Holy, shit.

I am so sorry, my friends. When I set out to write this chapter, I underestimated the time it would take to finish. Not because of any complicated plot point or lack of direction. It was pacing. Figuring out the subtleties of this chapter took a long time. There are a lot of 'slow' scenes you might say and I must have rewritten or revised certain dialogue quite a few times.

However, for those who enjoy the dynamic of Noa and Mae, whether romantically or platonically, there's quite a bit here to unpack. I enjoyed writing them in this chapter:)

In any case, I hope the wait was worth it. Please enjoy and leave those reviews!

"Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life; define yourself."

-Robert Frost

Act 1 Chapter 7- Challenger

The rest of the afternoon was spent putting books on shelves and sipping tea. Light, pleasant, otherwise agreeable to the orangutan monk, were he not under the thumb of a megalomaniacal apostate.

But, he was here and that was that. Until he received the opportunity to discuss a plan with Noa, Caesar, and Mae, it wouldn't do to stress in the meantime. Trevathan was pleasant company, if not entirely forthcoming. They chatted about a number of topics, with Raka asking a lot of questions about humans- everything from anatomy to diet. The man (that apparently is what male humans called themselves) replied with short, sometimes indirect answers.

What struck him most was how similar apes and humans seemed to be. The two groups enjoyed similar foods, felt the same emotions, took care of their young ones, and possessed the same number of appendages, fingers, toes, eyes, ears, as well as body framework. It might have been more appropriate to ask what they did not share in common.

The Order had long theorized that humans belonged to a specific class of species. Not quite ape, but above the lower animals like boars, horses, and dogs. A couple of hours with Trevathan convinced Raka that humans could possibly go further. Ascend. Join apes in their accumulation of knowledge and higher thinking. Indeed, this was one of the primary goals. To elevate them; raise them up. Mae and Trevathan were living proof of that.

"From where did your people learn advanced technology?"

A question born out of pure curiosity. Raka wanted to know how, as opposed to just the 'what'. Wherever Mae and Trevathan came from, they must have stumbled across some kind of ancient ape wisdom or at the very least, were taught by them.

Trevathan's answer came in the form of an arrogant, cryptic scoff.

"We've always had it."

Was it hubris or grandeur fueling that response? Raka couldn't tell. He tried to be diplomatic.

"So you are…self taught."

Trevathan laughed this time, flirting with outright rudeness.

"Where do you think those staffs come from?"

He pointed out a mass of wires and metal amassed on a table a few feet away. Raka attempted to inject a flaw in the human's thinking. Apes created those weapons of mass destruction. They must have. It took seconds for Raka to recognize the inherent contradiction.

The sound of a gong rang seven times in the courtyard, signaling the end of the day, and Raka's quest for knowledge. The sun was setting into the west, its glow fading into a hue of dark purple and blue.

"The day's work is done," Trevathan said with monotone enthusiasm. "Time for the evening lesson."

"Evening lesson?"

"Proximus likes to end with a message to his followers. As it happens, he's expecting both of us to be there."

"Why?"

There was that arrogant sniff again. For a human in service to apes, Trevathan held an inflated sense of his own genius.

"You'll find out."

The gong rang again.

"We better get a move on," Trevathan said, hastily putting stacks of books into rows on the giant wooden table. He grabbed about four to take with him. "Proximus doesn't like tardiness. And we have a pitstop to make."

Strange words. Threading through strands of language, Raka picked up on several different sayings, idioms, phrases, similes, and analogies that he'd never heard before. Some of them were familiar, but many sounded like they came from a long forgotten tongue spoken by elders.

Trevathan locked the door behind them, spinning the latch with a slam that echoed throughout the empty hall. He lit a candle with a small stick, creating an eternal flame that danced in the growing darkness.

"Impressive."

The human made no comment or appreciation.

"Come on."

Raka was led down the hallway until they reached the last door to the left. Inside was a spiraling staircase which went down to a lower chamber. To his surprise and joy, he saw Mae sitting in one of the chairs.

"I see you haven't done much to make yourself useful," he snarked to her.

Mae did not reply, but Raka could have felt the anger from a mile away. It simmered within the female the way the water did in the pot on the stove.

"There's an evening lesson tonight. It would be very good of you to be there."

"She is not required?"

"All apes are required," Trevathan clarified. "Humans are not. But it shows devotion to the cause to attend."

Raka frowned. The longer he stayed in this place, the more concerned he grew over its culture. The monks had certain requirements. A harmonious community needed equal participation among its members to keep it upright and strong. This was natural. Everything about the Kingdom of Proximus felt unnatural.

