CHAPTER 1

2067.

October 20th.

A tiny habitat made of wood and leaves stands in a dense forest, in the dead of night. The moon shines bright, only when denying the thick layer of black clouds covering the stars. The trees are huge, above the thirty feet mark. Rays of light dimmed through the branches, and through the makeshift habitat. Inside it resides a man nearing his forties, sitting in a ball position, looking around for any signs of a threat. He wears a white coat that reaches to his kneecaps, a rebellious shirt with incomprehensible markings, a mask, goggles, and black jeans stained with brown and green from sitting on muddy waters and wet grass. His untrimmed beard is peaking through his face wear. He's been here for days. He looks exhausted behind the facial protection, looking left and right, sometimes upwards.

He scans his bag, reaching for food. He's on the verge of starving, only one protein bar left. He's sweaty, panting with every breath he takes.

He is so close to reaching his goals. He is so close to reaching the desert area that was once Manhattan. Yet, a thought is bothering him, paralyzing him. Somebody is following him.

He hears the wind being moved by rapid steps outside his refuge. The man shivers, whispering "oh no!". He's now trembling, barely able to contain himself. He reaches again for his bag, but this time unlocks another section with a zipper to unveil three cubes with markings on each: Three rounds superposed on each other; a star; and a cloud. He stares at those cubes with uncertainty, his hands shaky thanks to the anxiety. He hears something land on the floor. It sounds powerful, as if someone in armor had landed on his feet. The man's panic multiplies tenfold. He knows exactly who landed.

A voice follows this landing. "If I were you, I wouldn't waste more of my time, and I'd get out of there, dr. Riley J. Smith."

The doctor's survival instincts kicks in. He hastily places the cubes back in his bag and leaves the shack to dash away from his predator, not giving a glance towards the one speaking such words.

Riley wears a ridiculous-looking pair of iron boots. He found them in a deserted scrapyard one day and customized them to have spikes and boosters installed. He effectively turned them into rocket boots that helps him move faster and hover in the air for a short amount of time.

It's what helps him keep his head on his shoulders.

The pursuer resumes the run as well. In such a thick forest, his black armor and the thorned cape that reaches to his torso blends in with the shadows of every object near him. We can't see what he's thinking behind his helmet, even with the cracked visor. If it wasn't for the rocket boots, Riley would have died by the blade residing in the assassin's well-hidden sheath, located on his lower-back.

That armor is made of modified iron for more resistance and flexibility, giving room for the man under to breathe and perform acrobatics. This helps him jump around the density of this forest, as well as stick to wood and other surfaces with no difficulty. It shows that he sharpened his skills for years. Breathing under this helmet must be gruesome.

For the scientist, his assailant is a bounty hunter like all the others. Bounty hunters are paid unfairly well in this day and age to get the job done as soon as possible.

Riley, now feeling his bones cracking as he continues to run, takes a break, and hides behind one massive tree, way bigger than others encountered in the area. He believes to be currently safe, and that the assassin cannot see him. Meanwhile, the assassin stops on a branch and stares at the middle-aged man from above, pitying him.

Riley's panic hits a glass ceiling. His breathing is fast and shallow, unable to calm himself.

"Merde! Dying in this forest, of all places! Fine, my creatures it is." Riley whispers in a thick German accent.

In a hesitant manner, Riley reaches into his bag. He throws the three cubes on the floor. As soon as they hit the ground, the marks spark a yellow light and the containers open in dramatic fashion, leaving a pile of smoke up to 10 meters in the area.

The mysterious assassin stays on his branch and observes the doctor from up above. He's at a six meters distance from Riley. It helps that the lunatic is too occupied by whatever he's scheming to make note of his surroundings. The bounty hunter is confident that Riley's plan won't make a difference. His fate is sealed.

"Hey! I didn't think you assassins we're that scared of me, hiding all the time! How about you come closer!?" Screams the scientist. A bold choice.

Riley is confronting the pursuer, like a man... A blind man, that is.

Because of his own smoke, his vision is limited and he's unable to see where the assassin is. The scientist feels a sense of shame from that poor display.

"Ooh for the love of the almighty, where the hell is this maniaque! Okay, the three of you! We need a strategy! Nil, you need to shoot everywhere you can! Urth, start blowing trees away! And you, Eylventh! Go and fly! Find where he's hiding!"

The three creatures look at their master with a blank stare.

"I don't think you understood what I just said! GO AND DO YOUR THINGS!" Screams Riley, impatient and anxious.

Nil, the furred cat with a machine gun fused to its back and tail, nods and meowls at the doctor to signify that it understand what's asked of it. It starts gathering pebbles in the vicinity.

