A Monke's prologue

A full moon.

That fateful night was a full moon.

We, the monke, were a tribe. More powerful than the lions, faster than the cheetah. Our territory spanned across the savanna, going from the northern mountains all the way to the eastern river.

We were strong, however, we were no tyrants. We allowed other animals to freely live in our territory, hunt for their food, and sleep under our tree's shadows.

Everything was peaceful, until one day the Other Ones attacked; those wretched scum, sons of rabbits.

We first received news of their movements quite a while ago, about how they would take down majestic trees with a sharp, moving blade and then put them on obedient, to the point of looking like slaves, animals made of metal; they do not mate, and it is still a mystery how they came to be. We call them, "Metal Titans".

However, we let them be. It did not bother us the fact they took merely a few trees, and that was our most fatal mistake.

They expanded their zone of influence quite fast, shaving away half of the forest in the blink of an eye, tree by tree.

The day we received the news about their rapid expansion, the tribe was stunned: "How did this happen?! Why did we let them even touch our forest?," " Let us grab our weapons and go fight them right now!" was what we all thought. This was our forest, and those who ruined it had to suffer the consequences. Even if the animals who lived under us for generations did something like that, we would show no mercy.

However, despite everyone's will to fight, the chief, who is one to despise war and conflict, was quick to respond: "Do calm down, comrades. Today, a lot has happened, we are all tired and in need of rest. Let us discuss this matter tomorrow when our minds are clear and our body is at its best. Then, and only then, shall we decide whether to wield our weapons and shields or go talk to them and try to solve this out without bloodshed."

It was as if they knew. It was as if those cowards we call Outlanders knew of our chief's decision, and decided to invade us right when our minds were set on resting, and our weapons away as not to distract us.

Needless to say, it was a completely one-sided massacre. We couldn't even grab our weapons, and those who tried all fell to the Outlander's strange Fire-Spitting Stick.

That Stick's might is outrageous, nearly out of this world: one of those ear-deafening noises, and you're done for, no matter the distance between the target and the perpetrator. Tens of corpses surrounding me and my brothers, we marched towards our enemy, as fast as we could, before that noise came to take our life again.

However, sadly, I was fired at by one of them. I fully expected to die a revengless death, content enough with dying in battle, with my comrades fighting around me, proudly giving my life to ensure my friends and family's survival.

…However, something was off. Normally, when shooting with a Fire-Spitting Stick it, well, spits fire. When that disgusting excuse of a creature opened fire, no sound nor light came out, and I instead felt something enter(A/N not sure about this one, maybe "lodge" is better?) my chest and… kind of… made me… sleepy….?

…

….

'Well, I must have spent all of my lifetime's luck to get out of there alive,' I thought to myself while looking around me. It was so tiny I could describe the place in two words: small, tiny, and awful. That was three words. It just goes to show really how this place is claustrophobic.

There was only one tree, at the center of the cage. It was tiny, at least compared to where I lived; where glorious trees were present at each and every corner, delicious-looking animals roamed the grass without a care in the world… dammit. I did it once again… I have to stop doing this somehow. While I guess it is good to mourn the dead and long for the lost, I must not give in to those thoughts; else I would find myself lost in useless nostalgia, never wanting to wake up out of those thoughts.

A cruel truth indeed, however, I must not think of my comrades, of my tribe, of our forest. Not until I achieve my goal...yes. I am far too weak at the moment. I had to train. Get stronger. And all of that, to achieve my one and only goal… By now, I'm sure you have found out anyway. Well, time to sleep in my latrine-sized sleep cave, having of course to sleep standing. Ho, wait. I still have to talk about where I live now. It's a cage if you could even call it that. It takes, what, 6 steps? To get from an end to another, and there was barely enough height for me to sit on that accursed tree's branches.

That's all. There is no grass, just some hard grey floor; not even leaves on the tree. From what I could see, some guards are surrounding this cage, which is made of bars composed of seemingly old grey-ish material, quite fragile in my opinion…

Whatever. Time to sleep, even though it's my least favorite part of my hopefully short and temporary stay, it was a must. Without sleep, I can't recover energy, and without energy? I can't train. And without training, how can I achieve my dream? Of course, when I talk about training, it's just running around and try to gain some muscle either like that, or by gripping one of the tree's branches and lifting my body up and down repetitively. That leaves me hella tired, so that means it works pretty well. I will continue until I'm not exhausted by it anymore, and then try to up the level somehow.

For now, training, sleeping, and eating are, and will be for a long time, my one and only routine. Apart from when spectators are watching, that is an entirely different matter.