"Your cause…is a lie," Mae said in a near whisper, but he saw the raw hatred pouring out of her mouth. A human who despised another human. It was a little disturbing.

"Is it any more of a lie than what came before?"

The riddles of Trevathan continued to perplex the orangutan. But his concern lay with

Mae, who's personal suffering was plain to see.

'An ape who gives into anger, falls into darkness from which he cannot return.'

Scroll 5, verse 12. He'd memorized it by heart. One of the first things the monks taught was mastery of the self. Emotions were powerful and also dangerous. If an ape did not achieve a measure of control over them, it could lead to disaster. Through meditation, discipline, and experience, Raka achieved this mastery. Even in moments where he felt anger, he turned that anger into measured action.

His heart softened upon looking into the tortured eyes of the human. So young. And the young tended to believe that they were the reason for everything. Just like Noa. Yet another similarity.

"May I…speak to Mae?"

Trevathan grunted in disapproval. "The lesson is going to start soon."

"It will not take long."

"He's just going to get angry."

"If that is so, you can blame me."

Trevathan threw a hand up in exasperation and hobbled up the stairs with great difficulty, books carefully tucked underneath his arm. Raka leaned in with his ear to make sure he was gone.

"What?"

Her voice was hostile and uneven. Rife with immaturity. But Raka did not judge her for it. The paradox of acquiring wisdom was that you first needed to live as a juvenile.

"You are hurt," he said to her.

"I'm not injured."

"Not body." He pointed to the center of the chest. "In…here."

Mae rocked forward in the chair she sat in, her stoicness faltering with each sway forwards and backwards. She'd been so…impassive since they met. Withdrawn. Careful. Like a lone tree that never moved.

"You live to be strong," he told her. "Sometimes…to be vulnerable is what we need."

"My God, will you shut up?"

In a huff, Mae got up from the chair and faced the wide opening in the metal wall, exposing her face to the dying sunset. Its last streaks bathing her hair in golden light. Raka wondered just what 'God' was.

"Pain is like a giant wave…overwhelming. And impossible to swim through."

"Believe it or not, your infinite wisdom gets old."

Far from being offended, Raka belly laughed.

"I have been told before." The brief levity faded and he resumed honing in on her troubles. "There is…much on your shoulders."

Mae went back to silence in a vain attempt to regain composure. Raka sensed that composure was a single strand of fur away from exploding.

"Mae-"

"Don't you get it?!" She whipped around in a blaze of fury. "We're dying! Humans are dying! Our language, our culture, our way of life…is one generation away from extinction."

She wiped the oncoming tears.

"If I fail…the mission fails…humanity fails."

Raka did not know of this 'mission' and he suspected that Caesar had been right in believing Mae's real goal was something besides finding others of her kind. But he was not at all surprised to hear that humans were disappearing. For the past three years, he and his Order had tried every method imaginable to try and attract the herds with nothing to show for it. If silent humans were rare, intelligent ones must have been few and far between.

"It is…quite understandable that you feel the way you do."

Mae sighed and walked back over to the sofa, falling into it as she ran two hands through her hair.

"Proximus will do whatever it takes to get inside that vault. And Noa-"

She stopped, as though she'd uttered some forbidden code. It struck Raka as curious that Mae should be so forthcoming about a sensitive mission and yet Noa should be cause for secrecy. He hadn't a single clue what this 'vault' was, but her feelings for the young ape were quite clear.

"Are you concerned for him?"

At times, silence had a way of illuminating truth where talking created lies. Mae's silence rang quite loudly.

"You…care for Noa. Your bond is strong."

"I need him," Mae said in a half-hearted attempt at selfish denial.

"Indeed."

Raka found himself a chair and issued a mammoth groan as his joints creaked into the cushions. What a marvelous contraption it was. Soft. Comfortable. He'd have to ask Trevathan about it later.

"Noa is a good ape. I doubt he's joined Proximus."

"How can you be sure?"

And here it was. The young human in need of advice despite her earlier impoliteness. He'd seen it many times.

"These…masks…are the same ones who killed his father and enslaved his clan. I sincerely doubt…that he would go down the dark path."

He looked at her directly, making no apology for what he was about to say.

"You must be honest with Noa. Otherwise, trust cannot be established."

"I didn't lie." It was a weak defense and both of them knew it.

"But…you also did not tell the truth. An omission of truth…is worse than a lie."

Raka let Mae stew on that, relaxing in the chair at his own pleasurable leisure. He would let her respond when it was right.

"What do I tell him?"

"Truth is important to Noa. That is what he will want."

"But…" she tripped on that word.

"But what?"

"What if he doesn't believe me?"

'What if he doesn't forgive me?' was the question at the heart of her original question. Raka almost smiled.

