The journey northwest progressed more slowly than Alexander had expected.

  The savanna did not change all at once. It shifted gradually. The grasses grew taller and harsher, brushing against their flanks as they moved. The ground was no longer flat; low ridges rose ahead of them, then dipped into shallow depressions filled with softer soil. The wind carried a faint trace of moisture, subtle, but noticeable.

  The wounded slowed their pace. One Nuxali dragged his hind leg. Another avoided putting weight on his damaged shoulder. The Queen advanced with controlled steps, yet the stiffness in her movement betrayed her injury. No one complained. No one broke formation.

  Alexander walked in silence, conserving what little energy he had. Adaptive Regrowth was still draining him, and the grasses he occasionally consumed did little to quiet his hunger. The land ahead felt unfamiliar. Less open. More layered. The horizon was no longer broken only by sparse acacias, but by clusters of trees with broader crowns.

  When they crested a shallow rise, the terrain opened into a low valley.

  At its center lay a wide, muddy pool of water.

  Its edges were trampled. Deep, rounded impressions marked the wet soil, signs of massive bodies.

  Large silhouettes moved within the water.

  They resembled hippopotamuses, but they were larger and more armored. Their hides were blue, with subtle ridges running along their shoulders and backs like natural plating. When one of them partially rose from the water, it opened its jaws to their full extent. Long, curved bony protrusions extended upward from the lower jaw, and a thick single horn sat upon its snout. The sound it released was not a simple grunt, it was a territorial warning that vibrated across the entire basin.

  At least eight adults remained submerged in the water. Two juveniles rolled in the shallows, splashing mud across their backs. Another adult was nearly fully submerged; only its eyes and nostrils broke the surface of the murky water.

  They appeared at ease.

  Beyond the water, within taller grasses, a second pack moved.

  They resembled giraffes, but were more heavily built. Their necks were not slender, but muscular. Bony dorsal ridges extended upward from their shoulders, reinforcing the length of their necks. Their heads were angular, bearing short horn-like protrusions. Their legs were long but thick, designed more for balance than for pure speed.

  The giraffe-like creatures plucked leaves from broad-crowned trees, tearing foliage free with slow, deliberate movements.

  Alexander studied both packs carefully, the armored water-dwellers and the long-necked land herbivores.

  This new territory was not empty.

  And neither pack appeared to be easy prey.

  After assessing the scene, the Queen seemed to reach the same conclusion.

  The swarm was wounded. They did not have the strength for another confrontation.

  Even so, she chose to descend into the valley.

  The swarm began moving down the small ridge in slow, uneven steps.

  Loose stones shifted beneath their claws. Dry soil crumbled under their weight. They did not rush. The Queen maintained a measured pace.

  When they reached the valley floor, formation remained intact.

  The massive hippo-like creatures noticed them immediately.

  Deep, vibrating grunts rolled across the low basin. One raised its head higher, nostrils flaring, bony tusks glinting in the light. Another shifted in the mud, creating a heavy splash that sent ripples across the water’s surface.

  But they did not charge.

  They did not advance.

  Half-submerged, they simply watched. Territorial, but not provoked.

  The long-necked herbivore pack reacted differently.

  Many stopped feeding. Heads rose in unison. Two large males moved slightly toward the center. The distance between the juveniles narrowed. Muscular necks lowered subtly, horned protrusions aligning toward the approaching Nuxali.

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  They had gathered tightly and were prepared for any threat.

  Alexander saw that both packs were currently beyond their ability to handle. The Queen saw it as well. Her mental pressure sharpened for a brief moment as she weighed the risks.

  Then she chose restraint.

  The swarm did not approach the water.

  They did not move toward the long-necked pack either.

  Instead, they advanced along the edge of the valley, following a line parallel to both packs but keeping their distance. The water creatures continued their low grumbling, yet the Nuxali did not enter their territory. The long-necked pack maintained a tight formation until the Nuxali had passed beyond immediate threat range.

  Only when the Nuxali moved farther away did the tension ease.

  They had not gone far from the herbivores’ range when small shadows darted through the brush.

  Savanna hares.

  Long-eared, slender, built for speed.

  Several Nuxali lunged on instinct. Two hunters broke formation and made their move.

  The hares scattered instantly.

  One zigzagged into denser grass. Another vanished into a narrow burrow. A third leapt sideways at the last second, causing the pursuing Nuxali to miss completely.

  The attempts failed.

  The Queen immediately recalled the hunters.

  This kind of prey was an energy loss.

  The swarm reformed and continued forward.

  Two or three hours passed as the sun slowly shifted. The terrain flattened again. The grasses thinned, and the open savanna widened. The wind moved more freely.

