The reconnaissance reports began arriving within hours of Tian's prophetic warning, each one confirming his vision with unsettling accuracy. Scout after scout returned with information that matched his description perfectly—Vykras moving in coordinated packs of forty-two, Grimjaw Behemoths numbering exactly twenty, twenty-three Vorthak leading the assault with tactical precision, and four massive Hasuras bringing up the rear like living siege engines.
Elder Lysara stood in the command chamber, spreading the tactical reports across a wooden table carved with intricate battle maps. "The numbers match exactly," she announced to the assembled elders and warriors. "Forty-two Vykras, twenty Grimjaws, twenty-three Vorthak, and four Hasuras. Either this young man possesses genuine prophetic abilities, or we're facing a level of divine intervention we've never encountered before."
Tian felt a mixture of vindication and growing unease as the confirmations continued to pour in. His vision had been accurate down to the smallest detail, but that only increased the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. If the attack proceeded as he had foreseen, they would face not just overwhelming numbers, but the insidious drain of the parasitic flower that would sap their strength when they needed it most.
But this time, they had advantages his vision hadn't possessed—time, preparation, and foreknowledge.
Elder Chelone and Elder Nozu arrived at the sanctuary hours before the attack was scheduled to begin, their flying mounts descending through the toxic atmosphere with practiced grace. The early arrival gave them precious time to coordinate defensive strategies and position themselves for maximum effectiveness.
"The approaching horde has been confirmed," Elder Chelone reported as she dismounted from her enlarged rittle. "But their formation suggests they're unaware of our preparations. They're advancing as if expecting a standard defensive response."
Elder Nozu nodded in agreement, her blue robes still rippling from the flight. "We can use their overconfidence against them. If we strike the parasitic entity first, while they're still positioning for their main assault, we'll catch them completely off-guard."
The next several hours became a whirlwind of tactical preparation that transformed the entire area around the sanctuary entrance into a carefully orchestrated trap. Warriors worked under the elders' guidance to create barriers of compressed earth that would channel the attacking creatures into predetermined kill zones. Concealed pits were dug and lined with sharpened stakes, their positions calculated to break up the coordinated advance of the Vykra packs.
Glyph used his earth manipulation abilities to create false ground that would collapse under the weight of the Grimjaw Behemoths, sending them tumbling into prepared spike traps. Yavia and her team positioned themselves to take advantage of the chaos, ready to strike at enemies caught off-balance by the unexpected obstacles.
Most importantly, Amara had located the parasitic flower during her ethereal reconnaissance, pinpointing its position exactly as Tian had described. A strike team led by Elder Chelone was already moving into position to eliminate the threat before the main battle even began.
When the attack finally came, it unfolded like a masterful tactical demonstration rather than a desperate struggle for survival. The creatures approached with the same arrogant confidence Tian had witnessed in his vision, expecting to overwhelm defenders caught unprepared and weakened by the parasitic drain.
Instead, they found themselves facing a coordinated defense that had anticipated every aspect of their assault. The parasitic flower was destroyed within minutes of the battle's beginning, eliminating the energy drain that should have given the creatures their decisive advantage. Barriers and traps scattered their formations, turning their coordinated attack into chaos and confusion.
The Vykras found themselves caught in pit traps and earth barriers that broke their pack coordination. The Grimjaw Behemoths tumbled into prepared spike pits that had been positioned exactly where their charge would carry them. The Vorthak discovered their tactical intelligence was useless against defenders who had already seen every move they would make.
Even the mighty Hasuras, those colossal demons that had seemed so terrifying in Tian's vision, found themselves facing elders who were fresh and at full power, supported by warriors who knew exactly where to strike for maximum effect.
The battle was over in less than half the time it had taken in Tian's prophetic dream. Not a single defender had been lost, and injuries were minor scratches and bruises rather than the serious wounds that would have resulted from a prolonged engagement. As the last creature fell, a cheer went up from the sanctuary that could probably be heard for miles through the toxic atmosphere.
"Tian! Tian! Tian!" The chant began with the warriors and spread throughout the entire community as word of the victory spread. People emerged from the deep chambers where they had sheltered, their faces bright with relief and gratitude. Children who had been terrified hours earlier now laughed and played around the legs of their protectors, their fear forgotten in the celebration of safety.
The victory banquet that followed was unlike anything Tian had ever experienced. Tables groaned under the weight of foods that had been carefully preserved and rationed during their long exile—fruits that had been grown in hidden gardens, meats from creatures that lived in the deep caves, wines that had been aged in natural cellars carved into the sanctuary's roots.