"He will."

Having rested his bones enough, Raka propelled himself out of the chair, ready to face whatever message Proximus had in store. He almost traveled the length of the room before a final question reached his ears.

"How do you know?"

The orangutan smiled with a soft chuckle.

"The heart always seeks that which it needs."

In all honesty, Caesar didn't feel certain on how he was going to confront Proximus. Challenging him wasn't the problem, it was the opportune moment.

They had to move as fast as possible. The longer their stay in this twisted kingdom, the harder it would become to break free of it. He'd recognized the same circumstance when imprisoned by the colonel, but the colonel was living on borrowed time. Humans were on a collision course to destroy themselves, war or no war.

This time around, thousands of apes willingly followed a king and no one was prepared to stand up to his tyranny. The lies of Proximus would spread without a single soul able to counteract the poison with the antidote of candor. Which left a solitary soul to prevent disaster before it was too late.

Misfortunate had beset Caesar since the day he arrived in the future. It figured that chance should favor him after a non-stop streak of bad luck. And when fortune did present itself, it shone down as powerful as the sun through a thicket of trees.

Multiple gongs rang out in the distance. Hooting and hollering followed by apes amassing in large numbers towards the human ship. A bonobo explained that there was to be an evening 'lesson' led by Proximus and his sages. Perfect.

He followed the crowd into the black abyss, doing his best to assimilate into the anonymous swarm that buzzed with excitement. A part of him might have been impressed, were it not for the fever, the mindless devotion these apes showed to someone who abused them.

"Hey!"

"Sorry."

An accidental bump was a near certainty for a fight among chimps without mediation. This ape proceeded to smile.

"All is…forgiven. We share the gift of Caesar. Praise his…law."

The male chimp made his way up the stairs, and he proceeded to follow when the shock had subsided to a sufficient level to enable movement. Ignoring the pain in his chest and side, he slogged through a sea of fur and limbs just to reach the top.

Caesar breathed in the clean, crisp sea air, a welcome relief from the thick smog of fur and body odor. His other senses gave far less comfort. The upper deck of the ship was slanted at a slight angle, providing a sufficient space for a large gathering. Unlike earlier in the day, the crowd was more subdued, but the atmosphere was just as palpable.

The same downtrodden apes he'd seen struggling to survive in tents earlier were eagerly settling themselves around a large bonfire in the ship's bow. Mothers huddled their babies close, cooing at them in the shadow of the flames. Hooded females chanted a strange language he'd never heard before. Not ape. Another idea Proximus stole from humans in all probability.

'Accipite

quod trado vasculum;

omnes ex eo bibite.'

Soldiers swayed to its rhythm, giving the song a kind of reverence in spite of its unsettling harmonics. Males and females alike bowed their heads, entranced by the musical spell. Caesar pushed forward, ignoring this latest example of brainwashing, peering over hundreds of heads in search of his target.

Where are you, Proximus?

A couple of apes hooted at him in annoyance as he blocked their view. Others appeared mesmerized, as though the sound reaching their ears was a gift from the sky itself. Unlike the hypnotized apes, Caesar analyzed his surroundings. A wooden platform had been raised in front of the bonfire. Not as tall as the one in the plaza, but enough to illuminate whoever happened to stand on it.

The hooded females stood next the bonfire in pairs of four, while Proximus' "Legions" encircled the edges of the ship, electro staffs in hand, scouring for any stragglers or dissidents. No one was getting out, even if they wanted to. But Caesar had no desire to leave. For the name stealer, had yet to show his face.

"Rocket!" a familiar voice whispered to his right and an orange, hairy arm pulled him to the side. To his great surprise and relief, he saw it was Raka.

"What are you doing here?"

"You're alive?"

Their respective questions sailed past each other. Raka took him by both shoulders, alarm in his normally serene face.

"You need to leave…now."

"I cannot."

Raka took him to the most secluded spot on the deck, a space near the railing between two soldiers. He used sign language to avoid being overheard.

"If Proximus…finds out your name…he will have you killed."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Risk?" Raka's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. "You carry the name of…the Lawgiver," he signed, lowering his voice to a hush. "The one stolen by Proximus."

"I know. That's why we need to act now. Caesar shook his head with the fatigue of someone with little time to explain or listen to much else. "We're going to escape."

That raised the orangutan's attention and his brow.

"How?"

"Noa and Mae will infiltrate the vault and destroy whatever's inside. When that happens, they will gather Eagle Clan…and break free."

Raka frowned.

"What is this human vault I keep hearing about?"

By his uncharacteristic perplexed expression, this was a contradiction in terms for the wise monk. Caesar didn't have endless hours to tell him the truth about human-ape relations.

