Chapter 6: The Angle of the Cut

“Inori, find a defensible clearing nearby and set up the perimeter. Kaguya, gather dry kindling and get a fire started. We need to dry out and prepare for meat.”

With Takuya’s orders issued, the eldest brother slipped silently into the undergrowth to set his snares.

Left to their tasks, Kaguya adjusted his glasses, scanning the dappled sunlight of the subcanopy. “I will head south,” he told Inori. “The topography slopes downward, suggesting a higher accumulation of deadfall and dry, broad leaves. It should yield optimal kindling.”

Inori nodded, his eyes already analyzing the surrounding trees for a tactical campsite. “Agreed. I’ll scout a perimeter with overlapping sightlines near the center. Don’t wander too far.”

Kaguya ventured south, his boots crunching softly against the terrestrial ferns. The air here was breathable, familiar, a stark contrast to the suffocating ozone of the giant canopy they had left behind. He found a dense cluster of deadfall near the base of a massive, gnarled tree and knelt to begin his collection.

He picked up a thick, dry branch, ready to snap it over his knee. But as his fingers ran over the wood, he stopped.

Kaguya brought the branch closer to his face, his clinical eyes narrowing. The end of the branch hadn’t broken off naturally in a storm. It hadn’t been gnawed by the flat teeth of a large herbivore, nor splintered by rot.

The surface was perfectly flat. The angle of the separation was a sheer, clean forty-five degrees.

Kaguya dropped the branch and frantically began digging through the pile of deadfall. He pulled out another piece of wood. A clean cut. He found a thicker log. The bark was stripped, and deep, distinct V-shaped notches were carved into its side.

Tool marks, Kaguya’s mind raced. High-velocity, wedged impacts. These weren’t broken; they were chopped.

He stood up, his heart hammering against his ribs in a rare display of elevated adrenaline. He examined the surrounding trees. Several saplings in the area had been harvested, their stumps bearing the exact same sheer, angled cuts.

It was undeniable proof. No animal possessed the biomechanics to create a cleanly severed branch. This required an external wedge, applied with calculated kinetic force. A blade.

A massive, unrestrained grin broke across Kaguya’s usually stoic face. Civilization wasn’t just a possibility; it was a localized reality.

He swiftly gathered a massive bundle of the chopped wood, tying it to his back with a vine, and practically sprinted back to the rendezvous coordinates.

When he broke through the brush, Inori had already cleared a circular area and was arranging a fire ring of stones. Inori looked up, noticing his younger brother’s heavy breathing and the uncharacteristic smile. “What happened? You look like you just isolated a new stem cell.”

Kaguya unslung the bundle of wood, dropping it at Inori’s feet. “Look at the striations on the ends of the kindling.”

Inori picked up a branch, his brow furrowing. It took his engineering mind exactly two seconds to process the geometry. He dropped the wood, his eyes widening behind his glasses. “Sheer force. A bladed implement.”

“Exactly,” Kaguya beamed. “We are in close proximity to human—or at least, tool-wielding bipedal—civilization.”

“We’re almost there!” Inori shouted, throwing a fist into the air, the heavy weight of their isolation instantly lifting from his shoulders. Kaguya nodded, sharing the profound, silent relief. They weren’t going to die alone in the dirt.

But the jungle rarely allowed for celebration.

A loud, piercing scream shattered the air.

It wasn’t the roar of a beast. It was human. Female. And it was laced with absolute, primal terror.

Instantly, the hair on Kaguya and Inori’s arms stood on end. They grabbed their charred bamboo spears, backing up against each other.

“Did you hear that?” Inori whispered, his knuckles turning white around his spear.

Before Kaguya could answer, the air near the edge of the clearing began to warp. It looked like a heat mirage, a distortion of the light, before the colors aggressively shifted from vibrant forest green to a dull, predatory grey.

A camouflage mechanic, Inori’s mind scrambled to comprehend the biological impossibility. Active chromatophores?

“No way,” Kaguya startled, taking a half-step back as a massive wolf fully materialized from the thin air, its yellow eyes locked onto them.

Suddenly, from behind a thick tree to their left, a woman burst into the clearing. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, with distinct, sharp Caucasian features, pale skin, and light eyes. She wore rugged, primitive clothing made of expertly stitched leathers and woven green fibers.

But her leather tunic was soaked in fresh blood. Her right shoulder had been deeply lacerated.

