Hello again everyone! I'm terribly sorry for taking so long to upload but I've been over the top busy these past few months and I didn't have much time for writing. Also...I wanted to make the big battle scene and the finale as great as possible. I hope I did it right. :-) As usual, thank you for all your support and pls don't be shy to leave me a review on this chapter. ;-) Enjoy!
The majestic lion can feel the heat caressing his fur as he is pacing through the dessert, running faster than the speed of light, the sun flashing a bright smile at him as he makes his way through the endless fields of tropical desolation. The last time Simba followed this course he was lost and weakened, he didn't know where he should go or what he should do next, but now he is a whole new person. A reborn man baptized in the holy waters of strength, a weapon forced on the steal of determination and a warrior with a life-crucial cause to fulfill. He knows exactly who he is, what his purpose is and where his heart belongs. Every fiber of his being is drawn by this place, leading him closer and closer by the minute to the Pride Lands. His one true homeland. He had finally realized that this was the truth.
Finally, after a few-days journey, Simba arrives at the Pride Lands. Or...at least what has left from it. From the moment he steps his foot at the grassland domain, horror strikes him and death and emptiness welcome him. Bones and rotten remains of long now deceased creatures (both animals and shape-shifters) lie on the sore ground, making a creepy sound as they crack under Simba's feet. The once rich vegetation of the grassland has now withered away, allowing to the Pride Lands to turn into an endless dessert of bleakness. Thick layers of dark and ominous clouds cover the sky, drowning even the tiniest shred of sunlight.
The sight is getting worse and more horrific with each new step, each more careful look. Simba marches through the void and darkness-consumed fields, feeling his heart breaking a little more in the process. He can't believe his eyes, he can't handle the fact that all this destruction is real. He keeps walking until the ground runs out. He stands by the edge of a cliff, lifts his gaze...and the view he faces makes every drop of blood in his veins turn to ice. He freezes in place and lets out a terror-filled gasp as he stares at the miserably looking pile of big pieces of granite in the middle of a decimated place. It's the Pride Rock! He always remembered the Pride Rock to be a miracle of nature, a fascinating location full of warmth and vividness. Now it looked like a throne that had lost his King and had being trampled over by ravagers.
The kingdom and home of Simba has been completely perished and there is only one to blame. Scar. Nala was right! As the pieces begin to come together and the realization forms in Simba's mind, the purest form of hatred overwhelms him, starting a fire in his soul and making his blood boil with raw rage. Nala was right about him, everything she had said were disgustingly true. This damn villain not only did he betray his pride by becoming an ally of these foul curs but he had allowed them to take over the Pride Lands and consume it like the fires of hell! In such sort time he had destroyed everything the werelions' pride spent eons to build and what Mufasa fought his entire lifetime to preserve. How had I not seen it before?! Simba curses from the inside. The lying and treacherous bastard had taken advantage of him at his worst moment, when he was grief-stricken and confused and had manipulated him into running away from the Pride Lands. He didn't want him in the way when he would destroy it, because he knew that Simba would never let this happen. He would rather die than stand idle while his kingdom is being violated in such horrid way. He would fought Scar with everything he had in order to defend his people, his home, Mufasa's legacy. He might failed to fight for the Pride Lands and the kingdom of Saeva the first time but he is not going to repeat the past mistakes. He might is a little late but he is determined to take back what is his and protect it by any cost. With one determined and wrath-filled glare at the ruins of the Pride Rock, Simba swears to save his home and his people by their terrible fate and take his revenge on Scar for everything he's done. He will make him pay with his blood for all his sins.
An all too familiar roar wakes him up from his thoughts and forces him to turn his look away from the misery and glance behind. A proud lioness with glowing blue eyes approaches Simba with quick strides, her golden fur being the only blessed ray of sunlight in this gray and darkened realm. By the time he has blinked his fiery red eyes, Nala has shifted back to her human form and is now calling out to him: "Simba! Wait up!". She rushes towards him and comes to stand next to him. She glances at the same pathetic sight Simba was gazing a few moments ago and a cloud of sadness shades her pale porcelain features. "It's awful, isn't it?" she says bitterly. Simba shakes his head. "I didn't want to believe you" he confesses. Nala turns to look at him. "What made you change your mind?" she cares to know. Simba forces a light smile. "I finally got some sense knocked into me" he says. A chuckle escapes his lips and grins at the memory of the unbelievable experience. "And I've got the bump to prove it" he points at the spot on his skull where Rafiki's cane had landed, feeling the sting of pain still fresh upon his skin.
He took a vigorous step forward and stared at the horizon again, but this time his gaze flared powerful, dauntless, ready. "Besides, this is my kingdom. If I don't fight for it, who will?" he says in total clarity, accepting his destiny and his responsibilities. Nala took a step forward of her own and stood proudly by her true Alpha, a soldier ready to go to war and determined to win. "I will" she declares seriously. Simba turns at her. "It's going to be dangerous" he warns, even though he knows it's not going to stop her. Nala smirks at him, her eyes sparkle. "Danger? Huh! I laugh at the face of danger. Ha ha ha!" she imitates a snarky, bravado-filled, ego-maniac little boy that Simba used to know in another lifetime.
As if on cue, the sound of a third party's voice reached Simba's eardrums. A high pitched accent dripping sarcasm. "I see nothing funny about it" Timon states. Simba spins around and his surprised eyes fall on Timon's grinning face. His hands are resting on the sides of his waist in a pose of protest and judging by a quick peruse of his look, Simba guesses that he is probably thinking: "In what mess did we put ourselves into again?!". He knows the risk, the danger, of coming here. Timon is a wereweasel, he is not a person of responsibility nor a soldier, he is no friend of dying – heroically or not. And yet he was here. Pumbaa is standing two feet away from his friend. In contrast with Timon, a proud smile decorates the ebony features of his face and his obsidian eyes shine fiercely. "Timon? Pumbaa! What are you doing here?" Simba asks. "At your service, my liege" says Pumbaa respectfully and bows before Simba. Apparently the noble yet rebellious and vagabond werewarthog has finally found what he'd been looking for; a purpose worth fighting for.