"Proximus wants the technology inside. Technology created by humans. If he gets his hands on it, he will spread evil in every direction."

"He won't let us walk away so easily."

"I know," Caesar said, returning to speaking aloud. "So tonight, I will challenge him."

Raka knew what that sentence meant on impact.

"No! You don't mean-"

"Yes," he insisted. Convincing Noa, young and inexperienced as he was, took an understandable amount of effort. As an older ape, Raka needed to understand his reasoning. Caesar placed a long arm on top of his friend's shoulder. He was no doubt a friend now in a world where such bonds were scarce as dry season fruit.

"A true leader does what's best for his people. That is what I must do now."

The chanting stopped with a dissonant halt, leaving a roaring fire as the sole source of noise on the deck, surrounded by eerie quiet. If the earlier ceremony had been about passion and strength, this one took on a whole new meaning: reverence.

Out of the darkness stepped Proximus Caesar, allowing the light of the fire to cast himself as larger than life. A terrifying demigod with command over the elements, the sun, moon, and sky. Something beyond ape.

Proximus, wearing a red robe and a crown of oak leaves, raised himself on the wooden platform, upright and strong. Red and black banners waved in the wind, as if they too were bowing to their king. He raised two giant hands in the air.

"Welcome brother and sister apes! Welcome…to our evening lesson!"

Mae sat for an unknown length of time in the confines of Trevthan's quarters. The last flecks of light soon disappeared and she was forced to light about a dozen candles dotting in and around the place (electricity did not exist out here). Otherwise, she did not move.

'You must be honest with Noa. Otherwise, trust cannot be established.'

Raka's advice was simple. It should have been easy to follow. But life wasn't easy. She'd learned that firsthand through living underground. Through training for endless hours. Through learning that the disease that felled humanity was still out there, and could finish them off for good. Through witnessing the death of her parents- dad first, mom second, both at the hands of apes.

Apes are the cause.

Apes are the end.

In the darkest hour

Humans will rise again.

Another mantra imprinted in her brain since the time she could say her first word. The ability of speech was a gift. A sacred treasure that belonged solely to the human race. Apes had usurped this gift, tainting its purity with their foul, flea bitten savagery.

Her hands clenched so tightly, the nails nearly broke through the skin. That old anger returned. Apes. Apes. Apes. Apes. That cursed name. The species she'd learned to fear. Hide from. Observe at a distance, blinking through the shadows as they rode on horseback, hunting for their quarry. The harbingers of death.

Apes. The species that supplanted homosapiens from its rightful place as rulers of the planet. Apes. Responsible for every misfortune that had ransacked human civilization and left it for dead. Apes. Nature's greatest mistake. The bane of man.

Speaking without thinking was a great way to end up dead where Mae came from. The plan set in motion three hundred years ago was a well guarded secret buried beneath the concrete bunker she was born in. She'd already said too much to her ape companions; full honesty would jeopardize humanity itself.

'I need him.'

Mae's own words came back to haunt her. Noa should have been nothing more than a tool. A means to an end. She'd get inside that vault, grab what she needed, destroy the contents, and the apes along with it. He didn't matter.

And yet here she was, unable to get him out of her head. Apes were just animals. Corrupted lifeforms with a bastardized version of intelligence. They didn't have 'society' the way humans did. At heart, they believed in nothing and held no ideals or higher belief systems.

Noa defied every monstrous stereotype the Council drilled into them. Far from being a vicious killer, he was kind, patient, generous, and clung to a strict moral code as tightly as the trees he climbed. When lost and on the verge of starvation, Noa offered apples. When Proximus and his goons tried to capture her, they fought side by side. Mocked, belittled, and called 'ugly' by Lightning, he'd jumped to her defense without a second thought.

A cool sea breeze drifted into the cabin, flickering the candles. Mae placed her arms around herself, imagining they were Noa's comforting embrace. It had been so long since she'd been touched. Out of affection. From care.

The walls of her entire creed, her purpose, were coming down. Cracks formed in the foundation that crumbled in the face of hard reality. Noa was no ordinary ape. He was much more. He was…important.

The strength of her inner conflict over Noa must have manifested him. For when she looked up next, there he was, crouched in the middle of one of the ship's many holes. Slowly, he rose to his full height. She did the same.

Obscured in part by darkness, the moonlight illuminated his displeasure. That awful heart twisting guilt returned with a vengeance.

"So…this is a ship," was all he said.

There was little wonder or awe left in his eyes. They looked around the cabin room as if they were looking upon something with cold comprehension. Mae had a sinking feeling that he'd learned a great deal since being separated.

"Why?" was his next word.

