If the story Zunak had told him was true, he had seen the face of an agent who had been seriously wounded in battle, just after the swarm had ravaged the City-Temple. It was a face that was familiar to him, but which did not correspond to any known homin species. He had also revealed that the agent had immediately begun to suffocate and spit blood once his helmet had been removed, and that his face had rapidly decomposed afterwards. These details, if true, would explain why the agents wore such armour and why there was no flow of Sap circulating through their bodies: unlike all other organisms on Atys, the Sap was toxic to them. This reinforced the theory that the Karavan was extratysian in origin and gave Pü a strategy for attack: if he ever had to face an agent, his best chance would be to succeed in piercing his armour.
The agent in yellow, who had just picked up an object through the side door of the vehicle, moved towards its bulging end and beckoned Pü to come closer. The unusual object she was holding out to him consisted of two identical black tubes connected by a hinge.
- "Take this, on this side. You have to look through it towards Zu-Galam. I need your eyes."
Wary, but compelled, Pü took the object. It was light and cold. Each tube bore at its end a lens made of a particularly clear amber, allowing it to be seen through.
- "You can increase the gap between the two tubes by turning the notched circle between them.... Yes, like that."
Pü adjusted the tubes to the distance between his eyes before pressing the device against his mask. At first, everything he saw was blurred. Then the object made a slight sizzling sound and automatically adjusted itself to his vision. The Zoraï was surprised to realise that he could now observe Zu-Galam as if he were standing right next to it, in full daylight. The agent then took an object no bigger than a finger out of one of her pockets, from which a red beam emanated. She leaned to one side and pointed the object at the city.
- "Good. I'll guide you. Look at the southern gates of the city, outside the walls, near the slope of the Great Mountain. You should see a red dot of light. I'd like you to tell me which of these tunnels lead to the underground levels of Zu-Galam. We'd like to get in there and plant a bomb to kill the kitin queen dwelling there. Our surveying equipment is out of order, so we need information from a local resident."
At these words, Pü mentally prepared to inform the agent that he was not from the area and therefore could not help. Instead, he stopped dead in his tracks. There, in the teeming hustle and bustle of the kitins, on the heights of Zu-Galam, a specimen larger than its fellows caught his eye. If its carapace twinkled with shades of blue and orange, it was above all its legs that singled it out. For he was missing one. It was it.
Many cycles had passed since the first contact between the Ambigus and the Kitins. The primates from the Matrix had infiltrated the Great Egg and destroyed an isolated nest. In response, the Kitin alliance known as the Burning Cloud reformed and invaded the Matrix, thereby shattering the Shell and breaking the immemorial ban on leaving it. As expected, the Ambigus posed little threat compared to the Sterile, despite sharing their scent and morphological characteristics. The latter fought hard to protect the Ambigus, for whom they seemed to be the guardians. But despite their immeasurable power, they were no match for the millions of Kitins who flooded into the Matrix, and the counter-attack quickly turned into a vast escape operation. Only when the vast majority of the Ambigus had fled did the Sterile show off their might, raining down fire on the armies of the Burning Cloud. At the same time, in the depths of the Great Egg, the Primessences awoke and clumsily tried to catch the Burning Cloud from the rear. The unexpected alliance between the Steriles and the Primessences, usually foes, resulted in the annihilation of hundreds of thousands of soldiers and the death of many kitin queens. However, the number of Sterile casualties, although much lower, was sufficient for the Primessences to withdraw, the Steriles to cease their fire assaults, and the surviving queens to declare victory: the Kitins now had a foothold in the Matrix, and nothing could ever drive them back.
