To yellow 14: We shall see what happens to Popo once they get to him…
To Butterfly: We haven't even gotten to the real mind-blow yet! And on that note…
To Lyger 0: Growll and Barkk actually aren't just friends; it doesn't come up in this story, but their miraculous form a cross-set dyad (Fear and Loyalty aren't total opposites, but close) – that's why their abilities parallel each other so closely. There aren't too many of those cross-set dyads, but there are a few. And we shall see just how Popo responds to the failure of his minions.
Standing at the front of the group and picking his way along the narrow trail – not much more than a strip of bare dirt between the trees, only wide enough for two people to walk abreast – King Monkey was keenly aware of just how far he had come outside his comfort zone. When he was just here to use Uproar to stop someone from misusing a miraculous and hurting innocent people, things had seemed so much simpler. The guy with the miraculous was bad; they were good.
So of course things couldn't actually be that simple.
King Monkey looked sideways at Abdi in the late afternoon light, the boy who'd been their enemy less than twenty minutes earlier. Now they were following him through the forest toward his (former) warlord's stockade, where they would have to fight his (former) comrades to rescue the hostages, one of which was Abdi's sister. The (ex-)militant held his head up, a firm set to his jaw, staring straight ahead without speaking. He couldn't be much older than 13 – not much more than a kid, younger than Kim had been the first time he received the Monkey Miraculous. And yet it was clear that his year with Popo had aged him.
But for all of that, at the end of the day Abdi was still just a kid trying to keep his sister safe (safe-ish, he reminded himself). King Monkey didn't have any siblings, but could he honestly say he wouldn't do the same to protect his mother? Or Max or Alix or any of his friends? He opened the screen on his staff and found a picture of Ondine. She was safe in Paris, but Abdi's sister wasn't safe. So he would help this kid to rescue his sister, and then he would return home to see his girl.
The trees had only just begun to thin when Abdi turned sharply to the right and stepped off the trail into the underbrush. King Monkey stopped and looked at him suspiciously. Abdi glanced back and explained, "The sentries will see us if we follow the path much further. But there is a break in the fence on this side of the camp where the stockade meets the forest."
King Monkey checked the rest of the group to find Maroodiga Cawlan staring at him. He shrugged and followed Abdi off the trail, stepping carefully to avoid crunching any fallen branches under his feet. Behind them the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows through the trees. "Are we going to be silhouetted?" King Monkey wondered as he began to catch glimpses of the makeshift wooden stockade in the distance beyond the forest.
Behind him, Maroodiga Cawlan chuckled. "This might actually be our best-case scenario," he answered. "This will place the sun in the eyes of anyone looking this direction. And if they have a glass – a scope or binoculars – the sun will reflect off it for us to see."
They had walked a couple kilometers south when Abdi turned again and led them just inside the tree line, only a few meters from the camp stockade. He stopped a little way down, looked in either direction, and dropped to his hands and knees to crawl under the fence between two slats. King Monkey quickly followed him through, looking in both directions as he emerged within the militants' camp in a narrow lane between the fence and the outermost row of tents. He couldn't see anyone, and apart from the sound of his companions, his miraculous-enhanced hearing didn't pick up any noise nearby. Abdi crouched by the corner of the closest tent, his head poking between the tents on lookout. King Monkey hunched over and raced to join him. They were quickly joined by Maroodiga Cawlan, Ngarayap, Sent-Bee, and Roqonsa Saada bringing up the rear.
"Popo's tent is at the very center of the camp," Abdi whispered hurriedly. "If the tents are all empty, that means he probably called an assembly."
Maroodiga Cawlan nodded briskly. "We stick together for now, split when we get closer." He gave Abdi an expectant look.
Abdi swallowed hard but plunged into the space between the tents, jogging hunched over to keep his head below the level of the tents. King Monkey stuck as close to him as he could without stepping on his heels, all his senses focused on his surroundings. However, beyond the all-pervasive stench of sulfur he had first picked up when they entered the camp and seemed to grow with every step, he noticed nothing out of the ordinary. Each line of tents they ran past was as deserted as the last. By now the sun had dipped close to the horizon; it would be dark in less than an hour. Finally, when they were almost to the center of the camp, King Monkey heard the slight rustling of clothing from beyond the next row of tents.