There were so many questions within that little 'why' and Mae felt the crushing weight of every single one crashing down on her. 'Who are you?' 'What are you hiding?' 'Why did you lie?' She could see the latter was what he wanted to know the most.

"Why were you…not true?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-." She paused. Truth not lies. She had kept things from him on purpose. "I didn't want to hurt you."

Noa shook his head, like trying to wave away flies of confusion.

"Are you really sorry?"

If his previous question stung, this one hit like a bodyblow. She swallowed to push down the bulging lump in her throat.

"Yes," she said, remembering Raka's advice. "I should have told you the truth." Doing so felt strange to Mae, who under no circumstance was allowed to reveal humanity's plan to retake the planet. Yet, she meant it. Noa's shoulders, tight and withdrawn, relaxed a bit.

"I…thought we were friends."

Oh. Oh. Her heart skipped a beat at the unexpected tenderness.

Say it back, a voice urged.

"You have to understand," Mae said, ignoring that voice. "Proximus and his apes found our group. Everyone was killed…except me. I had nowhere else to turn."

"That does not explain why you had to lie."

Christ, he was clever. Too clever. A potential obstacle. Apes tended to speak in a breathy, disjointed way, inferior to that of humans. She noticed Noa lost this tendency when he was upset.

No, don't think about him like that, the voice urged more fervently this time.

"I made a mistake. I know that now." It was a lame excuse and both of them knew it. Noa approached her until he stood a mere three feet away.

"I know there are more smart…echoes." It took a second to decipher that the term meant 'humans'. "I know echoes got sick…and apes became strong. And I know that you came here to find the vault. Do you…deny this?"

The folds of her lips dropped. She didn't bother to lie this time.

"No."

He bowed his head. "Then what Caesar said is true."

The sheer amount of dark regret in his voice awakened old scars in Mae. Primal instincts that could not be overridden by cool logic or empathy. Noa was a chimpanzee. A much more powerful, stronger animal than herself. A threat.

The darkness passed. When he looked up, she saw only sad disappointment…and determination.

"But Caesar also said to make peace…so I will."

Okay. That was promising. Better than being murdered. But that did not mark the end of her concerns. How the hell did Caesar manage to deliver a summary of ape-human relations of the past 300 hundred years in one day? How was he aware of the virus? This was too eerie to be a pure coincidence.

A conversation for when you get out of here, the voice said, slapping her back to reality. If you get out of here.

"What do you need inside the vault?

Well, shit. How to explain that one. Apes had come a long way since becoming smarter but they didn't have a firm grasp of higher electronics yet.

"It's like…a book," she answered, borrowing an analogy from Raka. "A special book."

"How…special?"

"Humans lost their ability to speak. And this book might bring it back."

Mae assumed Caesar told him about the virus affecting human intelligence. She saw gears turning in his head.

"A book can do this?"

"This one can."

There. No more worrying about lying. What she had said wasn't a lie. Her conscience was clear. Of course, Noa, being the ever curious ape, had more questions.

"Raka…said apes and humans lived…side by side. True or not true?"

Mae was forced to swallow another lump. He just had to go there, didn't he?

"Apes were silent, like the echo. Humans were dominant."

This fact seemed to be a confirmation rather than a revelation for Noa, who again flashed disappointment, but not anger.

"And this…virus changed that?"

"Yes. For some reason it made apes smarter…and nearly wiped out all of us."

Mae found that she didn't mind sharing this particular truth, powerful and devastating as it was. Part of her wanted him to know how much humans had suffered, what they were still suffering…because of apes.

"It is wrong what Proximus and his apes do to you."

Just when the heavy concoction of resentment and anger reached its peak, it drained away just as quickly. Noa surprised her again.

"I am…sorry too. For what I did."

"You didn't do anything."

"We threw stones. I…hurt you," Noa said, making the sign by twisting two fingernails together. "

And I hurt you. I still might, Mae's internal voice said in silence. It took a great effort to hold back tears.

"We work together. Free Eagle Clan…and help humans," Noa continued.

Mae nodded, eager to accept the arrangement. In an instant everything felt much lighter.

"Yes. Together."

It went against everything she'd been taught. Sacrilege in fact. She didn't care. The stubbornness her mother always teased her about was nowhere to be found.

"Two more questions."

"Hm?"

A passionate spark reignited in Noa's green irises. He almost wore a smile. "Do you know a way into the vault?"

"I do."

"And will water destroy what's inside?"

"Yes."

Noa offered her a hand. A hand so much like her own. Forgiveness lay inside its palm.

She took it.

Hope.

