Chapter 4

Back in the Outlands, gathered near Golgorath, another historical meeting was taking place.

Janja watched the proceedings with disinterest, as Jasiri paced up and down, her anxiety apparent to any who knew her. Jasiri, put on a show of confidence and certainty, but he knew her better than that. She was worried. And to be fair to her, he almost agreed with her. Not that he said as much out loud. Instead, he lounged on the rocks outside of the termite mound Spire of Zira's former lair, and picked his teeth with a narrow bird bone, occasionally glaring at the various other outlanders, warning them to keep their distance, and to reconsider any thoughts of funny business. More and more of the creatures of the Outlands arrived, at the base of Golgorath, on the sun scorched earth. The sun beat down height above them, and the shadows cast by the mighty spires of the termite mounds about stretched out around them like the fingers of some great black hand.

Jasiri swallowed, looking around herself at the various different packs and tribes of Outlanders. She was vaguely surprised that Mzingo and his vultures had been so successful in persuading the others to even agree to meet her. She expected at least a pawful to outright ignore her pleas. As it happened, Dogo gave her a familiar smile in greeting from where he stood, surrounding by his siblings, though how sincere it was anyone's guess. Dogo would smile at someone before biting their eyes out. But his manner was relaxed and friendly. Quite a few jackals attended in significant numbers. That was good. Whilst Dogo didn't command the same level of respect from the other packs that his mother had, he still represented his not insignificant family, and a number of other jackals and families. Kiburi was there of course. Crocodiles were long lived, and whilst Kiburi and his small flotilla of crocodiles were guppies compared to the River Lords that commanded the Great River, they were in attendance nonetheless and were powerful fighters. Mzingo and his vultures were there as well. As were Shupavu's brightly coloured group of skinks and chameleons. A veritable rainbow of reptiles indeed. The coldblooded ones were an inscrutable bunch, but Scar had found them useful as spies nonetheless. Jasiri swallowed. It was rare that so many of the Outlanders were gathered in one place. Usually it meant a fight or some disagreement between the various factions within the Outlands. Today, it was apparently intended to rely on the absolute opposite.

"Is everyone here?" Jasiri asked, burying her uncertainty and speaking with authority for the first time.
"Everyone that wants to be." Kiburi told her. Jasiri nodded.

"Well, then. I take it by now you've all heard about what's been happening in the Pridelands?" She asked. There was considerable murmuring and noise at that. She winced. Maybe she shouldn't have started with that.

"Who cares what goes on the Pridelands?" One of the jackals asked her. One of Dogo's siblings. "Nothing to do with us." She said.

"It is if we're next." Jasiri reminded him.

"I've seen many conflicts, and many rulers. It seems to me most likely that one of the Great Clans in the Shadowlands is finally waking up." Kiburi told them. The provoked a reaction. More than a few accusatory eyes fell on Jasiri and her pack of hyenas.

"How would you know?" Mzingo said. "You're an outcast from the Shadowlands. How would any of you have the faintest idea what was going through the heads of the Matriarchs of the Shadowlands?"

"The only one that borders the Pridelands is the Spotted Clan, and trust me, they have no reason to seek to antagonise Simba or the Pridelands. They suffered enough under Scar's rule. They just want to be left alone." Jasiri said confidently. That didn't seem to mollify the other Outlanders much. Most of them looked at her with disbelief, unable to conceive of a world where hyenas would desire peace with the Pridelands.

"You may be right." Kiburi said. "And if Simba shares your view, it won't be long before they assume, we are responsible." The crocodile said. "We ought to take the initiative." He slammed his tail into the ground for emphasis. The other crocodiles nodded in agreement at that, but the Jasiri could already hear the hyenas behind her reacting with annoyance at that.

"What would you have us do? Send Simba flowers and some collected fruits?" Madoa asked. Madao was a good friend of Jasiri, and not usually prone to outbursts of sarcasm and snark, but even she had her limits.

"Nonsense. We just need to speak to Simba. Let him know that it's nothing to do with us. Problem solved. Maybe Kiburi can get Pua's float to carry a message for us. Or maybe just get Jasiri to drop by. They don't seem to object when you pay a visit." Dogo said, with the faintest hostility in her voice. Everyone knew about her "special relationship" with Kion's old Lion Guard. But that was a long time ago, in a different time. She'd be lucky to get close to Pride Rock these days.