As the fog dissipates, the assassin observes from his tree branch, unsure of what is going on. There are now small animals near the doctor doing different tasks. In the doctor's current predicament, this seems illogical. However, the more the assassin ponders, the easier it is for him to see problems: Those creatures look combat ready, and the scientist holds a bag in his hands. Were those things locked inside small containers? Does he keep more of those pocket monsters in his arsenal? That means more enemies.

This has potential to turn into trouble.

Meanwhile, Urth, a bull frog the size of a tree trunk, the common looking animal aside from its weight, is scouting the area. It leaps on the ground and scavenges for something to eat, ignoring Riley's demands. It looks bored.

Eylventh, the small flying crocodile bird mishmash, is already sailing for the clouds above the forest. It's wings and body structure resemble those of a pterodactyl, a descendant of some sort. Key differences are the feather spots on its wings and near the neck area. Its head is definitely reptilian. If Urth is just a bigger bullfrog and Nil can pass for a normal cat without the machine gun, Eylventh is the obvious oddity.

To the bounty hunter observing the flying crock from his branch, it's an orange in a sea of apples.

If Riley's plan was to bring back the dinosaurs, this would have been a good head-start. It's a shame that, no matter the reason, the methods are what got the scientist in this position.

In an effort to dissect Riley's next move, the assassin shifts his sights on the other animals. Seems the cat's got the pebbles needed to shoot a few rounds. The bull frog is nowhere to be seen.

He then hears a roar in the distance. The assassin quickly turns around. Even with the dozen meter gap, Eylventh spots him with ease. It seems the reptilian's got a good eyesight.

"Ah, shit." are the only words the bounty hunter can whisper to himself.

He then feels something hit the branch he's sitting on with great impact, cutting it from the rest of the tree.

The assassin does two backflips before landing on his two feet, agile, clean, precise. He gets up and cracks his neck left and right, seeing the small little cat imbued with rage, ready to shoot its mounted weapon once again. Behind the animal is a smirking scientist taunting his opponent. The doctor's pride is naked and exposed. He's acting like he has won the battle already.

"HAHAHA! I should have known you would hide so close to me in the south of the forest! It's a pattern I see you buffoons take every time! As if I wouldn't be able to guess your tactics!" Proudly exclaims Riley.

"Well, you're still alive. Good for you."

"Quite! On that note, I hope you enjoyed your time stalking me! Sadly for you, simpleton, I've got you cornered!"

Riley points dramatically at the assassin, expecting an exclamation, his two hands on his head, an audible gasp, a reaction of any kind. Instead, an awkward pause. The assassin is rudely scratching his right ass cheek while the doctor is boasting. Unimpressed.

"Ah! I-I guess the cat got your tongue, or rather, your last breath-!"

"This is getting ridiculous. Are you done?" Interrupts the assassin. "Didn't take you for a quips guy, and I can confirm you need to shut your mouth. You're pissing me off."

The way this assassin disrespects him. It bothers Riley J. Smith's cockiness, cracking it like the hunter's visor. How dare he. With such calm and focus too. That voice coming out of the helmet is low, raspy. The doctor can feel the dozen packs of cigarettes with every syllables. The assassin talks like there's no way he could lose.

"W-Well, I've got one last thing to say!"

"Oh, my days. Make it quick then."

"NIL! MORE PEBBLES!"

As soon as he screams these words, Nil growls and prepares his machine gun. The cat gets a solid pack of 6 rocks that Riley helps him place inside the weapon. They perform a double team, which explains how fast they were able to shoot their target on the branch. Seems Eylventh was a decent distraction the first time. The assassin stays right in front of them, curious about the cat's capabilities. Under the visor, he gives a mocking smirk as the doctor treats the feline like a protege. He takes that opportunity to check his surroundings. No signs of the other bratty pets. Good. Now that he knows what almost caught him, he's prepared.

One prey at a time.

As soon as they are ready, Riley places himself in a stable position, ready to give Nil the signal to open fire. Seeing this, the hunter gets in battle position.

"Ok, KILL HIM NIL!"

Nil doesn't hesitate: It shoots all six pebbles with intent to hit its opponent's face. It aims for the helmet's visor, the easiest spot to pierce through the hunter's head. The pebbles traverse at a velocity that makes them impossible for normal humans to react to.

This bounty hunter is far from normal.

He catches the six rocks, every single one of them, without breaking a sweat. He barely moves a muscle. His hands are catching the rocks so fast that the scientist doesn't register what's going on until after the fact. Nil can only meowl in wonder, while Riley's jaw drops to the floor. His arrogance meets its match.

