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Chapter 1: The Day the Egg Cracked (and Got Shat On)
The canopy stretched endlessly, a sea of green leaves rustling under the wind's song. In the skies above, a feathered figure glided smoothly, eyes scanning the horizon. A hawk, proud and sharp-eyed, flew above the dense forest, its thoughts flowing in the primal language of beasts.
"This is the Verdant Wilds… our haven. No roads, no human filth, only beasts, nature, and freedom."
Its golden eyes narrowed. "Except when those damn cultivators waddle in, swinging swords and throwing pills. Hmph. Hunting for beast cores, rare herbs, or just to 'tame' one of us like pets."
It scoffed mentally. "They come, they scream, they get chased. It's always the same."
As the bird circled, something caught its eye—a glimmer beneath a waterfall.
"What's this?"
There, centered on a lone rocky platform in the middle of a serene lake, directly under the thundering rush of a high waterfall, sat a single egg. The waters cascaded endlessly over it, yet it stood firm, unmoving. The egg shimmered faintly, basking in the liquid curtain.
"What sort of idiot lays an egg there?"
The bird tilted its head, feeling annoyed by the egg's glow. It flew lower… closer… until it was just above it. Then, with the proud poise of a kingdom's king relieving himself on his least favorite peasant—
SPLAT.
The bird let loose a glorious turd upon the shining egg.
"There. That's for blinding me, glowing bastard."
With a proud caw and a dramatically smug loop-de-loop, the hawk soared away, joyfully humming to itself in beast tongue.
But back at the waterfall…
The egg trembled.
A small shake at first. Then harder. A shimmer pulsed through its shell, and cracks spread like lightning bolts.
Was it the waterfall's pressure? The timing of fate? Or did that bird's divine shit hold growth-stimulating power?
We may never know.
---
Not far from the lake, two boars stood watching.
"How can it be a coincidence?!" one squealed, pointing with a hoof toward the trembling egg.
"Bro, trust me—it's a coincidence. Eggs just crack. Happens all the time."
The first boar huffed. "You're telling me… that a bird takes a dump and suddenly the egg hatches? I ain't buying that!"
The egg cracked once more.
POP!
A head slowly poked out. The scene should've been dramatic. Should've had majestic music, slow motion, gasps.
But the face was… well… hid by the flashy sunlight
"The suspense is killing me!" whined the second boar. "It's like those human YouTubers who post 'Face Reveal' every week and never reveal sh*t!"
Then came the full reveal.
Under the crashing waterfall, its shell peeled away to unveil…
"Ugly."
"Ugly."
"Ugly."
Both narration and the boars muttered it in perfect harmony.
It looked like a wolf—but not like any wolf these woods had ever birthed. The creature was just under a meter long, with a pale, hairless body. Lines crisscrossed every inch of it, strange and unnatural. It squinted upward through the cascade, weakly growling.
And then…
One eye opened. Then another. Then another.
From his forehead, cheeks, shoulders, belly, sides, legs, even the damn neck… they opened. A dozen at least.
One stayed shut. The one on his butt.
Thank heavens.
Lines still remained, suggesting even more eyes to come. Or worse.
The boars' mouths dropped wide open in horror.
And as fate would have it… the bird from earlier returned for a second round.
SPLAT!
Right into one of the open mouths.
"BLEAAARGHHH!"
The boar began throwing up like an anime character who just discovered he drank from a bucket used as a urinal. His legs trembled. Eyes crossed. His soul left his body.
"I can still taste it!"
"Don't fight it! Let it out! LET IT OUT!" said the other, patting his back like a drunk friend helping another drunk friend be drunker.
The puking boar collapsed by the lake and began furiously washing his mouth. His reflection stared back.
"Why am I here?"
"What is life?"
"Did I deserve this?"
"Was it karma?!"
Meanwhile the newborn's perspective from when he was in egg:
---
His world was dark. Cramped. Wet.
There was pressure from all sides. A sense of longing. A deep, instinctual urge: Break out.
His limbs twitched.
Crack.
Crack—
Suddenly, the top burst open and SPLASH!
Water invaded.
It drowned his mouth, his nostrils. He choked, panicking, flailing. No thoughts. Only feelings.
"Air!"
He poked his head out.
The sun hit his face. The waterfall roared. The wind kissed his eyes. Or at least one of them.
His body crawled forward, weak and clumsy. Legs slid on wet rock. He nearly plunged into the lake but his frame—oddly strong for a newborn—held firm.
Then it happened. (The Eye reveal)
One eye opened.
Then more.
Too many.
His mind reeled. Images flooded in from every angle. A thousand visions, colors, and movements.
Too much.
His body shook.
His brain, unformed and raw, couldn't handle the input.
He dropped to the rock, his body convulsing. Eyes wide. Twitching.
And then—
He roared.
But not just one roar.
They roared.
The lines that were not eyes revealed themselves to be mouths.
His chest roared. His back roared. His knee roared. His shoulder roared.
Even his neck roared.
The sound echoed, a demonic orchestra of newborn agony. Deep, primal, and horribly high-pitched.
The boar who was watching dropped his jaw again.
"Super ugly."
The other boar, still by the lake, stared at his reflection, his nose dripping.
"Who am I?"
"Why do I live?"
"Will my mouth ever be clean again?"
He traced his hoof over the water.
"Do I even… deserve love?"
The egg was gone. The waterfall continued to crash.
And the monster-child had begun his life.
It began with a scream.
Not a noble, beastly roar.
Not a shriek of pain or war.
Just… a godawful, unfiltered, high-pitched, primal scream. Like a kettle, if that kettle was being punted repeatedly by an angry horse.
