He woke, tired, and he began prowling through the island he called home. He was in no hurry,
but there was a presence he hadn't felt since back in the ice age. He could hear the screams of
those dying in agony, the roar of a vicious titanic beast, and he felt the fire that burned the
innocents. He heard and felt this not with his senses, but through his bones. His hands held his
head as the sounds began to make him feel woozy. Of course, there were no such sounds
echoing through the sky, but he could still hear these demonic sounds. Letting out a soft growl,
he began to kneel down to the ground. His large palm descended to the ground, trying to feel a
vibration through the stone under his feet. He knew that none of the others were behind this
and that this was a time of peace between them. But he had to be sure that there were no ill
intentions. Nothing, no movement, no ill intent, no threat of an attack. A relaxing sigh escaped
his maw as he stood back up. It was clear to him that what he felt wasn't the doing of the others,
but a much more powerful and unnatural force. An old enemy. He simply growled and began walking.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
The Island of the Lost 2
FantasíaIt has been a millennia since The Guardian fought against Akunomura. Ever since the event called the "Chicago Rumble" the world has now been made aware that giant monsters and other worldly creatures are among them. The Guardian re-emerges, and coll...