Maroodiga Cawlan tapped on King Monkey's shoulder and pointed ahead before patting his own chest and pointing to the left. He indicated Roqonsa Saada with his thumb and gestured to the right. King Monkey nodded and chased after Abdi, listening as the others' footsteps diverged behind them. Abdi stopped at the corner of a tent, and King Monkey caught a glimpse past him of rows of men in dark clothing standing in lines facing away from them, the assembly area only lit by a single lantern.
"Is it always so dark in your camp?" King Monkey whispered, ducking behind the tent before any of the militants could turn and see him.
Abdi nodded. "Popo doesn't like lanterns or flashlights – he thinks they will ruin our night vision," he explained. "And he forbids fires apart from cooking because he doesn't want to risk the tents catching fire." He pulled the tent flap back fractionally before beckoning King Monkey inside. King Monkey frowned suspiciously but followed.
The tent had four rough cots and two small chests but was otherwise unfurnished. Abdi crossed the tent to the opposite flap without hesitation and peeked out through it. King Monkey joined him and found a small space between two militants through which to watch the events in the center of the camp. A man with midnight-black skin sat in a high-backed chair, staring at the three figured before him – the same three who had escaped from the village. He asked a question in a soft voice, and the big guy – Goota-Lolaa – made a quiet reply. The man in the chair frowned, eyeing him ominously. Abdi began translating quietly.
"I gave you a very simple task," whispered Popo, staring down at Goota-Lolaa over his steepled fingers.
"Yes, sir." Goota-Lolaa swallowed and averted his eyes to the ground. "We did as best we could but were driven away."
Popo scoffed. "These poor villagers defeated you?" he demanded. "If that is the case, then I have no use for you." He raised his hand, and the militants on either side of his chair raised their rifles.
"It wasn't the villagers," explained Goota-Lolaa, speaking quickly. "They were miraculous users – they defended the village and forced me to call the retreat. We three were lucky to escape."
Popo rose to his feet. "You fought miraculous users and lost?" He snorted. "I should have expected as much. But where is my pet miraculous user?" Abdi flinched at that, eyes narrowing in anger.
"I do not know, master," Goota-Lolaa responded, shaking his head, his shoulders trembling.
"The boy was weak," offered Hunda Beekaa with a scoff. "His ultimate failure was inevitable."
"Perhaps," agreed Popo ominously. "Yet it is unfortunate all the same. I shall deal with the three of you soon enough. But for the moment…" He snapped his fingers, and a girl the same age as Abdi stepped hesitantly out of the tent behind him. Her unkempt brown hair reached to the middle of her back.
"Aisha…" whispered Abdi, his jaw set in a line, eyes narrowed in barely-restrained anger.
"Don't do anything stupid, bro," King Monkey warned him, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Your brother has failed me," Popo stated, his voice devoid of emotion. Aisha stared up at him wide-eyed. "You understand what that means, do you not, child?" Aisha stood, frozen in fear, her lip trembling. Popo slapped her callously across the face, the sound of the impact ringing in the silence of the camp. Aisha fell to the ground with a cry. Popo grabbed the front of her dress and hauled her up, holding her one-handed, her feet dangling off the ground.
Abdi lunged for the tent flap, but King Monkey threw an arm around his chest and pulled him back. "If you go out there, now, he's definitely going to kill her!" he hissed into the boy's ear.
"I can't just sit here and do nothing!" Abdi retorted heatedly, squirming against King Monkey's grip.
"M–miti!" whimpered Aisha. "Miti maaloo!" She clutched Popo's wrist with both hands. Popo drew her face close to his own, licking his lips.
"Oh, đụ," King Monkey cursed, glaring at the scene on the far side of the assembly. "If we don't do something right the hell now, she is seriously đụ!"