Timon walks at where the couple is standing and stares at the view lying beyond. He frowns at the sight of the decimated field with the big tombstone in the middle which the famous Pride Rock has ended up being. "We're gonna fight your uncle... for this?" he says almost scornfully. "Yes, Timon. This is my home" says Simba with a solemn smile. Timon grins slightly. "Whoa. Talk about your fixer-upper" he whispers through gritted teeth so as not to be heard from anyone else. But then he turns at Simba and smiles genuinely. "Well, Simba, if it's important to you" he gestures at the lad "we are with you to the end" he says and for once he tilts his body in a bowing position, paying to Simba the treatment and the respect that fits a King.
Simba smiles in gratitude at all his companions. It is no secret that this battle will be the toughest one to win but he isn't afraid of facing the odds. Not now that he has his best friends and his beloved mate watching his back and fighting by his side. If there was any lack of confidence in him a few moments ago, now it can be considered non-existent.
As the four companions stare at the distance, the blackened clouds begin to gather thicker over the tip of the Pride Rock. A fitting precursor to the bloody events that are about to take place.
Since the land of ruins was clear of any kind of life it wasn't such a hard task for the company to reach the Pride Rock without being noticed. But in order to get to the heart of the Pride Rock, it is crucial that they move fast, cautiously and smartly. Once they get close to the territory of the enormous granite building, they partly shift, arming themselves with the weapons that mother nature has given them; the gifts of a shape-shifter. Thanks to the feline grace and super speed of the werelions, the wereweasel's ability to hide away from its foes and the werewarthog's natural hunter instinct that provided him with the best camouflaging skills, they manage to become one with the silence, the void and the darkness of this place. Soon they are nothing more than four shadows passing by.
The safest way to sneak into the lion's den is through a secret passage that only the Alphas know of. Mufasa had shared this information with Simba when he was still a little boy at the beginning of his training in case he'd need it someday. And the time has finally come for him to put this precious knowledge at use. According to his father's instructions, it is a path that traverses the rocky side of the grassland and gets you directly at the back of the Pride Rock. At the foothill of the Rock there is a trail that goes all the way up to its spine and in the middle there are two short cuts. Two turns, the one leading to the courtyard of the Pride Rock and the other to the interior of the cave where the pride's chambers were located which later leads to a descent. If they follow this path correctly, they will manage to pass right under Scar's werehyena security's nose.
Simba is leading the team, guiding them through the endless expanse of the rugged part of the grassland. When they get to the are surrounding the Pride Rock, the sight he comes across causes him to get low to the ground and motion his friends to do the same. They hide behind a pile of pieces of stone and they sneak a peek over the tip of their hideout. There are werehyenas everywhere in here! They lie around casually, toying with the bones of their poor victims or occupy themselves with savage activities, looking as though they own the place. "Wereyenas. I hate werehyenas" Timon mumbles, his voice dripping disgust but also fear. Werehyenas don't have a specific taste on their prey but they most definitely are a natural enemy of the wereweasel kin, since the latter is considered one the most coward species on earth while the other is the most bloodthirsty one. The tone of his voice, suggests that Timon has confronted their deadly fangs in the past. The wereweasel man moves closer to Simba and puts his hand next to the corner of his mouth for silence. "So what's the plan for getting past those guys?" he asks with a grin.
"Live bait" Simba whispers.
"Good idea" Timon comments but his smile disappears at the instant he realizes what his friend is actually talking about. "HEY!" he exclaims and shoots an upset glare at Simba. "Come on Timon" Simba hisses sharply. "I need you to cause diversion".
"What do you want me to do, dress in drag and do the hula?" says Timon sarcastically and makes a grimace.
"No..." Simba mumbles. "Not exactly".
We are so gonna die it's the tune that plays over and over again inside Timon's head as he jumps in front of the werehyenas and cries loud enough so as all of them can hear him: "Hey yo doggies! Yeah you! All of you!" he waves his hands in the air frantically, drawing more attention on him. "Who's into some pork and weasel meat for dinner?!" Pumbaa shouted out, his hands wide open as though he is showing off himself as the world's greatest meal and a playful smile covering the area from the one ear to the other. Every single werehyena present turns around and dozens of menacing yellow eyes devour the two friends' forms. The canine shifters bared their fangs through sinister smiles and rivers of saliva start dripping from the corner of their twitched lips. Waves and waves of fear run through Timon's veins but somehow he manages to stay put and offer them a good show. He just constantly reminds himself that he is doing this for the greater good. For Simba. For everyone. That gives him all the strength he needs in order to carry on.
"Yeah come on, it's an open buffet over here folks!" Timon continued shouting.
"Fresh and juicy for y'all!" Pumbaa added.
"Yummm! A real treat! Come on, come on". The more they insist, the closer the werehyenas get. They walk slowly, in the way of a predator, their eyes glowingly famished. They take a step forward, Timon and Pumbaa take two backwards.
With the corner of his eye, Pumbaa spots Simba and Nala slipping pass the horde of the canine shifters. He offers them a reassuring wink, encouraging them to keep going and Simba nods as a reply. "It's time" he whispers at Timon. The wereweasel shakes his head. "Hey hot shots! If you wanna grab a bite then come and get it!" he yells provokingly. And then the two friends turn around and run as fast as their feet can carry them.