"Problem not solved. For one, even if we could get to Pride Rock, why would even believe us?" Kiburi asked. "No, we need to get a message to someone that would be trusted, invite the guard to pay a visit. Share what we know. Maybe when the Kings blue Majordomo is near the border, Mzingo can call out to him?" He suggested. "I know a few tickbirds that might be willing to carry a message…"

"Hold up, hold up!" Jasiri snapped. "Everyone. Please. You're missing the point here. I'm not talking about just protesting our innocence to the King and hoping he leaves us alone." Jasiri said. Janja looked at her in surprise this was new to him. What was Jasiri thinking about?

"I mean… What else can we do?" Dogo asked her, the male jackal looked genuinely perplexed. Jasiri smiled.

"Whoever, or whatever, is attacking the Pridelands has to be getting in and out somehow. We should patrol the borders. Take it in turns to watch for whatever this thing is, and try to put a stop to it. And we invite the Lion Guard into the Outlands to try to track down whatever it is." He said.

Pandemonium erupted.

"Absolutely not!" Kiburi snarled.

"Never!" Dogo roared. Even Janja found himself distinctly uncomfortable. Kion's Guard had entered the Outlands on occasion, but that was usually to rescue someone taken against their will, or to help an ally of the guard at their explicit request. Even then they had risked much when they did so. It was a flagrant violation of their borders! Any Outlander risked losing a pound of flesh for violating the borders of the Pridelands. The reverse was also true, that was the way of things. Letting the Lion Guard operate in the Outlands without hinderance was unthinkable, it was barely any different to swearing fealty to the King of the Pridelands.

The last time the Lion Guard had been deployed into the Outlands, it had been under the reign of Ahadi, and that had led to one of the longest running periods of bloodshed in the Pridelands history. No one wanted that. The Outlands were the Outlands for a reason. It was a home to exiles, reavers and outcasts. Not the Pridelands lackies, and certainly not their subjects.

"The Lion Guard is made up of former Outsiders! I hope you can remember Zira's Pride! And you want to invite them back! Dogo asked her in disbelief. Zira's Pride has been more than willing to fight them for control of the Outlands meagre resources. Jasiri could remember well being forced out of their watering hole by Zira.

"Everyone! Listen! Simba is – EVERYONE. Simba is a decent and honest King, if he gives his word-"

"Zebra dung! We are not subjects of the Pridelands, Jasiri! We are not ruled by him! We don't have any crowns here. Zira, Simba, Scar, they are all the same!" Dogo said. Jasiri was disheartened by the number of her own hyenas who.

"Jasiri may have a point." Kiburi said unexpectedly. "It may wise to make a show of faith to Simba. To sooth any doubts as to our intentions for the Pridelands. Peace must be maintained. But We will Not submit to handing over authority to the Lion Guard in our lands." He said, confidently.

"Vitani –"

"Vitani isn't Kion, Jasiri." Kiburi said in a voice that brokered no argument. "She is the daughter of the Devil-Queen. Sister of Scar's Heir. Her meddlesome 'Guard' can stay in the Pridelands borders, where it belongs. Or there will be violence." Kiburi said, firmly. "You are right. We should be on the lookout for any sign of this…attacker… and when we know something for sure, it is in our interests to share this information Simba. But we are not his subjects, and the Guard shall not be welcome here. The crocodiles shall never sanction that." Kiburi growled.

"Oh Please." Came a new voice, causing the various animals to look over in surprise at the interloper. "You're servants of Simba in all but name. And she's his little puppet." It said. The owner of the voice, glared at her with yellow eyes, and Jasiri tried to keep the sudden jolt of panic out of her voice.

A wilddog. It perched on the rocks nearby with an easy grace, looking entirely at home, even though she had never seen it before. Wilddogs were not a part of their gathering. They had never shown any interest in cooperation before, and this particular once was certainly no member of her pact, not a remnant of the rebels who had communed with Scar's spirit in the Outlands. Even in death, Scar would never have found himself working with wilddogs.

The wilddog approached the gathering with a look of arrogance that immediately sent off cries of alarm in her head. And he was not by his lonesome. Many more pairs of yellow eyes gleamed back at her. There were over a dozen of them, maybe more. More than any other group. It looked as though an entire pack of wilddogs had arrived, not just its leaders. And more than that, they appeared ready for a fight. The other Outlanders jerked up, growled threateningly, and drew claws. Janja looked prepared to fight right away until Jasiri held up a quick claw. This wasn't the Pridelands. There was no parley or decorum to observe here. The moment it took any of their number's fancy, they would attack one another. The tension flooded the gathering.