"Right, time to move," Maroodiga Cawlan called over the communicator. Suddenly all hell broke loose in the camp.
Roqonsa Saada bellowed at the top of her lungs and charged into the assembly from the right side, laying into the militants to either side of her with her fly whisk. Soldiers scattered in all directions to get away from her. Bullets deflected off of her in all directions as they finally brought their rifles to bear on her. King Monkey almost missed the speck – smaller than a Kwami by half – that jumped off Roqonsa Saada's shoulder and landed on the closest man's chest. The man swatted at Ngarayap, slapping his own chest, but she leapt, punched him in the chin, and sailed away, shooting her grappling hook and catching it around the nearest soldier's wrist, pulling herself toward him. By the time Ngarayap had dispatched that militant Roqonsa Saada had already barreled through the crowd and reached the center of the assembly, where Popo – still holding Aisha by the throat – backed away and threw Aisha into his tent, placing Goota-Lolaa, Hunda Beekaa, and the Bulguu between himself and Roqonsa Saada. Hunda Beekaa raised his staff and pointed it at her, but Roqonsa Saada snagged the staff in her fly whisk and jerked it out of his hands, snapping it over her knee. Hunda Beekaa stumbled back away from her, rheumy eyes widening with fear. Goota-Lolaa raised his Shunjar rifle and fired pointblank at Roqonsa Saada, who dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the energy blast. The energy beam struck a tent on the far side of the field, setting it alight, casting flickering shadows across the battleground.
From the opposite side of the assembly Maroodiga Cawlan charged out, Sent-Bee hot on his heels. Maroodiga Cawlan flicked out his hose, sweeping the first rank of militants off their feet. Sent-Bee lobbed a grenade over the heads of the militants and into the crowd, dousing a dozen more with synth-Venom and leaving them frozen in place. Maroodiga Cawlan spun his hose in front of them, deflecting a barrage of bullets, and spun into a roundhouse kick, sending the closest militant sailing through the group to one side, laying out another dozen as he flew. A militant aimed his gun at Maroodiga Cawlan's back, only for Sent-Bee to loop her yo-yo around the barrel and jerk it to the side. Instead of shooting Maroodiga Cawlan, the militant sprayed his compatriots.
King Monkey frowned. Why did he always have to be the one sitting on the sidelines and waiting until they needed him?
As the heroes converged on the center of the field, the militants scattered, leaving Popo virtually alone, his back to his tent, only a half-dozen of his men standing between him and the heroes. And yet, the warlord seemed unperturbed by the turn of events. King Monkey narrowed his eyes suspiciously, Abdi quivering next to him.
"I had hoped you miraculous users would come," Popo sneered, eyes alight with malignant fury.
"You've lost!" shouted Maroodiga Cawlan. "Give up now and you will live!"
Popo laughed maliciously. "I could say the same to you!" The last rays of the sun disappeared behind the mountains. Popo's voice took on a higher timbre. "Except that you will not live! I do not need numbers to defeat the likes of you!"
It took King Monkey's eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness; as they did, he thought he saw Popo's features distort and shift, as though his head were growing while the rest of his body shrunk. And then King Monkey realized he wasn't imagining it: Popo's skin turned to a milky white as long, leathery wings extended down from Popo's now-clawed hands. In place of human feet he had three clawed talons. His face had become rounder, rows of razor-sharp teeth protruding from his open jaws below a single large eye. The creature leaned its head back and let out a primal screech.
"Đụ!" Without hesitating, King Monkey raced out of the tent, his staff spinning to one side, and sprinted across the body-strewn battlefield separating him from the others.
AN: Yet again it's Kim's POV and he doesn't understand the language. This time it's Oromo. Unfortunately all I have to work with is a dictionary, so I can't exactly attest to the grammatical correctness of anything…
Miti – "no"
Maaloo – "please"
"đụ" is Vietnamese; take a guess what it means…
Any guesses as to who/what Popo is?