Their loud screams of hysteria echo though the grassland but they soon turn into weasel squeals and warthog growls, followed by hyena roars. Now a mob of wild gods pursue a weasel riding a warthog.
Once the coast is clear, Simba and Nala hurry themselves to the foothill of the Pride Rock. They run up the trail upon the Rock's granite back, like blood cells running through a big vein. When they reach the crossroads in the middle, they stop and look at each other. "Nala, you find my mother and rally the werelionesses" said Simba in a commanding voice like a high general. "I'll look for Scar" his eyes ignited fiery and furious and he unclenched his fist, exposing his dagger-like claws and revealing his vengeful and determined intentions. Nala shakes her head in agreement, they exchange a meaningful look and then go their separate ways.
She goes to the left. Heading to the cave. Looking to summon the remaining loyal soldiers who are ready to follow the son of Mufasa and fight with him till the end.
He goes to the right. Towards the courtyard. Ready to meet his mortal foe and bring him down once and for all.
Simba strides over the descent towards the courtyard, even sliding with immense caution and skilfulness at some point. He hides behind the stone façade and narrows his eyes, trying to get a better look at what lies before him.
From where he stands he can see the place where the two sharp-edged, blade-like parts of the Pride Rock come to cross very closely. This is the place where the King stands at his public appearances, the throne upon which he sits and watches over his entire kingdom. Simba remembers Mufasa standing at that exact spot, the wind blowing through his golden mane, his posture reflecting unmeasurable strength, while the crowds below shouted in exhilaration for him. The scene couldn't be more different from Simba's memories. Now Scar, the ruinous King, is sitting on the throne and the crowds that are gathered around the Pride Rock are hordes of werehyenas. Just the sight of it makes Simba's blood boil and his hatred to grows more passionate.
"Sarabiiiii!" Scar bellows all of a sudden, his words echo and re-echo like the booming of a thunder. Simba's heart sinks into his chest and he gasps in dread. Mother he thinks. And then he sees her. A pale figure passing through the madding crowd of werehyenas, the features of her face sharpened by the anvil of time and carved into a stone cold, emotionless mask while her body is full of slim and tightened muscles, its language revealing years of turmoil that eventually left her void. She doesn't glance at the werehyenas surrounding her not even once, she simply ignores the loathsome yellow glares that the damn curs shoot her. The angry wild-dog-shifters growl and attempt to bite her as she is walking by. They treat her like she is something worthless, something hateful. This kind of disrespect towards the Queen is the most foul blasphemy and the most merciful punishment for the one who performs it is death. Or at least that would be the case under fair circumstances. Simba's heart aches as if it's being stabbed by a thousand blades but he can't do anything at this point; one wrong move and he would blow up his cover. He is forced to stand and watch as the phantom of his mother climbs up the Pride Rock, feeling the waves of sorrow rising by the second, her sight causing the darkness of pain to overshadow his eyes.
Sarabi comes to stand before Scar, her arms crossed behind her back, her eyes cold, steady and emotionless like polar vortexes. "Yes, Scar?" she says, her voice not higher than a whisper; it's so weak that Simba actually has to use his hyper-hearing to make sure that she actually spoke. "Where is your hunting party?" Scar snaps, his voice a bone-crashing demand. He starts walking in circles around Sarabi in a daunting way, a demonstration of power. "They're not doing their job".
Sarabi sighs heavily, hopelessly. "Scar, there is no food. The herds have moved on" she says steadily and sternly, trying to put some sense into the arrogant bastard's head. All her efforts go in vein since Scar glares at her and snaps: "No! You're just not looking hard enough".
"It's over. There is nothing left" says Sarabi, the desperation so visible in her voice that Simba could see its color escaping her lips. "We have only one choice. We must leave Pride Rock" her eyes grew twice as wide, looking as though she was trying to shoot lighting bolts of sanity into Scar's head in order to realize how crucial her point was. Scar turned around and faced Sarabi, his face the façade of a furious maniac. "We're not going anywhere!" he declares spitefully and that makes Simba's eyes ignite by the fire of rage. The situation isn't just difficult, it is endgame! And yet that pathetic and selfish being can't put his ego and his madness aside for the good of his pride! What kind of man does that? Does his senselessness knows no limits? Simba can't take it any more, he refuses to hide in the background and do nothing while the conditions get worse by the second for the people he loves.
"Then you have sentenced us to death!" this is the first time that Sarabi shows emotions and it's not just any emotion but the intense demonstration of anger that burns with the fire of a thousand suns. Her perfect mask of obedience cracks and from underneath appears the strong-willed Queen who shall not let anything happen to her people, no matter what the cost might be for her. "Then so be it!" Scar hisses menacingly at Sarabi's face.
"You can't do that!"
"I'm the king! I can do whatever I want!" he states turning his back on Sarabi, scorning her in every way possible. Sarabi couldn't contain her temper anymore. "If you were half the king Mufasa was, you..." she never manages to finish her sentence. Scar swiftly spins around in a moment of hysteria and smacks her with the back of his palm cutting her off. "I'm ten times the king Mufasa was!" he screams. His strike is so forceful that manages to throw the werelioness to the other side of the courtyard and knock her unconscious.
At that very moment a roar so mighty and powerful that shakes the entire Pride Rock to its very core fills the air, followed by the deafening music of lightings crushing against the solid ground. The heavenly lights illuminate the place, revealing the intimidating image of Simba standing a few feet away from the scene of the crime with his lion eyes glowing brighter than the lighting bolts and his fangs bared through a snarl most ferocious.