"Forgive me, but we are citizens of the Outlands too, are we not? Or are only members of your little 'peace-pact' welcome here?" The wilddog sneered at her. Jasiri stared. She hadn't explicitly forbidden anyone else, but she had no idea that Mzingo had spoken to these, these barbarians as well!

"Who are you supposed to be?" Jasiri asked him, sounding shaken for the first time. "And what do you mean? Puppet!"

"I am Pack-Leader Grimspite. It's a pleasure to meet the so-called Queen in the Outlands. Even if you do rule in Simba's name." The wilddog said. Jasiri took a closer look as the newcomer. The wilddogs looked almost like jackals, albeit squatter, and with their golden fur mottled with black splodges of darkness that made them more adept at night hunting. This particular pack of wilddogs looked particularly vicious, with jaws that looked well used to crunching on bone, and tearing through flesh. Janja noticed to, and he was looking nervous. Now was the time to tread carefully. Not to pick a fight. But she couldn't help feeling slighted by these interlopers.

The rest of the Outlanders reacted similarly, some reacting in shock, others in annoyance, and still more in alarm.

"Wilddogs!" One of Dogo's sisters gasped in surprise, and the other creatures leapt to their feet, staring at the newcomers and gauging them as threats. All eyes were now upon the leader.

"What are you doing here?" Jasiri asked him. "You aren't welcome in these parts. What do you want?" She asked. The wilddog gave a laugh. It was not the high pitched, crazed laughter of the hyenas. More of a sinister chuckle, and all the more disconcerting for it.

"Doesn't it bother anyone else? Of course, that's what she'd recommend! It's no secret that little Jasiri here is loyal to the Pridelands! She was practically put into power by Simba and his Son. Is it any wonder that she wants the Outlands to bow and scrape to the Pridelands? She was always hanging out with Kion, always helping the Lion Guard rather than her own kind. Everyone knows the rumours of Kion and his hyena pet in the Outlands. Just like Scar the Butcher." The wilddog said. Jasiri knew he was trying to get a rise out of her, but she could feel her face flush with embarrassment.

"Kion was nothing like Scar!" Jasiri snapped.

"Hah! See – that's where she gets offended!" Grimspite sneered. "Shows what important to her."

"It shows she is loyal to her friends." Janja snapped. "Like she is to us." He shot a warning look around to the other gathered outlanders. The hyenas looked angry on her behalf, and so did some of the Outlanders, but many more looked dubious at the claims. She had after all, only minutes before advocated for inviting the Lion Guard into the Outlands. Jasiri snarled, baring her teeth in fury.

"Enough talk. There's no question that Jasiri has proved her loyalty." Dogo said. Jasiri looked in surprise at the vote of confidence from the Jackal leader. The two had never been close, but Dogo was glaring at the interloper with his own expression of annoyance.

"If she prefers the company of prissy lions, then what of it? She's could've lived in the Pridelands if she wanted to, everyone knows that. She stayed here. Even during Zira's reign. We know her. We don't know who you are. And she is right. You aren't welcome here. Say what you came here to say, or get lost. If you've just come here to throw insults, get going before we decide to give you a proper outlander welcoming." He said fiercely. Once again, the outlanders were united, and the wilddog hesitated, as if sensing that he mood of the crowd had once more turned against him. Nevertheless, he pressed forward.

"Is that what the Outlands have become? You hear of some new threat facing the Pridelands and you huddle and hide together, like worms under a rock. Worse, you have a meeting." He sneered.

At that, Janja could no longer contain himself.

"Oh yeah?!" He asked him. "What would you do then? And why have you come here? Other than to gloat about your superior-ness?" He asked him. The wilddog leader cocked his head

"I'll tell you what I am here for: I am here to offer you something different to Jasiri's benighted rule. Something other than her subservience to the throne of the Lion Kings! Something that our people have been searching for, for generations. Loyalty to something other than Simba's theocracy to the Circle of Life." Kiburi snorted at the pronouncement and Grimspite glared at the crocodile with contempt. "You've already felt it. Lurking, in the edge of Pridelands. Spreading terror where it goes. And the Pridelands are defenceless against it." He said jubilantly. That brought Jasiri's thoughts to a screeching halt.

