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The first thing it ever felt in its life was the metallic smell of blood from birth and the musky scent of its mother's fur.

Its mother, an adult wild feline, had hidden deep within the thick jungle beyond the wasteland to find shelter and clean water.

The newborn animal felt its mother's affection on its dirty fur through the repeated licks she gave it to clean it.

That distant past held few memories. If anything, it remembered the scent of its siblings and the first prey they hunted alongside their mother.

The images of the past began to become clearer on the day of the greatest terror.

Months after its birth, its mother and siblings wandered around the jungle searching for food. They followed the trail of deer that had passed through the area hours earlier, leaving their scent everywhere.

As the family moved forward, some howling primates noticed something unusual in the distance.

The felines, unable to understand the warning, continued searching for food when the first moment of desperation came.

A group of humans was waiting, hidden and camouflaged among the undergrowth. With their vile crossbows in hand, they did not hesitate to fire their arrows.

The surprise was as immediate as the fear they felt.

The animal ran, watching as its dying mother groaned on the ground, pierced by the shafts of evil. Its siblings, stunned, also tried to flee, and one of them attempted to fight, but there were too many humans, and even more emerged from the jungle.

The feline heard the high-pitched growls of its family, and its protective instinct urged it to help save them. It stopped and growled at the hunters, its fur standing on end.

The humans wasted no time when they saw the motionless animal standing before them and thought they had the perfect opportunity to finish it off. They raised their loaded crossbows, ready to fire again, and aimed.

Whether because she was cornered and had nothing left to lose, or because of her maternal instinct to protect her young, the mother rose and devoured one of the hunters' heads while clinging to his body with all her claws.

The remaining hunters, seeing the great feline kill one of their companions, abandoned their crossbows and drew their curved swords, stabbing the animal from every side.

The feline watched as its mother died at the hands of those unknown animals that seemed invincible.

The memory of the scent of its birth was similar to the memory of the scent of its mother's death.

Filled with terror, it fled, hearing the whistles of arrows passing close to its body.

It ran and ran without looking back, leaving its family behind forever.

From that day on, the animal knew nothing but solitude.

It lived for years in the jungle, hunting and hiding whenever it heard the primates howl.

It encountered few of its kind. Then, one day, it found a familiar scent. It was its brother, one who had also survived. But animal life knew no divine mercy. Although the two recognized each other, they were already adults and fierce.

They fought viciously over territory until one emerged victorious and the other died.

Life in the jungle belonged only to the strongest, and it was the strongest.

Time passed, and the days seemed the same. It slept, hunted, ate, and went back to sleep until terror struck once again.

The second day of terror began when it heard the commotion of some animals. Intrigued by the sounds and the smell of food, it stealthily approached to investigate. There they were; they were animals like the ones that had killed its mother.

There was no hatred or desire for revenge in the animal's purity, but there was fear and a constant sense of threat.

Its mind warned it that those animals were dangerous and that they would take its territory.

At that moment, using its great agility, the feline climbed one of the trees near the human camp and watched them from high among the leaves.

It waited and waited until night came, and when the humans fell asleep, it attacked.

It leaped down in surprise with fury, sinking its claws into the first human, who did not even wake before dying.

The others were alerted and tried to reach their weapons, but the animal killed them one after another, giving them no chance to fight back.

They all died. That day, the feline tasted human flesh for the first time. It despised the meat and abandoned it in disgust.

Having protected its territory, the animal returned to its resting place and went to sleep, unaware that the animals it had killed were driven by nature's most destructive feelings: hatred and revenge.

The group of humans was not the only one in the area; they had traveled in two separate groups. When the second group arrived and found the carnage of their companions, the desire to kill emerged from their very cells and took possession of their minds.

Sleeping deeply, secure in the belief that there were no more threats, the feline heard its enemies too late as they prepared to surround it.

When the animal sensed them, it leaped from its resting place and stood guard ferociously. Then an arrow flew and struck its hind thigh, causing a sharp pain.