Scar literally jumps out of his own skin at the sound of that roar. He had never felt so scared in his entire life than from the moment he glanced over his shoulder and saw before his very eyes what appeared to be the ghost of Mufasa himself sliding down the Pride Rock's side. The figure has the same height, the same build, the same brownish-golden mane as his brother and the haunting red eyes of an Alpha. "Mufasa! No! You're dead!" he murmurs pathetically as he stumbles backwards attempting to conceal himself in the safety of the shadows.
Simba rushes to his mother's side and kneels next to her, concern pictured upon his statue-y features. He places a hand under her chin and searches for a pulse; her heart still flutters, thank the gods. And yet Simba still lifts his gaze to give a poisonous glare at the cowarding Scar.
Sarabi begins to regain conscious, her eyelids slowly open and she comes face to face with the most unbelievable sight! Mufasa! It's him...and it's not him at the same time. The person kneeling next to her is a young man at his early twenties and yet every feature of his face, every detail of his form, reminds her of her dear mate. "Mufasa?" she whispers. This must be a dream, she thinks and yet it feels so real. But how can he be here? The lad turns his head to look at her and he smiles warmly. Lovingly. "No. It's me" he says softly, gently. And then it hits her! That voice. It is more mature, harsh and deep – more grown up – than the last time she heard it but the sound-color, the vibration, of it remains the same. A mother never forgets, she always knows. "Simba? You're alive?! But how can that be?" there are no words to describe how she is feeling at the moment. "It doesn't matter. I'm home" says Simba and places a reassuring and caring hand on his mother's cheek, she covers his hand with hers. He feels his skin getting wet by the salty tear drops falling down the side of her face – he would cry too if the heat of the upcoming battle hadn't blocked all his other senses and emotions.
"Simba?" a mumble on Scar's behalf. "Simba!" he now exclaims pretending to be happy. It doesn't work that good, because his voice is trembling with fear. He is afraid for he knows that since Simba is here, he's probably down right pissed off! Scar already pictures himself at the other end of the Alpha's claws. "Well, it sure is a surprise to see you..." he gasps in surprise and glances/glares at the infamous werehyena trio (Shenzi, Banzai and Ed) who are watching the scene from a higher level "alive!". The hissing accusation makes all three of the werehyenas gulp in terror and walk out of Scar's sight.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rip you apart" Simba snarls venomously as he is menacingly approaching Scar, every fiber of his being reflecting his killer intentions. Scar tries to get away by walking backwards but Simba corners him.
"Oh, Simba, you must understand. The pressures of ruling a kingdom..."
"Are no longer yours. Step down, Scar" it is a declaration, a statement, a demand. Simba's words cut sharper than knives. Lightings continue to boom somewhere in the background.
"Well, I would, eventually" he stammers with a crooked smile. "However there is one little problem. You see them" he points a finger upwards and Simba lifts his gaze to the higher levels of the Pride Rock. Dozens and dozens of wicked yellow pair of eyes stare back at him. Every layer of the building is filled with werehyenas! Their evil laughters mix with the noises of the storm and create a creepy symphony. "They think I'm King" says Scar, his forehead wrinkles in frustration when Simba shoots another deadly glare at him.
"Well we don't" this time is Nala's voice the one that cuts through the silence like a blade. Simba turns around and finds her standing a few yards away from them, surrounded by the rest of the werelionesses of the pride. "Simba is the rightful King" she declares sternly. At the same moment two of the females aid Sarabi back on her feet. Simba finally has all the comrades and alleys he needs right behind him.
"The choice is yours Scar. Either step down or fight" he warns with a spite that can make bones quiver with fear. But Scar doesn't seem shaken up at all. He straightens up his body, his expression gets calmer and something lights up inside his eyes. "Must this all end in violence?" says Scar, feigning innocence and concern. He is playing them, he is trying to save his ass! Scar walks by an angry Simba with an odd-considering-the-circumstances casualty and makes his way towards where the werelionesses are standing. "I'd hate to be responsible for the death of a family member" he pauses for dramatic effect and turns around to give a provoking look at the lad. "Don't you agree Simba?" he taunts. He is being sneaky and cunning, he is using the only weapon which he believes is sharp enough to cut through his antagonist and wreck him. Too bad for him that Simba's skin has grown thicker than stone. "That's not gonna work Scar" he says sharply "I've put it behind me".
"But what about your faithful subjects?" says Scar. He turns to meet the werelionesses' stolid looks with a smile full of mischief of his own. "Have they put it behind them?". Nala's eyes narrow in disbelief. "Simba what is he talking about?" she says.
Scar is now walking in circles around Simba while the lad shoots him glares of aggression – which unfortunately don't seem to have any effect on him. Scar is feeling confident, he has Simba right where he wants him. He has him cornered, he has trapped him in his clawed fist and there is no escape, no turning point, now. "Ahh, so you haven't told them your little secret. Well, Simba, now is your chance to tell them" Scar taunts him, a wicked smile spread across his tanned face as he continues to move around. He stops and stands between Simba and the rest of the pride, separating him from his comrades and leaving him exposed. "Tell them who is responsible for Mufasa's death!". Those last words seem to have pulled a severe string for Sarabi and Nala, because they both turn and look at Simba astonishment-stricken.
And just like that, Scar manages to strip Simba off his titanium armor. A long pause follows and the silence falls so thick and heavy that you can feel it in the air. Simba stands there bared and exposed and he only has two options; either deny his past once again and live his remaining time on this earth in a lie which will do him no good, or come clean and hope that he will find a way to acquire salvation through all this mayhem. At the moment none of the paths in his crossroad lead to a good place...maybe if he had more time...but he doesn't have that luxury! He must choose the best of two evils. He steps forward, remorse painted all over his expression, and says: "I am". He chooses the truth. It's do or die from now on, everything is at stake and he is willing to put everything he has in the game in order to win. Because that's what it is for Scar; a game. Simba won't let him get away with this trick again. He won't allow him to use Mufasa's death in order to manipulate him, not anymore! If the way of fully liberating himself from his sins is to confess them then so be it! He is not gonna let Scar have any more power over him.