"To our prophet!" Elder Migos raised his cup high, his usual stern demeanor softened by genuine warmth. "To the one who gave us the greatest gift possible—the gift of preparation!"
The toast was echoed throughout the great hall, hundreds of voices raised in celebration and gratitude. Tian felt overwhelmed by the attention, humbled by the knowledge that his warning had saved not just lives, but an entire way of life.
As the celebration continued into the night, however, the reality of their situation began to reassert itself. The battle's noise and energy expenditure had revealed their location to any creatures that might be monitoring the area. Their sanctuary, which had remained hidden for so long, was now compromised.
"We must migrate immediately," Grand Elder Zivan announced during a quiet moment in the festivities. "Our victory tonight has purchased us time, but not safety. We cannot remain here."
The preparation for migration began even as the celebration continued. Families gathered their most precious possessions, knowing that everything else would need to be left behind. The creatures of the sanctuary—rittles, sqacks, and others—were rounded up and prepared for the journey ahead.
As the great tree began its transformation, Tian found himself sharing his prophetic knowledge with his team, describing the incredible process he had witnessed in his vision. Amara listened with fascination, her eyes bright with anticipation.
"I have to see this," she declared, slipping into her ethereal form with practiced ease. "If everything else you've described has been accurate, then this transformation will be the most incredible thing any of us has ever witnessed."
The process unfolded exactly as Tian had foreseen. The massive tree structure began contracting and drawing inward, its branches and roots folding with geometric precision as the elders channeled their combined power into the greatest magical working of their lives. The sanctuary rose from its hidden depths, ascending through layers of earth and stone until it emerged into the poisonous sky above.
"It's becoming a seed," Amara reported, her ethereal voice filled with wonder. "Just like you described, Tian. The whole sanctuary is transforming into a single, compact form."
The two-hundred-meter seed that emerged from the underground chambers was magnificent beyond description, its opalescent surface reflecting the sickly light of their corrupted world in patterns that seemed to dance and shift with inner life. But even this was not the final form—the seed continued shrinking, compressing further and further until it achieved the size of a grain of dust floating in the atmospheric currents.
"Incredible," Elena breathed, listening to both Amara's real-time observations and Tian's prophetic descriptions. "The precision required for such a transformation... it's beyond anything we could have imagined."
The mood in their compressed sanctuary was festive and hopeful as they began their journey across the blasted landscape. People shared stories, sang songs, and marveled at their elders' incredible abilities. Children pressed their faces against the mystical windows that still allowed them to see outside, watching the ruined world pass by beneath them like a vast, toxic ocean.
Tian found himself at the center of attention, people constantly approaching to thank him for his warning or to ask about other possible future visions. The gratitude was overwhelming, but it also carried a weight of expectation that made him increasingly uncomfortable.
As they drifted through the poisonous darkness, carried by atmospheric currents toward some distant refuge, the mood remained light and optimistic. Warriors shared jokes about the ease of their victory, children played games in the corridors, and families enjoyed their unexpected safety.
Amara continued her ethereal observation, describing the view from outside their compressed sanctuary. "We're like a speck of dust in an ocean of darkness," she reported, her voice filled with wonder. "But I can sense the elders guiding our path. We're not just drifting—we're being navigated toward something specific."
Then, in an instant that shattered the peaceful atmosphere like a thunderclap, Amara's voice changed from wonder to terror.
"SNAKE!!!" she screamed, her ethereal projection snapping back to her body with violent force.
But even as her warning echoed through their compressed sanctuary, Tian felt the familiar sensation of reality shifting around him. The celebration, the victory, the migration—all of it dissolved like smoke in the wind.
BAM.
Tian's eyes snapped open within the silver cocoon, golden light streaming through his enhanced vision as consciousness returned with jarring suddenness. The crystal chamber surrounded him, unchanged and eternal, while his teammates continued their meditation exercises exactly as they had twice before.
"How do you feel?" Elder Lysara asked, dissolving the cocoon in a series of practiced motions. Silver unwove and returned to her hands like a tide, her voice carrying exactly the same tone, the same inflection he had now heard three times.
The weight of realization crashed over him like an avalanche of despair. Victory, celebration, salvation—all of it had been as illusory as his previous experience. The serpent had devoured their sanctuary, their people, their hopes for the future, and somehow he had been returned to this moment of awakening to witness it all again