"Jasiri…" Janja muttered in warning. The other wilddogs were grinning like fools, and it was unnerving to see their foes so filled with mirth whilst hyenas looked about nervously. The wilddogs stared down at the other Outlanders. There was no camaraderie to be found in their expressions. Except for their leader, they seemed almost bored. They took no joy in their presence, nor in the threats uttered by their leader. Instead they glowered with focus and barely contained anger. Each of them, the picture of restrained violence, each of them a tight coil of aggression and muscle and teeth. Jasiri almost hesitated. There were a great many of them. Grimspite, their leader continued to glower at Jasiri. Behind her Madoa shied away from his foul expression. Dogo was shaking his head. The jackals looked about in alarm.

"That's impossible." He said. "You?" Jasiri shared his disbelief.

"Dung." She pronounced. "Zebra dung. Am I expected to believe that you are the mysterious new threat facing the Pridelands?" She asked him, unable to contain her mirth. "The wilddogs haven't been a threat to the Pridelands in three generations. You're a scattered people, and a broken race." She said. Grimspite crowed in laughter at that reassurance.

"Everyone here is a scattered member from a broken race. I don't see you with your kind in the Shadowlands, Jasiri. Nor Kiburi among the spawn of the River Lords. You're a tribe of outcasts whose own people can't stand the sight of you. You could be wiped out and no one would mourn you. I am offering you something better. Something greater than your meaningless existence." He sneered.

"Our lives are not meaningless. Perhaps that was once true." Kiburi said, the crocodile once more adding his voice to the chorus, to Dogo's approving nod. "But if you wanted to offer us a chance to change, you've come too late. Change has already come to the Outlands. We may disagree on how best to act, but we act as one now. Threaten one of us, and you threaten all of us." The cold rumbling voice of Kiburi the crocodile echoed out from where he sat with three other members of his float. For once, Jasiri was glad of his presence. Crocodiles were difficult to fight, even on land and out of their element, and it was gratifying to see Kiburi taking their pact seriously for once. Grimspite didn't seem concerned with that pronouncement.

"Is that right? You would act in defence of each other? How disappointing…" The wilddog asked him, his face pulled into an expression of intense disgust and distaste. Janja was already on his feet. There was a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. Already he could tell that today would end in blood. Though whose it remained to be seen.

"Why shouldn't we? The Pridelands aren't the only ones to get stronger together, wilddog." Jasiri said. The jackals gave a growl of affirmation. The wilddog however only rolled his eyes.

"Despicable. You have already become Pridelanders in all but name." He snorted. "You'll drag each other down. You know it." He said. "Only the strong should rule. Only the worthy."

Jasiri rolled her eyes. That particular philosophy wasn't anything new in the outlands. It had been about for generations, parroted by zealots and reavers for as long as anyone could remember. It had only ever invited confrontation with the Pridelands, and it was a path that only lead to inevitable demise. Whoever you were, whatever you were, there was always someone stronger that you. That was inevitable. Janja could hold his tongue no longer.

"You want us to believe that you are responsible for what's happening in the Pridelands? Ha! Fine. Prove it! Get outta here. If you're so tough go ahead! Go and try your luck against the Pridelands. Go and try it! They'll be waiting for ya, the Lion Guard. They'll chew ya up like gristle and ya know it." He said, confidently.

"So much fear for The Prideland's Guard. They may be strong. But they are not the strongest. And the Roar of the Elders is not the only ancient power in the Pridelands."

"What are you-"

"When I said the strongest should rule, I never said that it would be us." Grimspite said. That brought up Jasiri sharply.

"What –" but before she should so much as raise an alarm, another voice boomed out.

"You need to watch your mouth, Grimspite. Before I rip it off. You are correct however: The power of the Lion Guard is of no concern to us." A calamitous voice said. It rumbled out across the Outlands, softly spoken, but cutting through the air like lightning through the sky. All gathered, the jackals, the hyenas, the crocodiles whirled around in the direction of the voice that had somehow approached with such stealth that until it had spoken not a single one of them had the faintest hint that it was there. The unnatural, unearthly stillness that permeated its pronouncement was shattered, despite no one making a sound. The owner of the voice emerged from a rocky outcrop nearby, and glared down at the gathered outlanders with an imperious expression.

Jasiri and Janja were stunned by what they saw. The wilddog leader immediately sank to a knee, looking away from this creature, and did not meet its gaze. The other wilddogs followed suit in less than a heartbeat, and less than a second later Jasiri understood why.