  Then movement appeared ahead.

  Not scattered.

  Not small.

  A pack.

  Dozens of slender bodies moved across the open plain in synchronized rhythm. Long legs. Graceful yet lightly muscled frames. Narrow heads dipping to graze and rising again.

  A gazelle-like pack.

  Their bodies were blue, their eyes crimson, but the most striking feature was the fan-shaped bony structure rising from their heads.

  They were built for speed and endurance.

  The sight triggered the hunger instinct in every Nuxali.

  Heads lifted. Muscles tensed. Breathing patterns shifted.

  Hunger sharpened.

  Even the wounded straightened slightly.

  Alexander felt it too, a tightening in his chest. Instinct and calculation activated at once.

  They were not armored.

  They were not massive.

  They had not formed a tight defensive ring.

  This was prey.

  And every Nuxali knew it.

  For the first time since the battle, excitement rippled through the swarm.

  The blue-bodied gazelle pack was still grazing when the Queen moved.

  There was no roar. No physical signal.

  Only the pressure in the air suddenly tightened.

  The Prime Queen drew her mental force inward. For a brief moment, the psychic pressure over the Nuxali drones thinned, just slightly. The constant guiding weight that kept them aligned loosened.

  Then she directed all of it forward.

  A concentrated, crushing wave of Neural Overpressure erupted from her mind and slammed into the gazelle pack.

  It was invisible.

  But devastating.

  Those with weaker wills reacted first. Panic detonated in their minds. Muscles locked. Hearts spiked. Several bolted in completely wrong directions, colliding with one another.

  The stronger-minded resisted, but not fully. Their reflexes lagged for a fraction of a second. Hooves struck the ground a beat too late. Heads turned a breath too slow.

  Most importantly,

  The pack’s coordination shattered.

  Their rhythm broke.

  Instead of exploding outward as one unified mass, chaos took hold. Some ran left. Others veered right. Two slammed shoulder to shoulder. One stumbled. Another froze entirely, its thoughts crushed beneath invisible mental pressure.

  The assault lasted only seconds.

  But seconds were enough.

  The Nuxali did not wait for orders.

  They felt the opening instinctively.

  Muscles tightened. Bodies lowered.

  And they launched forward.

  The distance was still significant. The gazelles were built for speed, and as soon as the mental disruption faded, instinct returned. Long legs flashed across the savanna. Blue bodies streamed toward the horizon.

  They were fast.

  Too fast for a normal pursuit.

  But the Queens had calculated that.

  Slightly behind the Prime Queen, not joining the initial charge, the Second Queen had remained still. Silent.

  While Neural Overpressure destabilized the prey, she had been weaving something deeper.

  Now she released it.

  Complex mental signals flooded into the minds of the hunters within her influence.

  Not pressure.

  Activation.

  Fear centers. Aggression triggers. Dopamine release pathways. Adrenaline systems. At once, she projected flashes of falling prey, flowing blood, completed kills, images of survival and dominance.

  The hunters’ brains responded instantly.

  Metabolic Surge ignited.

  Their bodies flooded with hormonal chaos.

  Strength poured into their limbs. Their strides lengthened. Their breathing deepened without burning. Pain signals dulled. Tearing muscle fibers were ignored.

  Their vision sharpened.

  The world narrowed to the movement ahead.

  The cost would come later.

  Now, they were unleashed.

  Fatigue retreated beneath chemical intensity.

  They targeted the nearest gazelles, those whose rhythm had not fully recovered.

  One male had drifted slightly from the pack.

  That was enough.

  Two Nuxali angled in behind him, forcing his path toward a shallow rise. The gazelle leapt, landing off-balance.

  One hunter within the hormonal storm launched.

  Its weight slammed into the gazelle’s flank. Another clamped onto its hind leg. Momentum dragged them all into a rolling collapse.

  First kill.

  Elsewhere, three hunters did not chase directly, they forced sharp directional shifts. Each abrupt turn drained speed. One gazelle faltered, and teeth closed around its throat.

  Second.

  A third fell with a crack of bone as a Nuxali collided into its ribs.

  Fourth.

  As Metabolic Surge began to fade, four blue bodies lay motionless across the savanna.

  The remaining pack vanished into the horizon.

  The Nuxali slowed.

  Then staggered.

  Metabolic Surge withdrew mercilessly. Muscles trembled. Breathing burned. Pain flooded back all at once.

  But they had succeeded.

  Four.

  And for the first time since the hyena battle, the swarm stood not on the edge of survival,

  But on victory.

  The Queens remained behind.

  Watching.

  And this time, they were at ease.

  The swarm had pulled itself back from the brink of extinction.

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