The scientist is stunned.

"Not gonna lie, I could steal that cat for myself. Would be great for some of the tougher contracts." States the assassin.

"Y-you! What the in the name of the devil are you!? You caught six of those with your bare hands!!"

"Yep, I did."

"These rocks we're going at a speed of 171,5 meters per second! You went 0.5 times the speed of sound! H-How!? I mean, since when!?"

The bounty hunter sighs, annoyed.

"It's cute hearing you dabble in your thoughts out loud, doctor. Sadly, chatting with you is not the reason why I accepted this job." He says menacingly, while grabbing his sword.

The weapon itself looks antique, akin to a stolen artifact. The edge of the sword is angled at around 45 degrees, and its blade measures around 50 centimeters. It looks sharp, as if bought recently.

Riley grabs the cat and stumbles into another tree nearby, as the assassin walks closer to them, bridging the gap.

"Five million dollars. I want you to repeat that number in your head. Only the highest scum of the earth gets that sort of price tag. You should feel honored, doc."

The scientist is scared shitless. His best assault had no effect. It maybe is too late for him. Maybe he is going to die here, in this forest, of all places.

As the assassin walks towards them, another roar can be heard from above. They all turn to see Eylventh flying closer to the ground and taunting the predator.

While the assassin was dodging the bullets, he did, in fact, stomp on a massive worm that Eylventh was ready to turn into its midnight snack. This angered the flying crocodile. Riley feels a superficial level of comfort. For once, Nil isn't the only pet trying to save its maker.

The hunter is ready to throw some of the rocks he caught.

He's interrupted by a noise that gets progressively louder: a stack of trees hitting one another, falling at the hunter's direction like dominoes. 

It's Urth. The bull frog has the peculiar ability to blow winds that can rival brutal storms. It blew that whole pack of trees away in the direction of the assassin. 

"What the hell!?" Shouts the assassin.

As the hunter is about to dodge, Eylventh flies as fast as it can towards him and catches him by the leg, making him trip on his back. All of the falling trees crash on the hunter with a resounding BOOM that shakes the ground and the entire forest.

This outburst of action is followed by a short silence, which signifies relief.

Such timing and team spirit places a smile on the scientist's face. Pride, restored. He's above all thankful that his life is forfeited for today. Nil starts meowling aggressively which prompts Riley to let the cat go.

Unwilling to check if their assailant is truly dead, Dr. Riley J. Smith and the three animals dashes off south to the borders, ecstatic.

#

October 21st.

The rest of the journey has been smooth.

No obstacles, no other hunters, no need to run, no need to hide, no problems. Riley J. Smith could enjoy the forest and the traversal with more leisure, for once. Having no other containers, he had to let those pets loose in the wild, hoping they'd follow him. They are following. They have nowhere else to go.

Having not eaten anything since being encapsulated, their stomach begged for any kind of food. The scientist refused at first but complied by gifting them each one quarter of his last chocolate chip and mint protein bar, last quarter going to himself. They say cats, probably frogs and dinosaurs too, shouldn't eat chocolate. When a carnivore hasn't been fed for days, it will never care about what can enter its body.

The sun begins to rise when they arrive at destination. The calm before the storm. One barrier soon to be crossed, with an objective one can spot from miles away:

The Bottomless Pit.

Grandiose.

Infamous. 

Petrifying.

A hole on the ground where an atomic bomb would have fell and destroyed New York. The event that took away the "United" from the United States. The Bottomless Pit seems bigger than the last time Riley saw it.

This feeling of excitement is hyperbolized by the traveling distance left. The scientist feels a rush of adrenaline shooting through his head, and saliva going down his throat. Everything he worked for, the achievements, the sacrifices, the regrets that have piled up over the decades. It had been for this precious moment: going back to that area after 10 years. It's now or never.

A noise can be heard in the forest behind them. It's faint. Discerning it would take a lot of work, even for the animals with better earing then Riley.

The second the doctor hears that noise, he gulps.

Sure, that assassin is most definitely lying dead, crushed under a pile of destroyed trees. The hunter's showings however, in regard to how fast he is, throws a dart in Riley's optimism.

Thinking about that man still alive makes Riley's heart bounce in all different directions. Terror. That last look the hunter gave him, when he was about to dice him out, was the stuff of nightmares. A lion ready to munch on a dog. The hunter losing his tracks would be a blessing that helps with his research of the Bottomless Pit.

With that food for thought, the scientist hastily starts running again, now closer to his dream than ever before.