The creature was a feline, that much was undeniable. Like a lion in shape and form. And yet it was something else entirely. This creature was larger than even the largest of the great Kings. It possessed colossal teeth and great scythe-like claws, that punctured the dirt covered sun-baked rock with every step it took. But most strikingly of all was its colouration. Fur of a blistering orange, burning like flames stood out on its back, glimmering in the sunlight. Astride its orange fur, great stripes of darkness wreathed it in shadows. It might have reminded her of a zebra, or a stripped hyena, were it not for the fact that it resembled a zebra only in that it walked upon four legs. Each muscle and tendon rippled with strength, and each and every other aspect of this great mammal was attuned only to slaughter, to death. The stripes hung across his form, giving him an unearthly look that inspired thoughts of shadow and flame.

Jasiri took an involuntary step backwards at the monster's approach. He was easily twice her size, and she was already considered a large member of her species, able to contend with lionesses. This beast, this monstrosity had size, strength, and natural weapons in excess of her. Even its voice spoke with a tremble as if the ground itself shook in agitation and fear at his words.

"Who… Who are you?! What are you?" Jasiri asked him. The creature looked upon with an expression of barely veiled disgust.

"I am called Rish'ut. I lead these wilddogs. You would do well to head my words, Jasiri, Lady of the Outlands." He commanded her. Jasiri stared at him in horror. It was suddenly all to apparent what creature stalked the lands of the Serengeti. How it had entered the Pridelands – or even the Outlands – without being seen was a mystery to her, but it was clear that this beast, this abomination would have no issue slaughtering whole herds of zebra. The why and the how were of no consequence to her. That didn't matter now.

"What do you want?" She asked him. The tiger, though she had no concept of the word, stared down at her, and she had the uneasy feeling she was being measured with his gaze. They bore down upon her, and she could feel her mouth go dry. Spirits. He could tear her to pieces in an instant if he wanted to.

"I am a messenger, serving a greater power than either of us, Jasiri. And it is my honour to inform you, that your lives as you know them are over. The outlands are no more. Your pitiful lives are no more. Your existence is no more."

He jumped down from the rocky outcrop and landed in front of her. Dust and dirt was thrown up about him. He showed not the faintest hint of pain, though the landing would have bruised.

"We are theImperium. And all of your kind, now lives only to serve us."He said. It was a statement of fact, made all the worse, by Rish'ut obvious pleasure in the terror that could be felt emanating from the other gathered outlanders. They had never seen anything like this before. She doubted even Kion, with all his travels, had met such a beast. The hyenas by now were all on their feet, gathering behind Jasiri, and Janja found to his surprise that he was with them, baring teeth.

"This is your offering?" She snapped to Grimspite. "Service to this, monster? You accuse me of bowing and scraping to Simba, only to kneel to someone else in turn?" Her accusation hit home, because her voice was joined moments later by the guttural growl of one indignant crocodile.

"I have no desire to serve as Simba's lackies. But I have even less motive to bow to some… creature… from the east in his place. Simba at least, earned his dominance." Kiburi said. Finally, the others reacted to that, and gave nods and shouts of agreement. Jasiri was relived. For a moment she had feared the reaction of the Outlanders, and felt them turning on her. But no. As much as they hated the idea of becoming subjects of Pride Rock, they were not ones to trade allegiance to the Pridelands for slavery to a would-be-conqueror.

"You're mistaken, Grimspite. Whatever you may think of me, know this about the Outlanders! We don't serve anyone. Not Simba. And certainly not him and his Imperium." Jasiri said, with more bravado then she felt.

The creature gave a grin at her defiance, as if amused by her words. It drove her to anger, seeing him treat her defiance in such a manner. Next to it, Grimspite and the other wilddogs still kneeling in supplication to this creature. But now they rose to their feet. Janga felt the hairs on his back stand on end.

"I know you don't." He said, with a dangerous grin on his face. It was an expression that border on delight. "Which is why, these wilddogs, and anyone else who agrees to serve, shall have a place in the new world we are building. And why you do not." With a flick of his claw, he stepped back behind his group of wilddogs, and the canines rushed forward. It barely took a moment to register, before-.

"Jasiri!" Janja cried out, and suddenly he was there by her side, growling and snarling, and throwing himself with reckless abandon as the wilddogs attacked the other Outsiders. The vultures flew up into the air and immediately spiralled away, crying out as they did so. To her right, Jasiri's friend Madoa gave a cry of alarm, and found herself having to contend with two more wilddogs. Dogo's clan began to bark and Kiburi snarled, his tail lashing into the ground with enough force to crack the brittle earth, and gave a guttural roar of his own. Then everything dissolved into confusion and madness and Jasiri stumbled back.

