Storm over Canopy

The first cries rang out like war drums. A rain of projectiles shot through the foliage, crashing against the makeshift barriers of Sehr’mana’s village. The jungle was no longer a sanctuary—it had become a battlefield.
— "To your positions!" Sehr’mana shouted, weapon raised.
The Shivenars, camouflaged in the heights, hurled spears and poisoned arrows at the Drakomite troops. The Voskovians, powerful and untamed, charged with a roar, riding massive beasts with natural armor, tearing through enemy soldiers with primal ferocity.
And yet… it wasn’t enough.
— "They keep advancing!" Isabella cried from behind a stone wall.
The Drakomites, equipped with Earth-made weapons, moved with chilling precision. Energy rifles, reconnaissance drones, motorized exoskeletons—it was like facing a storm of metal and fire.
Sébastien slammed his fist against a wooden beam.
— "They’re better armed, better protected. Even with the Voskovians, we’re barely holding them back!"
Explosions shook the ground. A towering tree collapsed in a deafening crash, taking down a dozen warriors from both sides. Ash rained down as Matt clenched his teeth.
— "We can’t hold out like this. It’s now or never."
He cast one last glance at Isabella, then sprinted into the jungle—alone.
Infiltrating the enemy camp wasn’t a mission. It was suicide.
But Matt knew Elora’s forest. It had wounded him, fed him, changed him. Every root, every bird call, every breath of wind was a silent ally.
He crawled beneath tangled roots, dodged drones with well-placed mud throws, climbed damp branches, heart pounding.
— "If I die, at least it’ll be for something," he muttered under his breath.
Finally, he spotted the gray silhouette of the Drakomites’ central generator. Encircled by an electrified fence, guarded by two sentinels, it pulsed at steady intervals like a mechanical heart.
He had only one chance.
A rock, a noise, a beast’s cry. The guards turned.
Matt sprang.
The first had no time to fire. A handcrafted dagger slit his throat. The second shouted, but Matt electrocuted him with a salvaged tool from his glove.
He reached the console and placed the black cylinder—the electromagnetic bomb.
— "For Elora…"
He activated the device and backed away, gasping.
A brilliant blue light pulsed, blinding.
On the battlefield, the effect was immediate.
— "Their weapons are shutting down!" Sébastien shouted. "It’s working!"
Drakomite soldiers screamed as their rifles went inert. Drones fell from the sky like stones.
— "It’s Matt… He did it!" Isabella exclaimed, heart lifting with hope.
The Shivenars and Voskovians seized the moment. Their assault intensified. Soon, the Drakomites began to retreat.
But victory was not yet certain.
A shot rang out.
— "Impossible!" Sébastien gasped.
An enemy soldier, within the blast radius, had just fired.
— "Some of their weapons… still work," Sehr’mana murmured, eyes darkening. "The bomb didn’t reach the entire base."
A half-victory.
A half-disaster.
Matt, panting, ears ringing, stumbled out of the generator, clutching his wounded side. He saw the faint glow of a still-active rifle aimed at him.
Too late.
— "You rat…"
The shot fired—but at that instant, a tawny mass lunged from the vegetation, knocking the soldier down. A feline-like creature with a long body and no legs.
The beast locked its green eyes on Matt. He understood. Even Elora’s nature was protecting him.
— "Uvarish," he murmured.
He looked up toward the canopy. Elora’s sky was streaked with flames, torn leaves, screams.
But there was also hope.
At the village, Isabella held the southern flank with other fighters. She spotted a reactivated drone speeding toward their defenses—a weapon still functional.
— "Get down!"
She threw herself over a young Shivenar girl to shield her. The explosion ripped through a section of the wall, sending her sprawling.
— "Isa!" Sébastien shouted, running toward her.
She opened her eyes, breath ragged.
— "I’m fine… Go help Sehr’mana. She’s barely holding the eastern front."
Their victory hung by a thread. The survivors fought with teeth, claws, fists. Though weakened, the Drakomites’ technology was still shredding their lines.
— "It’s not over…" Isabella whispered.
Not yet.
At the edge of the jungle, Matt arrived, bloodied and covered in ash. He collapsed near Sébastien.
— "I activated the bomb… but it wasn’t enough."
Sébastien helped him sit up.
— "You gave us a chance. That’s all we asked for."
Matt gazed at the battle and, in a hoarse whisper, said:
— "Then we need to take it now."
Sehr’mana emerged, arms bloodied, warriors surrounding her.
— "We strike at their core. If we cut them off from their officers, they’ll break."
Matt nodded.
— "And this time, no half-measures."
The Shivenars, the Voskovians, and the remaining humans gathered for one final charge. A cry rose from the treetops, carried by every voice.
The roar of a people.
And this time, even the jungle screamed with them.