But his courage suffers a wrecking blow when he faces Sarabi and Nala. Both of their eyes are wide like twin moons, their mouths open yet speechless. Surprise, devastation and disbelief all entangle and are being reflected in their pale faces. Sarabi approaches Simba slowly, while Nala remains frozen in her place. A hand climbs to cover her mouth as if it's trying to hold back an emotional exclamation. "It's not true" Sarabi whispers. Simba drops his head in shame and pulls away from her. "Tell me it's not true" her plead makes Simba's heart ache even worse. "It's true" he whispers under his breath, remorse dripping from his words like the blood from an open wound.
"You see?" Scar yells, subduing all other sounds and whispers. "He admits it. Murderer!" viciousness marks his voice when he snarls those words. A lighting strikes almost too close to the stone building and Scar's green eyes ignite with an evil glow. "No! It was an accident!" Simba snaps, rebel in his voice. Scar circles him again, daunting him like he is about to bring down a prey and consume it afterwards. "If it weren't for you Mufasa would still be alive. It's your fault he's dead. Do you deny it?" he continues to attack him. "No" says Simba. "Then you're guilty" Scar proclaims cruelly. "No, I'm not a murderer!" Simba rebels but the imposingness has given up his voice.
Suddenly he feels weak. Scar's accusing glare and the viciousness of his words act like a deadly poison that slowly drains him from his strength. He doesn't realize that Scar is walking menacingly towards him until his feet start moving backwards. With his peripheral vision he sees the werehyenas coming down from the higher levels and joining their leader, they gradually shift to their wild dog forms as they progress. "No, Simba, you're in trouble again" Scar taunts, every word that comes out of his mouth a piece of cruelty. He has partly shifted now, his eyes glowing green like infernos and his fangs projecting from the sides of his mouth. "But this time, daddy isn't here to save you. And now everyone knows why!" right at the moment Scar hisses out the last word, Simba feels the ground disappearing from beneath his feet and the gravity pulling him down. They had led him to the edge of the cliff and now he is falling over!
"SIMBA!" Nala screams. Simba uses his claws to hold on the edge for dear life. As if on cue, a lighting strikes the ground below, causing a fire to start up. One wrong movement and Simba will fall to his doom.
He tries desperately to climb back on top but he slips off every time. He claws the stoney surface again and again but he is not strong enough to lift his weight up and climb. In the meantime, Scar stands over him and watches him struggle. Simba is trapped between a rock and a hard place, and he doesn't know which fate is worse! "Now this looks familiar. Where have I seen this before? Hm, let me think" Scar mumbles and scratches his chin. "Oh, yes, I remember! This is just the way your father looked before he died" the amusement in his voice is sickening.
Simba feels himself slipping off, his claws scratch the texture of the Rock while sliding down. He braces himself for the mortal fall, but before he looses his grip on the edge of the cliff, Scar claws his hands and steadies him in place. Just like he had done to Mufasa.
Simba is about to thank his luck but then Scar's evil gaze captures his own stunned one and the he feels as if he is swirling in a vortex of darkness and void. "And here's 'my' little secret..." he hisses in a wicked way. He brings his mouth close to Simba's ear and whispers three words: "I killed Mufasa!".
Three small words and yet the affect they have on Simba couldn't be more powerful. Images flash before his eyes as the memories overwhelm his mind like a forceful tidal wave. He relieves every moment as if it is for the first time – only that now he sees it through a new light. Mufasa falling over the edge into a sea of grim, killer wildebeests. His agonizing scream of a last dying breath. And himself watching from above in horror and despair. "Nooooo!" he remembers he had screamed when his world had started crushing down around him. When he thought all this was his fault. Only that he never was the one responsible. Someone else ruined his and Mufasa's life that day. He doesn't have to hate himself anymore. That privilege belongs to Scar now.
"Nooo!" this time it's not a scream of devastation but a battle cry. Awoken by rage and hatred, the most immense power fills Simba's system and gives him the boost he needs to lift himself up, leap back up and pounce on Scar with feline brutality. "Murderer!" he roars, his words causing a crescendo of united gasps to fill the air on the rest of the pride's behalf.
Scar's back lands with force on the hard solid stone as Simba crushes him down with his higher strength; the superior Alpha subduing the inferior Omega. Simba's fists are against his chest and hold him down aggressively. "No, Simba, please!" Scar begs desperately. "Tell them the truth!" the Alpha demands. "Truth..." Scar stammers. "But Simba truth is in the eye of the behold..." Simba cuts him off by clenching his clawed fist around his neck to the point he can feel his vocal chores tightening. Scar lets out a few shaky breaths in order to fight back the burning sensation in his throat while he is chocking. "All right" he manages to gasp. Simba loosens his grip slightly so as to let him speak – and be heard. "All right. I did it" he says under his breath. "So they can hear you" Simba hisses. An eternity-long moment of torturing silence passes, during which the two mortal enemies exchange venomous stares, before Scar speaks up at last. "I killed Mufasa!"
And that was the trigger needed for the battle to begin, the spark which started the inferno fire of war. The females of the pride – with Nala giving the lead – shift to their lioness form and attack. So do the hyenas. The wild dog pack members growl in sync and pounce on Simba, bringing him down and smothering him like a wave of fur and evil right on the moment he has shifted to a lion. The Alpha roars in pain as a number of fangs are impaled in his flesh and claws leave scratching marks up and down his body.