Grimspite rushed forward, and she barely ducked in time to avoid the snapping of vicious teeth that closed on empty air where moments before her neck had been. She growled, and returned the bite. The hyenas' bite was stronger, but the wilddog was quicker. He darted back again, and glowered at her. Janja meanwhile was similarly occupied, by an opponent of his own. The minute the wilddogs had attacked, the wilddogs' second-in-command had lunged at him and Janja had been unable to dodge in time. Teeth snapped around a limb, and he gave a shout of pain as blood splashed about them. The down growled, latching on as he did, and Janja twisted in agony, jerking the wilddog along with him, his jaws locked firmly around his limb.

Madoa cried out as more wilddogs rushed the duo, and second wilddog leapt at Jasiri, hoping to drag her to the ground and tear at her throat, only to be slapped out of the air by the whip-crack of Kiburi's tail. The crocodile rushed forward, and with that, the two sides were joined in battle.

Jasiri backed up, once more on the defensive. She was a proud fighter, but despite her frequent altercations with Janja in her youth, she wasn't a natural warrior. Her movements were practiced but basic. She could hear her mother's commands in her head, keeping her limbs tight to her, and her eyes wide open, even as dirt and blood sprayed. It stung her eyes, but that was better than losing focus, and with it the fight. A battle was just a series of fights, and a fight was just a series of moves. Jasiri danced backwards as a second wilddog snapped at the air she had occupied, and suddenly she twisted, and was on the offense. He lunched forwards, and her mouth was filled with the bitter, metallic rush of blood. She felt the bone crack in her jaw, but rather than hold fast, she released the limb and danced away again. The wilddog stumbled back, unable to put any weight on his forearm. He was out of the fight, unless she somehow got too close to him.

Jasiri had no time to celebrate. More wilddogs were rushing them, more than she had seen earlier. This creature, this Rish'ut must have been planning an ambush for some time, holding off only to see who, if any, would join his side before the encounter turned bloody. The others must have been hiding. Again, she cursed. How had they evaded Mzingo's eyes? The vulture was almost as good as Ono or Anga in their prime. How had they eluded his sight? She couldn't ask him though. The vultures had risen into the air the moment the wilddogs had struck, leaving her and her fellow groundbound fighters to face the canine onslaught alone.

The others fared little better. Dogo and his pack had formed a defensive flank, preventing them from being encircled, and the wilddogs, for all their bravado, did not seem keep to engage Kuburi and in float. His leather was like plates of rock, and his teeth and jaws were even sharper than hers. Kuburi lunged at another. Even out of water, the crocodile was a terrible predator. Grimspite rushed at her again, and once more she backed away, only to be stunned when he feinted towards her, and brought his head slamming into hers, his forehead crushing into her muzzle and nose. She staggered back, blood pouring from her nostrils as he clawed at her, knocking her limbs out the way, and trying to get a grip around her throat.

Only her mane stopped him, and bought her a few seconds as he struggled to find purchase on her neck, in which time, she had twisted and pulled away again. That was close. To close. A few inches to the left, or a few seconds to late, and he would already be choking the life out of her.

"Jasiri!" A voice cried out, distracting her for a moment. Jasiri turned, and to her horror saw Madoa being pulled to the ground, two wilddogs biting and snapping at her. She screamed in pain as they ravaged her neck and throat, pained shouts becoming gurgling screams.

"Madoa!" She cried out in panic, and tried to fight her way towards her friend. Then a clawed paw swung at her. It connected with her, and she was sent flying, sailing through the air, until she slammed into the wall of a smaller termite mound. The structure broke apart as she collapsed into it, sending dirt, dust and insects scattering to the air. She gave a cough, and saw blood on the sand. That hadn't been Grimspite. In a few short moments, Rish'ut had moved forward, a blur of speed and ferocity, and his clawed paw had swung towards her. She felt like she'd been hit by a charging rhinoceros, as she crawled to her feet. No. She couldn't lose here. Her head swam, and she felt sick. She looked up in horror, and saw that she hadn't even been the main target. She'd been shoved out the way as the Tiger had surged past her, to strike as Kiburi's exposed back, and with two arcs of his paws, sheared into his seemingly impenetrable. Kiburi struggled as the creature pinned him to the ground with his claws, and closed his jaws around the side of his head. Kiburi struggled, but outside of the water, his movement was limited. He lashed with his tail, but it made no difference as Rish'ut but down harder, his jaw tightening like a vice, tighter, and tighter, squeezing and crushing and piercing until suddenly-

Crack.