She stumbled forward, her eyes wide with exhaustion, running from whatever was behind the tree. A second later, the underbrush exploded.

Not one, but seven more massive wolves poured into the clearing, their camouflage rippling off them as they moved in for the kill.

“This is suicide,” Kaguya gritted his teeth, his analytical mind instantly calculating the odds. One giant wolf was lethal. Eight was a massacre.

The woman took three more staggering steps before her knees buckled. Blood loss and exhaustion claimed her. She collapsed into the dirt, entirely defenseless.

Kaguya lunged forward to drag her to safety, but the first wolf instantly cut him off. It didn’t attack; it simply blocked his path, lowering its head and staring at him with a chilling, arrogant intelligence. It looked at the surgeon not as a threat, but as pathetic prey.

Furious, Kaguya shouted, thrusting his bamboo spear directly at the beast’s chest.

The wolf didn’t even flinch. It casually swayed its massive neck to the side, letting the spear tip pass harmlessly over its shoulder, its lips curling back in a mocking snarl. It was playing with him.

Seeing the opening, Inori sprinted past the distracted wolf, dropping to his knees beside the fallen woman. He immediately pressed his hands hard against her torn shoulder, applying brutal pressure to stem the arterial bleeding.

“Stay with me!” Inori yelled, though he knew she couldn’t understand him.

He looked up. The pack had completely surrounded them. The wolves paced in a tight, tightening circle, their yellow eyes gleaming. They weren’t rushing. They were savoring the fear, playing with their food before the slaughter.

Inori tightened his grip on the woman’s shoulder. This is it, he thought, a cold wave of acceptance washing over him. We survived the crash, the jungle, the monkeys… just to die a hundred yards from civilization.

Then, a new sound tore through the clearing.

It was a battle cry—deep, rhythmic, and incredibly fierce.

From the southern tree line, four figures erupted into the camp. They were warriors, clad in the same stitched leathers as the woman, moving with devastating, synchronized speed.

But it wasn’t their speed that caught Inori’s eye. It was the weapons in their hands.

Smooth, perfectly flat, and reflecting the dappled sunlight. Metal.

With a single, fluid motion, the lead warrior swung a heavy, beautifully forged steel machete. The blade carved through the air, cleanly decapitating the wolf that had been mocking Kaguya.

Before the pack could react to the ambush, the other three warriors crashed into their ranks. It was a masterclass in civilized violence. In less than five seconds, six of the massive beasts lay dead in the dirt, their blood staining the terrestrial ferns.

Realizing the sudden shift in power, the remaining two wolves scrambled backward, dodging the steel blades.

The four warriors didn’t pursue. They immediately fell back, forming a tight, impenetrable defensive circle around Inori and the bleeding woman. They raised their machetes, their eyes locked on the tree line.

The surviving wolves paced just outside the circle of steel. They weren’t retreating. They were waiting.

“Brother! At your back!” Kaguya’s frantic scream suddenly shattered the standoff.

Inori whipped his head around. Bursting from the northern tree line was Takuya, carrying the massive carcass of a unicorn-boar. But directly behind him, the air violently tore open.

The Alpha. It was twice the size of the others, decloaking mid-leap, its jaws aimed directly at Takuya’s neck.

Inori held his breath, but Takuya didn’t freeze. The eldest brother threw his body weight to the right, violently heaving the heavy, bleeding boar carcass directly into the Alpha’s path.

The decoy worked. The Alpha’s jaws snapped around the dead boar, pinning it to the ground.

Inori immediately looked at the two warriors nearest to him. He pointed fiercely at the distracted Alpha.

The warriors understood instantly. With a sharp nod, they broke the defensive circle, lunging forward as one. Their machetes flashed in the sunlight, coming down in a synchronized, brutal strike that ended the giant Alpha instantly.

Seeing their leader fall, the last two wolves finally broke. They melted back into their shifting, active camouflage, vanishing into the deep jungle.

The camp fell dead silent, save for the heavy panting of the warriors and the crackle of the unlit kindling underfoot.

Kaguya slowly lowered his spear. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his clinical composure returning. He looked across the bloody clearing and caught Takuya’s eye.

No words were needed. Kaguya looked at the dead wolves, then at the forged steel dripping in the warriors’ hands, and finally gave Takuya a slow, definitive nod.

Takuya smiled back. The evidence was undeniable. Civilization was here.