That said, winning the war did not ensure the absence of dangers in the conquered territories. Small groups of Steriles continued to threaten the balance, systematically attacking isolated kitin detachments and prowling around the new kitins' nests established in the Matrix. From its promontory, the kinkoo seemed to scan the horizon, its gleaming skull swivelling from left to right, interpreting the chemical signals of the kipestas it had sent on mission. These kipestas, which were numerous, were responsible for navigating between the kitins' nest and the area where five Steriles had been spotted. Although there didn't seem to be enough of them to reach the queen and wipe out the nest, they could still cause serious damage. Once their presence had been detected, the kizarak lord of the kinkoo, who now ruled alongside the queen, ordered him to mobilise all the soldiers in anticipation of an imminent enemy attack. For the kinkoo, the responsibility was immense, commensurate with the role he now played within the kitins' nest as head of the armies. A role he had never actively sought, although he had always secretly longed for it. Neither a kizarak nor a queen, the kinkoo was in effect not a royal kitin, and was therefore not supposed to possess an individual conscience that would allow him to nurture his own dreams. If the royal kitins of the kitins' nest were to find this out, his life would be in jeopardy. So the kinkoo secretly cherished his new status, taking care not to let any hint of emotion leak out in the chemical messages he sent to the other kitins. He knew how lucky he was.
It has to be said that his first mission in the Matrix ended in lacklustre success. True, he had returned victorious, having completed the destruction of every Ambigus' nest his lord had ordered him to destroy. But the occupants of the first of them had been particularly tough, even going so far as to make him doubt himself. Between them, these Ambigus had slaughtered all his kinchers - the subspecies that formed the basic ranks of his soldiers - as well as a number of his kinreys - the elite subspecies to which he belonged - and had even cut off one of his legs. Fortunately, neutralising the following nests was infinitely simpler. So it wasn't so much the kinkoo's intrinsic skills that had propelled him to the rank of army leader, but rather a series of favourable circumstances.
It all began when the most ancient and powerful kizarak lords of his nest were annihilated by a Primessence in a destructive assault on the very heart of the lair, nestled in the depths of the Great Egg. The surviving kizaraks, including his own lord, had then to manage alone the vast nest alongside their queen for several cycles. It was only after the Burning Cloud had declared victory, and the Queen's armies had secured the area of the Matrix intended for her, that she decided to reorganise her territory. For the first time since her own hatching, she decided to lay a queen's egg. Her aim was to found a new kitins' nest in the Matrix to extend her area of influence, without however giving up the ancient nest where she had hatched. Obviously, she knew she was playing a dangerous game, aware that her queen-daughter would one day become independent, and might then decide to turn against her. However, such was the destiny of all kitin queens: to build vast kitins‘ lairs and sire new queens who, in turn, would establish powerful kitins’ lairs, enabling the kitins to dominate the entire Great Egg and, from now on, to colonise the vast unexplored areas of the Matrix.
The egg of the future queen-daughter was laid at the same time as many of the kizarak lords' eggs. While some of these eggs were intended to replace the lords eliminated by the Primessence, to assist the Queen Mother in the reconstruction and governance of her nest, the others were programmed to hatch at the same time as the Queen Daughter and pledge allegiance to her. Among the kizaraks who survived the attack of the Primessence, the lord of the kinkoo was chosen to lead the colony responsible for transporting these eggs to the territory of the Matrix recently acquired by the Queen Mother, with the aim of laying the foundations of the future kitins' nest. His lord had naturally accepted this prestigious mission, which few kizaraks could boast of having the experience to carry out. In addition to extending the Queen's authority, kizarak lords were also responsible for establishing new nests and taking command of them. This role could be exercised indefinitely in the case of an ordinary nest, or, more rarely, on a temporary basis for these destined to evolve into autonomous nests led by their own queen. The kitins had adopted this approach recently in their history, in response to their rapid expansion into the Great Egg, which had led to violent inter-colonial conflicts and the destruction of many isolated nests. So, despite occupying the highest rank in the kitin eusocial pyramid, just below the queen, the kizarak lords were in fact a relatively recent subspecies of kitin. They were the result of one of the last evolutionary strategies employed by queens, whose ability to consciously shape the biological traits of their offspring made them so unique and formidable.