Something gave way with a crunch, and Kiburi stopped moving. The creature dropped the crocodile and looked up at her, meeting her gaze with his own scarlet eyes that blazed. Jasiri shrank back, heart pounding. He had just killed a crocodile. By himself. Without even trying.

There was a thud, and Janja landed in a heap next to her. He gasped for ended, winded where a wilddog had kicked him with both hind legs. One eye was sealed shut with blood, that poured from a split over his. Some of the Outlanders had turned and fled, only to be intercepted and chased down by other wilddogs, still fresh and barely warmed up.

Rish'ut stalked over towards her, where she lay in the shadow of the Black Tower. The tiger loomed over her.

"Jasiri…" Janja tried to cough, he was staring at her desperately.

He wanted me to save us. She realised. He's hoping I have a plan.

But there was nothing. She had nothing to try. Dear Kings. She thought. This isn't fair! I was good! I tried to be good! How could this be happening?!

She lunged forward, trusting in the Kings, attacking blindly. Pain shot through her, agonising encompassing pain as a clawed paw slammed down into her. She could count the clawtips that pierced her back, slamming her to the dirt-strewn and blood-soaked ground. Her mouth filled with her own blood as she struck it.

"Truly a shame, Jasiri. You would have made an excellent warrior for the Imperium. You would only have needed to ask." He told her. For a moment he paused, and with a surge of anger, Jasiri realised that he actually expected her to say it! To say the word and serve as a lieutenant of these disgusting, treacherous wilddogs. She spat in his face instead, even as fear clutched at her. I was good! She thought desperately once more.

Rish'ut didn't lift a claw to clear his face of the blood he spat at her. Instead, his tongue lashed out, and wiped it clean. He grimaced at her.

"Jasiri!" Janja gasped again. And Rish'ut raised a claw high again Jasiri went taught, and thrashed, trying to free herself.

"NO!" Janja cried out, and hurled himself at the monstrosity. Rish'ut grunted in surprise, then snarled in fury before slashing down at Janja, who bit and tore in a flurry of anger of his own, twisting and shouting. Again and again Rish'ut's claw fell, Janja grunting and shouting each time. "RUN! Jasiri get up and RUN!" Janja bellowed, desperately.

Blood sprayed, splashing onto Jasiri. It stung her eyes, which remained open, unblinking as she watched in horror as the creature extracted his claws from Janja's back. Gore and gristle clung to them and Janja fell to the ground, gasping as he did so and making only the faintest attempt to rise.

But Jasiri had ran. She leapt over a pair of wilddogs that gnashed at her heels and darted past a nother, skidding on blood as she did so, a shambling mess of wounds and fear and shear unadulterated panic. She fled. She didn't look back. She ran, her heart pounding in her ears. She didn't look to see if any of the other hyenas, or even if any of the other outlands were fleeing with her. She didn't know if any lived, she didn't know if any ran. She sprinted, with blood in her eyes, and every muscle in her body screaming in agony and outrage, away from Golgorath, away from the Outlands, making her way to the one place where she might find some measure of safety, the one place that might be refuge from the wholesale slaughter she had just witnessed, and knowing in her heart of hearts, that it would not be very long before the death and devastation followed her there.

Watching her escape the monstrous figure, looked down at Janja, who breathed out, painfully. His blood was welling beneath him, and he looked up at the monstrous figure, trying to remain as calm as he could. It was of no help. He could feel his heart beating in chest treacherously.

"Such surprising bravery, for a hyena." The colossal creature noted. Janja gave a guttural gasp of pain, as the creature pressed its claw down, deep into the injury. Dear spirits, those claws were like blades. Each three times the length of a lion's claw, and twice as thick.

"What… What are you?!" Janja managed to gasp. The figure cocked its head as if in consideration.

"We are the death of the old order. We are the change that will rip through these lands. We… are the Shai'tan." It said, and pressed his claw down onto the chest wound, penetrating deep into the cavity. More blood welled up around his talon-like claws, Janja gave a strangled cry. Briefly, the spotted hyena struggled as his life drawing away from him. He could feel the ice-cold claws of death on his spine. He fought against it. But he was already falling. Already failing. "Welcome… to the new world." His ruination told him. Then he slipped away.