When Noa made amends with Mae and they agreed to help each other, it flooded his veins with the powerful emotion. Perhaps, this is what Raka meant by humans and apes living side by side, working together as one. He prayed that his orangutan friend was not hurt…or at least still alive.

Swatting that morbid thought, he lifted a heavy bag full of an unknown substance (it felt like sand, maybe?) and an empty bucket. This escape plan hinged on a lot of things going right. How was Caesar going to challenge Proximus? Better yet, how would he win with a cut hand, broken rib, and a healing wound in his right side?

"Careful."

A soft, human hand interrupted his messy thoughts. Mae cautioned him as he handled a glowing, orange piece of metal. Human technology was still a great mystery to Noa, and he was thankful to have her around to guide him. The contraption in front of him was a jambled assortment of metal all crisscrossing and connecting to a bigger piece of metal. He studied the mess with great interest, thinking it rather similar to intersecting branches of a tree, all of which were connected to the trunk.

"Power runs through…yes?"

Mae nodded. "Yes."

It was fascinating to watch her go through all those metal strings, sorting and connecting them into one power source. Evidently, she'd done this more than once.

When they finished, Mae told them to grab a long rope that she called 'wire' which connected to the metal box they just planted.

"We need to get this all the way up to the top of the bridge," she told them. Anaya was quick to volunteer.

"I help!"

Noa couldn't help but smile. Introducing Mae as an intelligent echo to Anaya and Soona was seamless. Both took it in stride, eager to do anything possible to free their clan.

"Alright then. Soona, can you help me carry these bags?"

"Of course."

Noa assisted his best friend, knowing just how clumsy he could be, grabbing the end of the rope while Anaya laid it out on the sand. Together they snaked a trail from the vault all the way up to the redoubt. They were careful to avoid the watchful eyes of patrolling guards, flitting in and out of the ship's windows.

"Who knew echoes were…so smart?" he said with a toothy grin.

"Yeah…"

'Who knew that the world taught by the elders was completely wrong?' was what Noa did not have the heart to say.

They reached the top of the sea wall and finished setting the last of the wire. Mae began pouring a kind of black powder into cylindrical canisters placed along the edge. Noa sniffed and recoiled at the sharp, acerbic aroma. She gestured for him to come closer.

"This burns hot. But under pressure it will-" she spreads her hands wide. "-explode."

The young chimp failed to see how this black powder would be able to destroy an entire wall. Then again, seeing was believing. And he'd seen things he thought impossible just four days prior.

Did humans really create such devices?

"How do you know this?"

One reluctant look into her eyes told him that Mae did not feel comfortable answering that question. He was tempted to press her on it when a loud thumping noise interrupted.

Anaya spilled black powder all over the ground. His mouth formed a sheepish 'o' shape.

"Shit."

Mae went over to grab the bag from Anaya before he could do any more damage. Noa contemplated what he'd just heard.

"Shit," he repeated. The word sounded harsh and yet it rolled off the tongue with forbidden pleasure. An exclamation of something gone wrong. Was this another aspect of humans lost to the ages?

"I…go with Anaya," Soona said with a knowing smile. "Safer that way."

Her hand brushed his fur with deep affection and his stomach made the same feeling that happened when you leapt from one tree branch to another during big climb.

"You like her."

Noa hadn't realized Mae had returned, he'd been staring at Soona's attempts to help Anaya carry a canister. The implication brought a strange heat to his face.

"What makes you say that?"

"It's written all over your face."

Puzzled by the metaphor, Noa saw that Mae was smiling. In their time together, he'd never seen her smile before. His stomach leaped again.

"We were born with a sunset," he said quickly, biting off a piece of rope.

"I can see why. She's very sweet."

This was a side of Mae he'd seldom seen out of the human. Tender, compassionate, and dare he say playful.

"You should tell her."

There was no mistaking it, she was teasing him now. That playful smirk grew larger and larger at seeing his flustered reaction.

"Not…the right time."

"Why?"

She had no idea how things worked in Eagle Clan or how apes displayed courtship. Where was the harm in telling her?

"Need permission from elders, first," he explained. "Must wait until you are…accepted as tribe member."

"I see."

One thought begets another. In Noa's case, his curiosity redirected back towards her.

"What about echoes?"

"Hm?"

"How do human males and females…get together?"

Mae's teasing vanished and she paused in her work connecting the wires to the gunpowder. He hoped he hadn't caused offense.

"It's…complicated."

"Complicated?"

"It used to be different." Her voice had returned to its somber tone as it did when she talked about the past. "Humans would meet each other. Go to places. Eat food, drink, tell jokes. Just…spend time together."