After a short rest in the depths of the Great Egg with his lord, the kinkoo returned with him to the Matrix, proud to be part of this important undertaking. He was appointed to ensure the safety of the colony throughout its journey. A colony made up of his lord, kidinaks responsible for transporting and protecting the royal eggs, a squadron of kipestas messengers and several hundred workers and soldiers. Among them were a large number of kirostas, kitin soldiers of higher rank than the kinchers, easily identifiable by their long, tapered abdomen equipped with a venomous stinger, and recently formed into specialised patrols to hunt down the Ambigus. Arriving at his destination, the kinkoo realised that the place where the colony was to be established had been judiciously chosen, given the profusion of raw materials that this former Ambigus nest had brought up from the depths of the Great Egg. Enough to build solid foundations and provide highly nutritious food additives for the larvae to be born. The kinkoo was present when the egg of the one who was to become his new queen hatched, a moment of intense emotion that he barely managed to conceal from his lord, who himself was fortunately too absorbed in the event. The cycles that followed were uneventful, and the kitins' nest developed rapidly. The young kizaraks and the new queen reached maturity without a hitch, served and protected by an armada of devoted kidinaks, small ovoid kitins whose existence was entirely devoted to the service of the royal kitins, and confined to a specially adapted environment by the workers obeying the lord of the kinkoo. Until the queen daughter would begin laying her own eggs, the kizarak was responsible for developing the nest. So, as the personal enforcer of the kizarak lord who founded the nest, the kinkoo was promoted to lead its armies. Sitting temporarily at the side of the queen-daughter, his lord kizarak occupied a position that was both complex and prestigious, responsible for guiding the young queen and keeping the queen-mother informed of her actions. The kinkoo was aware that the growing independence of the new queen he served, and the emergence of the future kizarak lords she would spawn, could one day threaten his lord's life. Nevertheless, he preferred not to dwell on this thought.
Especially at this precise time, when five Steriles were threatening to attack the kitins' lair. Five Steriles and one Ambigu. That was the new chemical information he had just received from a kipesta. At this moment, the kinkoo was cursing the inadequacy of his sensory systems for the vast expanses of the Matrix and the resulting dependence on the kipestas for intelligence gathering. Knowing that kitins were evolving very rapidly, he was convinced that future generations would be equipped with far more advanced visual organs. This was already the case for the latest kitins to be hatched. However, he himself would never benefit from such improvements.
Five Steriles and one Ambigu, then. But not just any Ambigu. According to the last message he'd received, his scent was similar to that of the two Ambigus who had cut off his leg many cycles earlier, inside the first nest he'd destroyed. Consumed by rage at the humiliation these primates had inflicted on him, he believed then he had eliminated each and every one of them. Obviously, he was wrong: at least one had survived.
One had survived, and was now heading at full speed towards the kitins' lair. Was this the start of the enemy assault? Possibly. Three of the Sterile had taken off in their turn, while two others had hurried back to their flying mounts. Without further ado, the kinkoo ordered the kipestas around him to pass on the battle orders. Shortly afterwards, the lair expelled a torrent of kinchers and kirostas who rushed towards the enemy. The kinkoo knew that many of his soldiers would soon be reduced to dust by the Sterile, but that was their function. Recently, having reached a new level of individual consciousness, the kitin general had briefly felt empathy for the lower-ranking kitins. This was the first time. While he himself projected himself into the future alongside his lord and queen, whose longevity was high, these were condemned to live only a few cycles. As soon as them dead, as soon replaced. However, this disturbing thought did not trouble the kinkoo for long. For he immediately understood that this was their role. They were merely pawns, manoeuvred by the royal kitins in accordance with the queen's supreme plans. And in the end, wasn't that what he himself was? A non-royal kitin, condemned to live according to the wishes of his lord and queen? In a way, yes. But…
A new message, forcing the kinkoo to refocus his attention on the fight: five Steriles, one Ambigu and one Primessence. Erratic electrical impulses ran through his ventral nerve chain and the heat in his haemolymph rose slightly.
The situation was becoming increasingly complex.
Pü was speeding towards Zu-Galam. Thanks to his new senses, he could anticipate the movements of the Karavan agents chasing him - three dark silhouettes standing out in the light - even though their backs were to him. The other two agents, who had rushed into the flying vehicle, were following them from the air without attacking him. The valley leading to the citadel, sparsely wooded, offered few hiding places. As a result, the Zorai could only rely on his keen senses and exceptional agility to dodge the fire of the three agents chasing him. These energy shots, which were not very concentrated, did not seem to be intended to kill him, but rather to neutralise him.