The lionesses rush to the rescue. They pounce on the pile of hyenas and throw themselves into the fight as well. They punch the wild dogs with their clawed paws, they bite their flesh till it's red from its own blood and cut them deep to the bone. The foul creatures below at the first sign of pain coursing through their veins and immediately pounce off Simba; their priorities have now changed and they are either ready to run for their miserable lives or try to tear of the head of the one who hurt them. Gathering every piece of his power, Simba lets out a battle cry and pushes the hyenas off of him with his paws, bites their necks and slices their throats with his teeth. He doesn't quit fighting until he is free of their grasp. One of the damn things attempts to bite off Simba's head but it is immediately stopped by Nala who strikes it and tosses it out of the way as if it weights nothing more than a bug.
The battle only rages on from now on. The sky has turned a bright red color, reflecting the blood that has been spilled all over the Pride Rock's floors and the crimson flames whose tongues continue to slide across the grassland, burning everything that gets in their way. Lions and hyenas are being rocketed to the air as they pounce right and left, maneuver and perform masterfully savage attacks against each other; their battle cries mix with nature's mad screams and compose a symphony of war.
Suddenly an enormous warthog with a crazy weasel on his back make their appearance and are ready to cause a whole lot of mayhem of their own. Pumbaa comes crushing upon the hyenas like a fireball and knocks them out swiftly. Timon jumps off his back and throws a high kick on one of the wild dog's head. The two companions exchange an empowering look before they separate ways and go kick some ass each one on his own.
Despite the fact that death hits the opponents from all sides, all the attention is caught on the Alpha lion. The only purpose of the hyenas is to take him down in order to leave the lions without a leader and in that way make them even easier to dispose; and they are not easy quitters. But Simba doesn't give up that easily either. Regardless the number of the blows, he manages to repel them each and every time. One pounces on him, he strikes it down before it even gets close enough to touch him. Another one's fangs find his skin, he clenches it in his jaws and throws it off of him as if it weights nothing more than a feather. A third one unleashes a claw attack against him, he retaliates with one of his own.
But without notice one single hyena surprises him by coming at him from behind. More specifically from somewhere over his head. The malicious thing pounces off the elevated jagged piece of Rock it is standing, and before Simba has any time to spin around and react to the upcoming attack, it's impaled his fangs into the flesh of his neck. Simba roars as pain courses through his veins, his flesh is being torn apart and then...a pounding sound echoes in his ears and the pain is no more. Simba looks up and sees the figure of the old druid standing over him, bellowing powerfully, ready to fight. Rafiki had come to help them!
The man jumps off his original spot and gets in the middle of a hyena circle. He takes up a battle stance and with one look he challenges the wild dogs to do their worst. One of them growls and gives him a glare before pacing towards him forcefully, only for Rafiki to perform an impressive back-flip which results to the hyena passing under him and completely missing him. Once Rafiki lands back on his feet, and the rest of the hyenas make their moves, the old druid starts sharing cane-smacks! One, two, three and he has knocked every single one of his opponents out by striking them with his cane or by using his own amazing fighting movements. Damn that thing hits harder than it seems!
A long stretch of time that seems like an eternity passes by, full of gore and agony and ferocious action, but the lions finally succeed in driving away the hyena intruders and send them running for their lives through the flaming wasteland that the Pride Rock territory has become. But as the coast starts getting clearer, it becomes visible that there is no sign of Scar anywhere. The coward must fled when havoc wreaked. But there is no place on this earth he can go where Simba can't find him.
With the hyena's fangs on his tail and no way to defend himself, Timon has reached the painful conclusion that his fifteen minutes of heroism have come to an end. The hyena gains on him and he must constantly remind himself to run. Run and not stop no matter what, or else he is as good as dead! Hazed by the complicated combination of adrenaline and fear coursing through his veins, he doesn't realizes that he's gotten to the interior chambers, the pride's cave, until he is already in. The darkness and silence of the cave conflict with the red light radiating from the fire and the deafening background music of the raging battle that occurs outside. But even in all it's voidness, Timon's keen sight catches the image of something. At the corner of the room a cage is located, a cage like the ones of domestic birds that the druids have around from time to time, only that this one is made of bones. And inside of it a man, with worn off blue bird-men clothes along with brown hair and same-colored eyes, is trapped. "Let me out! Let me out!" the man yells out in desperately while pounding his hands against the boney bars of his prison cell.
The sight of the poor bird-man being trapped in a cage is truly heartbreaking and under any other circumstances Timon would have possibly helped him. But right now being sheltered by four walls of indestructible material doesn't seem such a bad idea. Without a second thought, the little weasel passes through the gap between the bars – which used to someone's ribs once – and places himself inside the cell next to the stunned bird-man. "Lemme in! Lemme in!" he yells out in his human voice, now standing in his human skin.
The infamous werehyenas duo, Shenzi and Banzai, storm into the cave. Once their eyes come to rest upon the two treats trembling in fear inside the boney cage, they begin to approach it. Slowly at first, as if they are trying to psychologically torment their potential victims by stalling the inevitable, and with each step they shift. An evil chuckle escapes Shenzi's lips once they have them both cornered. Her claws scratch the texture of the bones creating a shrieking sound, her fangs are bared and drool drips from them at the anticipation of tasting the sweetness of the fresh flesh as it's been torn apart from the bone. "Please don't eat me" the wereweasel whimpers, his hands united in a pleading gesture. It's all over! I'm gonna die! Timon is screaming from the inside.