On the one hand it was difficult for Noa to envision as it was with much of the old human world he'd learned about. On the other, what Mae spoke of differed very little from apes. He too liked to spend time with Soona, make her laugh, offer her some of his fish when she hadn't caught any…

"What about…now?"

Mae almost stopped moving. Loose strands of hair fell down, glowing in the moonlight, shrouding her face in darkness. Apprehension grew within the young age. What had the human race become that she could not speak of it? What would Caesar have to say about this?

He leaned in closer and saw that a tear stained the side of her cheek. Afraid he'd upset Mae, he tried to make light of the subject.

"Do you have…someone special? Perhaps…Trevathan?"

That did the trick. She screwed up her face in disgusted indignation.

"Ugh, don't ever say that again."

It was his turn to do the teasing and Noa relished in doing so. He made a hole with his left hand and inserted a finger into it.

"Will you two…bond?"

"Gross!'

He hooted with soft laughter and to his delight her disgust broke and she joined in. Soona was forced to admonish them for being so loud.

"What a wonderful day, yes?"

Murmurs of agreement followed. The crowd did not chant back in repetition but Caesar suspected that was deliberate. Proximus spoke at length uninterrupted, basking in the attention. His followers served no other purpose other than to agree with everything he said.

"Yes, my friends. We are…close. Close to discovering hidden treasures inside the vault. Close to achieving so many great things. We are on the verge…of revolution."

Hanging back in a dark corner of the ship, Caesar clenched the walls of his stomach, reminding himself that if he challenged Proximus at the wrong moment, it would spell disaster. Patience.

"Tomorrow…we will try again to open the doors. Tonight…we give thanks for what we have. Tonight, we observe a very important lesson: unity."

Proximus raised his arms in the air in a show of power.

"Apes together strong," he barked in a subdued version of the phrase he'd boomed out so loudly. "That is the way…apes will conquer. Our Kingdom can become so much more. But only…if we stick together."

It was a clever ruse. In the short time Caesar had known the ape king, he'd switched back and forth between 'we' and 'I' when referring to his precious Kingdom. It might sound interchangeable, but embedded in that collective sentiment lay the true objective of this 'new Caesar'. Power. And the unlimited ability to wield it.

"There is nothing we cannot accomplish. Because we are apes!" Proximus continued, alternating his voice between hushed wonder and booming exaltation. "Because this world is ours to make it what we wish!"

Though he spoke with great enthusiasm, Caesar almost found himself bored as the speech went on. It recycled similar themes, empty platitudes, and bold proclamations. He found it ironic that Proximus should hate humans so much when his ego rivaled that of any human he'd come across. Mankind believed that the earth around them to be their birthright, creating unlimited arrogance and manic need for control. If Proximus was an evolutionary result of ape rule over the planet, then they weren't doing much better than humanity.

In the thralls of boredom, he still managed to stay with the speech, ingesting its sordid contents until an opening could be found. It came in the form of a familiar mockery.

"I do not need to tell you…how important it is our faith be united," Proximus said, circling back to the opening theme. "There can only be…one truth. One vision. For it is how the First Elder achieved victory."

Caesar perked up, his eyes affixed on the huge bonobo. Raka tilted his head upwards as if to ask, 'What will you do?'

"Caesar led his people to paradise. But not without cost. He…had to fight. He required obedience to his will. His word."

Proximus' muzzle morphed into an ugly snarl. "Humans live in violation of all that is good. They are stinking, duplicitous animals. Incapable of reason. Murderous. Dangerous. Cruel."

The crowd rumbled in a swell of anger and Cesar found what must have been Trevathan standing at the far end of the bow, a safe distance from the audience, but not safe enough from their displeasure. Noa mentioned that Trevathan was a slave, a helper of some kind to Proximus. Why he was assisting an ape in the eradication of his own species was a dark puzzle.

"Caesar was forced to fight these humans in a great battle. A battle that ensured we…apes…would triumph. Because we are superior!"

'He lies,' Raka signed to him. The truly sickening part of being thrusted into the future was not lies, but how the truth had become lies. Twisted into whatever Proximus wished it to be.

"That is why we must triumph again in the war to come," Proximus growled. His congregation grew louder with each passing declaration, affirmed by various shouts and hollers. "That is why…we must follow the words of Caesar! For Caesar. Is. LAW!"

Punctuating this declaration, the female apes, barely visible underneath their black garb, carried stacks of books to the edge of the raging bonfire. Raka's eyes widened.

"No!" He rushed forward, pushing several apes out of the way, but was stopped just short of reaching the flames. It took three gorillas to contain his enormous strength. Caesar understood in horror that those books belonged to the wise orangutan. Indeed, Proximus gazed down on Raka with cool contempt.

"Friends…look upon this…orangutan. He is part of a group that calls themselves The Order of Caesar."