As soon as Pü had recognised the blue-orange kitin, his commitment to gather and protect the homins who had fallen victims of the disaster was eclipsed by the old promise he had made to himself: to exterminate all the kitins of Atys. For this kitin was responsible for all his misfortunes. He was certain that it was precisely against this kitin that his father and uncle had fought and died. The nightmarish vision of his elders, chest to chest, their torsos pierced by the creature's severed leg, was still etched on his retinas. Then came the image of his brother's head. Then the inert body of his mother. This kitin, the largest of the swarm that had decimated his tribe and the last to emerge from the rift, had been designated by his father as the commander of the monstrous army. Although nothing came to confirm this assumption, seeing him dominate the other kitins from the summit of Zu-Galam seemed to validate the importance of the role he was playing, while also underlining the difficulty of reaching him: before he could be reached, Pü would have to get rid of several hundred soldiers.
The first to come into contact with him were kipestas, the same ones he had observed a little earlier going back and forth between the edge of the jungle and Zu-Galam. Having learnt over the last few months that most kitins dread the cold, he had no trouble getting them to back off. But this was only temporary. Despite their wounds, the flying creatures kept coming back, trying to inflict violent blows with their tails and to hit him with their flames. Between the incessant gunfire from the agents and the growing number of kipestas massing above him, reaching his target was proving to be an extremely arduous task. Although he was well aware of this, he had no intention of listening to the Voice begging him to turn back. Nothing could dissuade him from carrying out his vengeance. Not his inner voice, nor the sizzling cries of the agents ordering him to stop, and whose attempts at mental control had lost all effectiveness on him. In this moment of intense anger, his will was unshakeable. It was true that the Voice and the Black Kami had helped him to appease the hatred that had consumed him after he had left the family stump. But he was far from being completely healed. The calm, measured Zorai he had once been had long since died.
Shortly afterwards, when the foundations of the citadel began to shake in the distance, Pü realized that a gigantic army of kitins had been arrayed on the ground. It was heading straight for him and would reach him in just some dozen seconds. Or rather, reach the Karavan agents, who represented a far greater threat. Still chasing him, they still hadn't managed to neutralize the Zoraï, and now faced a cloud of unleashed kipestas, which turned to ash with each successful shot. This was probably his chance. Sneak through the mass and let the agents take all the attention. Even so, it was unlikely that the walking kitins would let him pass quietly. If only he could fly like the kipestas. Then he could fly straight to the top of Zu-Galam. Pü had this thought as he leapt from the top of an embankment. And as if by a miracle, he took off.
Unsettled, Pü didn't immediately perceive the pressure gripping his back and waist. Thinking a kipesta had just grasped him, he raised his head and readied to push the creature away. But instead of the monstrous dragonfly, he discovered a huge black bird trapping him in one of its talons. It took the Zoraï no time at all to feel in his flesh that this was the Black Kami, metamorphosed. As they rapidly gained altitude, he assumed that the Kami had come to assist him in his pursuit, even though it had nothing to do with the Sacred War. Intoxicated by the sensation of flying, and elated by the divine creature's decision, Pü couldn't hold back a laugh. He was overcome by a mixture of relief and excitement. Relieved to know that, against all odds, the Kami supported his choices. Excited at the idea that he'd be able to get to his family's executioner more easily than expected. Unsheathing his sword, the Zoraï stared at the summit of Zu-Galam, scanning the gloom for blue-orange reflections. He was ready. At the same time, below him, the creeping army, shimmering with yellowish, white and green hues, was rushing towards the retreating Karavan agents, while the flying vehicle had pulled away and begun its pursuit of the Kami.
Then, suddenly, the horizon swung to the left. Enough so that Pü could no longer watch Zu-Galam without twisting his neck. The Kami was about to make a U-turn. Once the few seconds of incredulity had passed, the Zoraï protested:
- "No! I have to get to the top of Zu-Galam! You're heading in the wrong direction!"
No response from the Voice. The immense bird was was speeding up and gaining altitude. Was it because of the flying machine that had been chasing them, and was now catching up, that the Kami had decided to turn back? Overcome by a new wave of anger, Pü began to struggle.
- "Take care of the infernal Karavan machine if you feel like it, but carry me to Zu-Galam first!"