"Drop 'em!" Pumbaa's rough demanding voice booms across the room. The two werehyenas spin around and shoot a surprised look at the entrance of the cave. They find the werewarhog man standing in an imposing pose, his tusks jutting out from the corners of his mouth and his darkened fists clenched with brute force. Right now he looks like a bull before of a red flag; furious, dangerous and ready to strike.
"Hey! Who's the pig?" Banzai speaks shamelessly. At the same moment he allows these words to come out of his mouth, the werewarthog's beady black eyes turn into a glowing shade of madness. "Are you talkin' to me?" he growls menacingly.
Timon instantly recognizes the spark ignited in his friend's eyes. He sees the end of this and it's not gonna be good. For the werehyenas at least. "Uh-oh, they called him a pig" he mumbles to himself, the expression on his face half-terrified / half-excited for what comes next. "Are you talking to me?" Pumbaa repeats with more spite in his voice. "Ya shouldn't have done that" says Timon. "ARE YOU TALKING TO ME?" at this point Pumbaa's voice has reached its maximum level and it is as clear as day that the savage and senseless part of the warthog has taken over him. Timon rolls his eyes as if he is expecting an all too familiar catastrophe to occur and he is bored to face it again. "Now they're in for it" he states with a grin.
"THEY CALL ME MR. PIG!" Pumbaa bellows. He charges, lets out a battle cry and rockets himself towards the werehyenas – who are just too bewildered and frightened to move. They never knew what hit them.
Everything happened very quickly. Pumbaa crushed on them like a cannonball, his attack was so sudden and uncontrollable that the werehyenas had no time to react at all. He was beating them up so ruthlessly that was too much even for them. At some point in all of that chaos, Pumbaa crushed on the cage of bones and completely demolished it, causing Zazu and Timon to break free.
Ed was sitting outside the cave and was listening to the frenzy when suddenly he sees Banzai and Shenzi storming out as if the very fury of the Gods is on their tails. They stumbled on him during their exit and screamed that they had to get away now!
And just like that Timon, Pumbaa and Zazu manage to kick off the remaining werehyena squatters of the pride's territory and their cheers of triumph fill the air.
Where are you? You can't keep running forever. Simba left the bloody battlefield behind him for the grace of pursuing something far more important, in order to fulfill his own personal mission; hunt Scar down and bring him before justice – one way or another. He looks at every corner, explores every inch of the Pride Rock, climbing higher and higher up his levels. He is looking for any sign of him, even the slightest. A sample of scent, a track, his shadow forming against the granite wall. Suddenly a lighting strikes causing him to turn his gaze towards that direction...and then he sees him. The ray of light illuminates the side of the Pride Rock, revealing the figure of Scar walking up the trail. Scar is startled by the lighting but the face he meets when he makes the mistake of glancing over his shoulder is what scares the life out of him.
Scar attempts to flee, Simba lets out an enraged roar and goes after him. He chases Scar all the way to the highest level of the Pride Rock, the top of the stone throne which looks like a blade cutting through the crimson sky, wrapped up with laces made of flames. This is the end of the road for Scar, he has nowhere else to go except if he wants to jump over the edge of a cliff.
A powerful roar echoes, Scar glances over his shoulder and sees Simba pouncing over the fire. Once his feet touch the ground, he partly shifts and begins to approach Scar slowly, menacingly, tormenting and intimating him like the skillful predator – a hunter and a killer – he is. As the Alpha werelion paces through the flames, their red color radiating to his skin and hair, and the look on his eyes burning brighter and deadlier than the the physical fire which surrounds them, he reminds of a demon rising from hell or like a vengeful angel descending to earth to burn the sinners alive. "Murderer" Simba snarls, venom dripping from his tongue. Scar has shifted partly now too. "Simba, Simba, please. Please have mercy, I beg you" he stammers weakly, the desperation and hopelessness pictured all over his darkened face. The coward actually has the nerve to beg for pity at this point, after everything he had done. "You don't deserve to live" says Simba with all the hatred that vibrates inside his soul. He is getting closer and Scar feels powerless before the supremacy of the Alpha. He drops to his knees like a suppliant. "But, Simba, I... am... family" he stammers again, trying to move some of Simba's emotionals strings but at the moment he doesn't seem to have any. At least not for him. And then he drops the last card that he was hiding under his sleeve, the last resort. "It's the hyenas who are the real enemy. It was their fault. It was their idea!"
Little does he knows that Shenzi, Banzai and Ed had followed Simba and they've been lurking in the red shadows. But most importantly, they've heard everything that has been said and done here. They've witnessed Scar's betrayal, and one look at their snarling snouts reveals that they will make him pay for double-crossing them.
"Why should I believe you?" Simba now looms over Scar and the Omega cowards before of his feet. "Everything you ever told me was a lie" he hisses accusingly, he leans closer to Scar so as the latter may be able to see the inferno raging inside his glowing Alpha eyes. "What are you going to do?" says Scar "You wouldn't kill your own uncle...?".
He can kill him. He has every god damn good reason to do so and no one is going to question that. This greedy, disgraceful abomination crawling in his feet and begging to be given a quarter won't be missed, he will get the punishment he deserves, justice shall be served. So yes, Simba can kill him. But he is not going to do it. If he kills Scar then he is no better than him. He isn't going to act like him, he won't fall so low. He is better than this. "No, Scar" he says, although the sharpness and the roughness are not missing from his voice nor his expression. "I'm not like you".
The air returns back into Scar's lungs for a while. The solace is faint and vague but it's still there. "Oh, Simba, thank you. You are truly noble" he stammers in gratitude as he rises back on his feet. They now stand at the same level. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. How can I, ah, prove myself to you? Tell me anything, anything"
"Run" Simba speaks the sharpest of orders. Scar is left speechless and stares at him bewildered. "Run away, Scar. And never return" the irony is too great to be ignored. Scar manages to regain his composure. "Yes. Of course" he mutters as he awkwardly passes in front of Simba's iron glare. He walks away very slowly as if he is...stalling or something. "As you wish" his next words come out as an insulting and loathsome snarl "your Majesty!" and before Simba can as much as blink, Scar has thrown a pile of embers in his face. "Aaah!" Simba screams at the feeling of the smoldering bite against his skin.