Desperate and gripped by fear, it slipped through the vegetation while screams and weapons flew toward it.

Despite its attempt to escape, it could not throw off its pursuers, who followed the trail of blood left by its arrow wound.

The hunt continued throughout the night, until after dawn, when the desperate feline fled beyond its territory, beyond its jungle, and limped toward the Scarlet Ocean.

The humans followed it to the edge of the jungle and remained there, shouting and cursing words the animal could not understand.

Terrified, the feline ran as far as its strength allowed. And when it became aware of its surroundings, it found itself surrounded by absolute aridity. The emerald splendor of its jungle was far behind.

It used its teeth to remove the embedded arrow and licked its wound, but it did not stop there. It continued walking until it found a dry bush where it could hide.

The wasteland sun burned its body, and the heat kept rising, but it needed to rest. There it slept throughout the day until night came.

Thus began its life in desolation.

For months, it wandered through the desert, hunting small animals and distracted birds that descended to the ground.

Now and then, it found small pools of water left behind by the rains. Although it rained relatively often in the wasteland for a desert, the rainwater was always absorbed by the dry earth, which could never get enough.

Little by little, the feline moved farther and farther away from its old, green home. And the harshness of the wasteland began to take its toll.

The deeper it ventured into the desert, the less food and life it found, except for certain creatures that moved beneath the ground, churning the earth from within. Whenever it felt the ground vibrate, the feline ran as far away as possible to avoid encountering those dangerous creatures.

In this way, hunger became its only companion, and death slowly began to claim its soul.

After five days without eating, surviving only on water left behind by passing rains, it saw a bright light in the distance one night.

It had never seen anything like it during all its time in the wasteland, so curiosity got the better of it.

As it slowly approached so as not to attract attention, it began to smell something that overwhelmed its senses: roasted meat.

Its desperate stomach urged it onward, and when it was close enough, it saw one of those dangerous animals standing before the fire.

It was Izan.

Silently, it approached, ready to kill and claim its food, but it had not anticipated the outcome of its final hunt.

Although that human was similar to the ones it had encountered before, it saw something different in the boy. It realized that he was just like it, a creature desperate to survive.

They both fought, giving everything they had, but the fight had to come to an end.

Its neck hurt as though it were about to break while Izan squeezed his arms around it to suffocate it. Air could no longer reach its lungs, and its chest burned with desperation. Moreover, its enemy's teeth tore into the skin on its back, turning it into the prey of that dangerous animal.

As it felt its life slipping away, it gazed at the starry sky, reliving the distant musky scent of fur and the metallic smell of blood that had marked its birth.

Closing its eyes, the wild predator died.

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Izan awoke from the memory with deep pain throughout his body.

Looking around, he noticed that the light of the campfire had gone out and that the faint, purplish light of the moon was the only illumination around him.

He felt confused and emotionally shattered. Tears would not stop flowing, mingling with the blood on his face.

As he regained consciousness, he realized that he was no longer beneath the feline. While he had been experiencing the animal's memories, his own body had taken control. Somehow, though he did not know how, he had climbed on top of the animal and torn open its chest with his claws and teeth, reaching so deep that he had reached the enormous heart and devoured it without realizing it.

The blood from the wound the animal had inflicted on him was still pouring out, and during their savage battle, it had mixed with his opponent's blood. The pain in his muscles was unbearable, and the brute strength he had managed to wield had vanished.

Despite the little light, he could see the peaceful expression on the feline's face. And when he understood the life fate had given the beast, he collapsed onto it, bursting into tears as he said over and over:

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."

Finally, exhaustion overwhelmed him, and unexpectedly, he lost consciousness, lying on top of the corpse of his enemy, whom he now loved deeply after experiencing its memories.

With his consciousness fading, he heard a voice calling to him:

«Izan! Izan! —Clara said—. Izan! Can you hear me? There... there's something else here... in the palace...»