A few hours later, Rish'ut looked around at the carnage, at the other creatures. He had only needed to intervene with the crocodiles. The rest, the wilddogs had attacked in great numbers, with practiced ease. The creatures of the Outlands had fought bravely, if such vermin could be considered to have courage, but they had lacked experience and practice fighting against such numbers in a dedicated battle. They were used to bringing down prey in ambushes and hunts, or occasionally fighting off a rogue reaver hoping to steal food or water. Not a fight to the death for the sake of it, and it showed. They were restrained. The wilddogs however, had fought with a practiced ferocity that had been unmatched, and had made brutal work of the hyenas, jackals, and other creatures. A pawful had surrendered, making grand promises of loyalty and obedience to their new rulers. The rest had been slain, or else had ran screaming in terror, as Jasiri had done. So much for the Queen in the Outlands. It was pity. They would have made excellent soldiers for the Imperium. There would be more battles in the future. Many more. And the Imperium needed fighters as much as it did spies and informants.

Speaking of informants. There was another task he needed to see to.

"You did well." He said softly, to the bird by his side. Mzingo, the vulture bowed his head. He didn't look happy. In actual fact he looked queasy at the sight of his former allies, strewn across the dirt. Since when did a vulture look at carrion with unease? Rish'ut was unperturbed though, and Mzingo nodded as if to erase any potential doubts.

"Our parliament lives to serve you. I did tell you I could gather your enemies in one place." He said. Rish'ut snorted at that. He doubted the vulture's loyalty, but the vultures were a pragmatic people. He expected their vote to have been close, but there had been only one realistic option upon their discovery of the Imperium. Especially once they learned of the power they had at their disposal. Oh yes, vultures were nothing if not pragmatic. The Pridelands faced annihilation: anyone could see that. Under Jasiri's rule, the Outlands would have joined them in their upcoming extermination. Rish'ut looked displeased though, as he looked out across the Outlands towards the Pridelands, where the faintest silhouette of Pride Rock was visible. The true prize awaited. The vultures had sensed which way the winds were blowing, and wisely changed sides before the inevitable.

"You are Lord of Golgorath now, sire…" Mzingo said, looked behind them at the now termite mound. For years, it had been the seat of the ruler of Outlands. "I guarantee you, the rest of the Outlands will kneel, or they will be knelt. Any who might have resisted your rule are now dead or defeated." Mzingo assured him. Rish'ut permitted himself a smile. Good. Very Good.

As if to verify his attitude, the air around him began to glow with a familiar burning brilliance. It flared and sparked like lightning and flame. And then the air itself began to part. The very fabric of the world began to fold in on itself, and a breach in the skin of the universe opened.

Behind the tear, he could see dark skies. Starlight, and the moon glowing in silver. Where he stood, the morning sun continued to burn down upon him, but through the gateway, night was already drawing fast. A world away, another figure gazed through the rift to the sunlit lands of the Outlands, where Rish'ut stood expectantly. At his look, Rish'ut sank to his knees, even as the wilddogs had to him in fear and respect. Rish'ut stared into the darkness, and several gleaming pairs of red eyes looked back at him. He could make out three pairs, but there were other shapes moving in the darkness. Mzingo strained to see the others. He thought he could see other eyes there, in the shadows. But they winked out again as soon as he peered into them. Rish'ut rose back to full height. Obviously, whomever he had expected to see there, was not present.

"I have good news." Rish'ut told his compatriots. "At long last, the Outlands are ours." He said.

"Then we are closer than ever." One voice said.

"The Seven are gathering. We must continue as planned, Rish'ut. At long last, the Pridelands will be ours again." If Rish'ut voice had been a rumbling thunder, this new voice was as deep as the abyss. It cracked like a glacier, and was as hard as iron ore. Mzingo shuddered, and looked away. Rish'ut did not.

"The Emperor shall be informed of your success. Long live the Imperium."

The Shai'tan simply bowed his head in acceptance, pausing only to glance at the one figure in the shadows who stood on two legs. The strange, ape like creature that stood with his hands wrapped around a stick of gnarled black thornwood, its head topped with a spike like thorn, and adorned with vines and knuckle bones that rattled in the slow wind that could not be felt in the outlands. The shambling creature gave a cruel grin, and his eyes glowed with a literal flame that he could feel across the void. Rish'ut looked back across the gateway to the imperial lands, to the Emperor himself, and once again allowed himself a smug, satisfied smile.

"By your Command." It was, after all, an honour and a pleasure.