It was the first time he was addressing the Kami in this tone. And the fact that the Voice had given him no reply, despite having besieged him with entreaties when he had decided to head for Zu-Galam, only fueled his fury. The flush of positive emotion he'd felt earlier was now replaced by a dull hatred. Losing all reason, Pü began to strike the bird's legs with his sword. But the divine creature had no reaction. The Zorai screamed.
- "I order you to let go of me! Do you hear me? Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!"
!!! WIP !!!
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Последнее редактирование было из Nilstilar на 17.10.2024Les premiers tirs de la machine karavanière frôlèrent l’oiseau, qui réussit à les esquiver en exécutant quelques pirouettes habiles. Malgré les violentes secousses, Pü tentait désespérément de se libérer de la puissante serre qui l'enserrait, en multipliant les coups d'épée. Confronté à l'inefficacité de ses attaques physiques, il se tourna vers l’incantation de puissants sorts élémentaires, qui se révélèrent tout aussi inutiles. Entre les griffes du Kami, il se sentait insignifiant, impuissant sur tous les plans. Mais sa volonté, elle, demeurait intacte. Guidé par l'instinct, Pü agrippa un des serres avec sa main libre et ferma les yeux. Sans savoir d'où l'idée lui venait, il se sentit soudain capable d'investir l'esprit du Kami et de le dominer. Alors, durant un court moment, l'oiseau vacilla. Puis, la serre chauffa. Si intensément que Pü, plus surpris que blessé, fut contraint de la relâcher.
« Mon garçon, il est vain de poursuivre. Vous feriez mieux de renoncer. »
Entendre la Voix s’exprimer enfin ne fit qu'accroître davantage la colère de Pü.
« Tu es si bavarde lorsqu’il s’agit de m'empêcher d’agir, et si absente lorsque j’ai besoin de communiquer avec le Kami ! Dis-lui de me relâcher !
– Le Kami ne vous relâchera pas, mon garçon. Cela pourrait vous coûter la vie.
– Alors qu’il me dépose, peu importe ! Je dois atteindre Zu-Galam ! Je dois tuer ce kitin et venger ma famille !
– Vous êtes bien trop sagace pour croire que la vengeance apaisera vos tourments, mon garçon. N'aviez-vous pas découvert une vocation, il y a quelques semaines ? Celle d’aider vos semblables à survivre aux nouveaux dangers de ce monde ? C'est cette quête qui vous permettra de reprendre le cours de votre existence et de vous reconstruire.
– Que tu vives dans ma tête ne signifie pas que tu sais ce qui est bon pour moi ! Ton rôle est de me transmettre les paroles du Kami. Là est tout unique raison d’être ! Tu m’entends ? Demande-lui de me déposer quelque part !
– Le Kami vous entend, mon garçon, répondit la Voix, désormais empreinte de tristesse. Il affirme qu'il ne vous laissera pas approcher Zu-Galam. Que les risques sont bien trop grands.
– Je me fiche de savoir ce qu’il veut ! C’est ma vie ! Tu m’entends ? Ma vie ! Si je dois la risquer en voulant venger ma famille, c’est mon choix ! »
La Voix se tut soudain. L'oiseau, ayant franchi les branches inférieures de la Grande Montagne, accéléra brusquement. Il zigzaguait entre les feuilles gigantesques, tentant de semer le véhicule volant de la Karavan.
« Je ne vous pardonnerai jamais ! Jamais je n’aurai dû libérer le Kami des Antékamis ! Jamais je n’aurais dû te laisser s'immiscer aussi profondément dans ma tête ! Je ne laisserai personne se dresser comme un obstacle à ma vie ! Ni toi, ni lui ! » parvint à crier Pü, malgré la puissance du vent qui lui fouettait désormais le masque.
C’est une voix hésitante qui reprit la parole.
« Mon garçon, souvenez-vous de nos discussions, de nos réflexions sur la possibilité que le Kami Noir vous oblige à mener la Guerre Sacrée ? Selon ce qu'il vient de m'indiquer, il se désintéresse de savoir si vous choisirez de protéger les innocents que vous croiserez ou de combattre les fidèles de la Karavan sur votre chemin. Pour mener la Guerre Sacrée, il vous suffit de vivre… de vivre selon vos propres termes.