He brings his hands to his face in order to wipe away the embers and in that moment he lets his guard down. The next thing he knows is a different pain stabbing him – the one of two rows of sharp teeth being impaled into the flesh of his neck – and a crushing weight bringing him down. Roars echo scattered in pieces in the air as Simba shifts into a lion under Scar's teeth and tries to free himself from the shackles of his jaws. He hits him with his claws, punches him and strikes him again and again until the slightest of breach is being formed and he is able to release himself. Simba throws Scar a heavy blow which results to him pulling away. Both of the opponents are quick to recover, they jump on their hind feet and collide with the speed and force of a thousand comets.
The fight is brutal and bloody, the opponents equal – the one is powerful and angry while the other is cunning and sneaky. Simba scratches the side of Scar's face but that barely made him flinch. Scar retaliates by clawing Simba's face twice, the blades of his paws cut the golden lion deep, causing Simba to roar in pain. Simba manages to shake the pain away and when he strikes again he makes it matter. He throws a full-clawed punch on Scar and he bellows in anguish. But that only dizzies the black-mained lion and he throws a stronger clawed punch against Simba's head. The latter roars again while the other throws the final punch which tosses Simba by the edge of the cliff.
Simba lies on his back with his arms open like an angel with broken wings, a warrior waiting for the blade of the sword to run through his body and finish him off. And then he sees it. Scar pouncing over the flames, the monstrous demon which aims to take away his ability to draw breath. But Simba would be damned if he'd allow him to even have the chance! Moving swiftly and cunningly, he lifts his feet and places them below Scar's stomach. He used all the force he had in him to shove Scar over his head and over the edge of the cliff. He heard his body pounding against the walls of the Rock as he was descending, eventually crushing on the ground. Simba picked himself up and looked down, finding his foe lying on the solid earth in his human form.
The first thing Scar sees when he regains his conscious is Shenzi, Banzai and Ed standing before him. They don't look very happy to be honest. "Ahh, my friends" he says, in a way relieved to see them. Unfortunately the reply to his greeting is the cold, sarcastic and scornful laughter of Shenzi. "Friends? I thought he said we were the enemy" she said maliciously, the look in her eyes giving away her bad intentions. "Yeah" says Banzai, a matching grin decorating his own face. "That's what I heard". All the color had disappeared from Scar's face and his eyes are filled with terror. "Ed?" they ask simultaneously. "Oo-oo-ooh, he-he, he-he-he" is the only thing the lunatic werehyena is able to say but they still get the point. He licks his lips for emphasis.
Soon the rest of the werehyena pack gathers and they circle Scar. He tries to talk them out of this, but the wild dogs are not exactly creatures of reason. They pounce on him one by one and feed off of him as he is screaming and begging for his life. His death is slow but his end is sealed.
The great battle is over and the war is won. Grey clouds gather over the Pride Rock and soon the rain starts pouring. An act of mourning for the lost souls and at the same time a way of entirely cleansing this sacred ground from the existence of evil. The tears of heaven put out the fire and wash away the ruins of the fight.
The pride's warriors and defenders returns to the courtyard – Timon and Pumbaa, the werelionesses, Rafiki, Zazu – and just as they are about to wonder where their Alpha might be...they see him coming down the trail. Alone. His wheaten skin is stained by blood, his hair and face are dirty and his armor buries claw marks. His looks might show a terrible state but the look in his ruby eyes speak of tranquility, reassurance and triumph. No more proof is needed to tell Simba's comrades that he's been crowned victorious.
In his descent, he passes next to Zazu who bows his head in respect. The werelionesses who pass by him do the same, adding a glance of gratitude and awe in there as well. Simba is warmly reunited with Sarabi, who finally has the chance to embrace her son after all these years and welcome him back home. The pride and joy that lies in her gaze cannot be described with simple words. An equally emotional reunion happens shortly afterwards between Simba and Nala. The two mates share a meaningful kiss in a moment of affection which could last for much much longer if the sound of druid's cane dancing in the wind hadn't been heard. All eyes are now on Rafiki, he gestures his cane to the direction of the stoney aisle. He invites Simba to takes his place on the throne.
The lad stares at the Rock with uncertain eyes for a second but then he takes a deep calming breath and steps forward. When he gets at Rafiki, the old man bows in respect but Simba pulls him in an impulsive hug. Rafiki gives him a friendly pad on the back before pulling away in order to lock eyes with him. "It is time" he says and Simba nods.
All eyes are glued on him as he makes his way on the stoney aisle, getting closer and closer to the edge of the Rock. Nala and Sarabi stare him in pride, Timon and Pumbaa in amazement and Zazu in awe. Once Simba reaches the edge, he raises his gaze to the sky as if he is looking for a sign that he is doing good. And then he sees that the clouds over his head have been separated, cut open right in the middle, exposing a light shred of clear night sky – the same way it happened the day he was introduced to the world as the heir to the throne. "Remember..." it's the voice of Mufasa calling out to his son from the great beyond for one last time. I will Simba promises with all his soul. His gaze then turns forwards, to the horizon and to the future. A smile full of self-confidence is being born in his face. And then he roars the loudest of roars. The King has returned.
The werelionesses unite their roars with his own, accepting him as their King and validating his place as an Alpha.
Finally the new glorious era is about to begin.