A series of jeers and hoots followed. The spell of reverence was over, replaced by the fanaticism that gripped them earlier.

"He preaches all sorts of blasphemy. That apes and humans can live together…that Caesar loved humans…was raised by them!"

Shouts of 'blasphemy' grew louder and Caesar worried that the crowd might strangle Raka with their bare hands if Proximus ordered his demise. But the ape king did not appear interested in murder. On the contrary he played right into the theater.

"There can only be one truth. One law. And that is Caesar's." Proximus pointed to himself as he said the name. "Anything else…is heresy." He switched his attention back to the adoring crowd.

"Behold! This is what we do to books that violate the word. This is how…we root out blasphemy!"

Raka's attempts to break free were futile. Pinned to the ground, he was forced to watch the destruction of his work. One by one, each book was dropped into the hungry flames, which soared with approval at the receiving of every offering.

Caesar tried to swat away the guilt; all the war, death, and suffering of ape and human alike. The flames of future's past scorched his retinas, burning the images of all the people he'd lost- Will, Koba, Blue Eyes, Cornelia, lost forever to the apocalyptic fire, the spark of which would forever be himself.

But he could not run from it. Time to stop running.

"LIAR!"

The groundswell of roaring cheers went silent in an instant. He strode forward, moving through the vast sea of apes, none of whom had the wherewithal to know that the bonobo they worshiped lacked any real interest in their wellbeing. Or that the real First Elder stood right in front of them.

"Liar!" he repeated, pointing a bandaged hand at Proximus. "Your words are poison!"

The mighty king blinked twice in amazement, as though he could not believe anyone dared to challenge him. Perhaps no one had. Judging by the lack of reaction from the crowd, that was a safe assumption. Frantic whispers, hoots, and whistles followed at the sight of this newcomer's gall. Raka's bulging eyes thought him to be crazy.

"Caesar did not teach hate! Caesar did not kidnap other apes! Caesar did not kill humans!"

Soldiers sprang into action. One of them tried to shock him with a staff, but the older chimp's wise reflexes kicked in. Refusing to endure another painful electrocution, he dodged the blow, grabbed the staff, yanked it away, and smashed it into the soldier's temple in one fluid motion.

More soldiers rushed in to subdue him but a hand from Proximus stopped them cold. He thumped down from the fire and swaggered over, recognizing the challenge and the strength behind it.

"You dare disrespect me?! You think…you know better than me?! Better than Caesar?!"

He heard it plain as the fire in front of him. That subtle blend of first and third person. The merging of Proximus the ape and Caesar the legend. He would not allow it any longer.

"I don't think. I know."

Proximus tried to use his towering height advantage, but his opponent refused to budge. The power of Caesar's loathing exceeded the bonobo's talent at intimidation.

"And I know that you are no Caesar."

He'd gotten to him. The dangerous twitching of the left eyelid and the tensing of his muscles indicated that Proximus didn't just feel insulted but threatened.

"I am king," he growled. "This is my kingdom."

"Prove it. Face me. Ape to ape. See which of us…is stronger."

The gauntlet had been thrown. There was no way Proximus could back down now. Not with the entirety of his precious kingdom watching.

"Very well. On your head…be it."

Proximus stepped backwards to address the crowd.

"I accept the challenge from the ape, Rocket!"

The gathering went bananas (if an ape could pardon the expression), shrieking and hollering. Nothing incited fervor in a group of apes more than the promise of violence.

"We meet in the center of the yard. At dawn."

Caesar gave the smallest of nods to show agreement. Half stupefied by what he saw as bravery or foolishness, Proximus waved over two guards.

"Take him…down to a cell. For however long he has."

He did not resist the rough treatment of the two gorillas who dragged him away. He'd done what he set out to do. His fate lay in hands beyond his own.

Caesar's one regret was the funereal expression in Raka's eyes as he passed. The same one he remembered Maurice giving him when he decided to go after the colonel.

Alone.

A/N #1- Bonus points to anyone who can figure out the origin of that chant.

A/N #2- Some of you might be thinking- why didn't Mae bring up the fact that humans created the virus? Well that's a consequence of things going in an alternate direction, but also a slight amendment I'm making to the direction of the story. In this version, Mae does not know her own people created the virus that doomed humanity to lose everything. The reason for doing so will be apparent in the second act.

A/N #3- I am blown away with the support this fic has received since it started. In the three weeks since I last updated, it has garnered more likes, hits, and follows than I anticipated. Thank you all for your support!

To avoid any misunderstandings, I cannot promise the next update will come by next week. But I can promise it will come before the end of the month.

Rock on!

~The Wasp