– Si c’est réellement le cas, alors qu’il me ramène à Zu-Galam !
– Non mon garçon, vous n'avez pas saisi. Pour mener la Guerre Sacrée, vous devez simplement vivre, vivre sans chercher à mourir.
– Mourir ? C’est vous qui vous êtes persuadés que je courrai à la mort ! Vous doutez de mes capacités ! J’aurais pu semer les agents de la Karavan, éviter les kitins mineurs, me faufiler à travers Zu-Galam et affronter le monstre qui a décimé ma famille ! Je ne suis pas fou ! »
Pü s'entendit prononcer ces mots, qui résonnèrent aussitôt comme un aveu. Fou ? Non, malade serait mot plus exact. Il était parfaitement conscient de ses tendances suicidaires, ayant plusieurs fois envisagé de mettre fin à ses jours. Il en avait largement discuté avec la Voix et avait même tenté de se suicider une première fois lors de son ultime duel avec le Kami. Jusqu'à présent, il avait réussi à identifier ces crises pour ce qu'elles étaient. Alors, avait-il réellement tenté aujourd’hui de se tuer à nouveau ? Était-il à ce point aveugle ? Pü balaya de son esprit ces questions dérangeantes. Que ce soit la folie ou la maladie, il avait le droit d'espérer, de tenter, d’échouer. Après tout, c'était de sa vie dont il s’agissait. Elle lui appartenait. Absorbé par cette réflexion, il ne réalisa que tardivement qu'il avait lâché et perdu son épée. Ses pensées étaient confuses et ses membres étaient lourds. Il peina à articuler :
« C’est… C’est ma vie. Elle m’appartient.
– Mon garçon… Comment vous l'exprimer, souffla la Voix, visiblement accablée. Veuillez m'excuser pour la cruauté de mes mots, mais hélas, votre vie ne vous appartient plus. Ce sont les mots du Kami. À ses yeux, vous n'êtes pas Pü, fils de Looï et Sang Fu-Tao. Vous êtes le Guerrier Sacré. Vous appartenez aux Kamis. C'est pour cela qu'il empêchera toute tentative de votre part de mettre fin à vos jours, quoi qu'il advienne. »
Pü ne pouvait plus prononcer aucun mot. Son corps ne lui obéissait plus et il peinait à maintenir sa concentration. Ainsi, sa vie appartenait aux Kamis ? Il était devenu leur propriété ? Un esclave prophète au service de leur cause ?
« Pour prévenir toute action de votre part lorsqu'il se téléportera avec vous, le Kami a plongé votre corps dans un état de sommeil. Il ne pouvait pas, pour des raisons qui m'échappent, se téléporter à proximité de la Karavan. Il devait d'abord les distancer, ce qui est désormais accompli. »
À ces mots, l'oiseau émergea des derniers feuillages, déployant ses immenses ailes noires pour ralentir sa course. Au-dessus, illuminé par l’astre maudit de Jena, le ciel flamboyait de mille feux. La lumière crue contrastait fortement avec l’obscurité de la Jungle Enténébrée, à jamais engloutie sous l’épais branchage de la Grande Montagne. Malgré sa paralysie, Pü était pleinement conscient et émerveillé par la vue du réseau de racines de la Canopée qui s'entrelaçait autour de lui, un spectacle que sans doute aucun homin n'avait jamais observé de si près. En d'autres circonstances, la splendeur de ce panorama aurait sans doute éveillé en lui un sentiment d'allégresse. Malheureusement, les conditions présentes ne firent que nourrir son cœur d’une profonde mélancolie. Voler si haut, loin des conflits d'Atys et de son existence matérielle, aurait dû symboliser une échappée vers la liberté. Mais il avait été éveillé à la réalité de sa condition : non pas libre, mais enchaîné. Un être condamné à vivre. Il n'était qu’une pièce sur un plateau, manipulée par les Kamis selon les desseins divins et cachés de Ma-Duk.
— Bélénor Nébius, narrator
| ◄ Chapter II·III - The fire and the ice | Table of contents | Chapter II·V - The Fortunate and the Called ► |