The ugly wolf was having what professionals might call a complete neurological breakdown.
He rolled left.
He rolled right.
His tiny paws—still squishy and stubby—grabbed at the sides of his grotesque head as if trying to rip it open and escape from within.
Every eye—EVERY SINGLE EYE—was moving independently. One stared at the sun. Another was tracking a suspicious beetle 50 feet away. Two were spinning like malfunctioning compass needles. One was twitching as if Morse coding a distress signal to the heavens. Another just... blinked. On loop. The one near his butt? Still closed. Mercifully.
From his back, shoulders, neck, chest, elbows, thighs—mouths opened. All screaming.
The rock beneath him trembled from the sheer cacophony.
---
Cut to: Two Boars, No Braincells
"Yeah dude, look at that kid."
The larger boar chewed on a mossy stick like a wise old monk who'd seen too much. "He's freaking out like a child whose dad brought home a new stepmom... and she's into spiritual yoga."
The second boar, who had just recently rejoined the realm of sanity after questioning life due to an unwanted bird-poop-tasting session, sat beside him with a new leaf tucked behind one ear. He was officially 'reborn.'
"I bet his bladder's gonna burst."
Their expressions were pure calm. Serene. Satori-level enlightenment. Their gazes unmoved.
You would think these were sages of a thousand years.
They weren't.
They were just two boars.
Dumb ones.
---
Back to Screaming Picasso
The ugly wolf kept screaming. Until… something inside him snapped. Not a physical snap. More like his internal chaos reached full saturation, and instead of bursting, it just... reset.
His mouths stopped.
His breath slowed.
And his eyes—mercifully—started to shut. One by one.
The ones on his belly.
Then his back.
Then the one on his tailbone. It opened halfway, blinked once, then shut like a sleepy cat.
When all the eyes closed, the wolf's form returned to that of a normal, albeit horrifically ugly, wolf. Skin still hairless. Lines like scars or sealed mouths still etched all over him. But no eyes. No mouths. Just the ones on his face.
He stood. Wobbled. Almost fell backwards off the rock. Caught himself.
Silence.
The waterfall roared above him.
The wind whispered.
The boars... nibbled bugs.
But the wolf? He was curious. The world around him was so… large. Bright. Wide. He wanted to see.
Problem:
Which eye should he use?
He began the sacred ritual of Eye Trialing.
One eye opened.
Then another.
Then a third.
Closed the second.
Opened the sixth.
Pause.
Closed the sixth. Opened the fifth.
Left open the third. Closed the first.
Opened the knee-eye.
Closed it. Immediately.
Repeat.
The boars were watching all of this. Minutes passed. Then many more.
"Bro, he's still doing it."
"This is art."
Eventually, boredom arrived.
Like two men betting on raindrops sliding down a window, they sat near the lake and started gambling.
"I bet the next eye is going to be the shoulder one."
"Nope. Elbow."
They slapped tree bark dice. Counted pebbles as coins. Their prize? Bugs.
Lots of bugs.
Boiled, salted, wiggly, raw—premium stuff.
They won some. Lost some. One of them accused the other of cheating. The other declared, "I can't even count to three, how would I cheat?"
They moved on.
Meanwhile, thirty-seven minutes later, the wolf finally settled.
He decided: two face-eyes, one face-mouth. Very normal. Very smart.
He looked toward the boars, acknowledging them for the first time. He had seen them before—vaguely—during his panic. But now he stood, composed. Stoic.
He took a step forward.
Dignified. Curious. Graceful.
And then—
SPLASH.
He slipped.
Plunged.
Fell face-first into the lake like a cartoon character slipping on a banana peel made of water.
---
Scene: Wet Disaster
The wolf hit the surface like a cannonball and vanished beneath the spray.
Water filled his ears.
His nose.
His mouths (ALL of them).
He opened his real mouth to scream—
Bad move.
Water rushed in like a vengeful ocean god.
His limbs flailed.
His tail spun like a helicopter.
He began to sink.
And worse…
A fish appeared.
It swam up slowly, predator-like, from below. Its little eyes sparkled with dumb hunger. Its mouth opened.
CHOMP.
It bit down on his toes.
The wolf screamed again. But this time it was gurgled. Muffled. Pitiful.
His blood spread in the water like red silk unfurling.
---
Back to the Boars
"Yo."
The leaf-wearing boar munched on his prize beetle.
"Bro, are we... sadists?"
The other one turned mid-chew.
"Wait. We're not?"
They stared at each other. Thought. Reflected.
Paused.
Then both shrugged and went back to snacking.
---
Boar Rescue Operation
The blood made one boar blink.
"...We should save him, right?"
The other boar tapped his chin.
"I mean, if he dies, we lose the show."
"True."
"And... he might owe us money."
"He doesn't have money."
"Oh yeah. Still. Morals."
"What's that?"
"Dunno. Sounds important."
Decision made.
One of the boars dove like a majestic meatball. He hit the water and sunk straight down, hooves flailing.
Within seconds, he surfaced again—wolf in mouth—dragging him back like a mother fetching her idiot pup. Also, the fish was still hanging onto the wolf's foot.
"Persistent bastard, ain't he?"
The other boar stood, cracked his hooves, and ate the fish whole.
CHOMP. GULP. BURP.
"Did he die?" he asked, blinking.
The wet boar shook the unconscious wolf a bit.
"Nah. If he died after making me wet, I wouldn't leave him alone."
The other boar looked at him like he'd just said something deeply disturbing.
The wet boar realized what he'd said.
His face turned pale.
"No. Wait. I didn't mean like—! Ugh. You know what I meant!"
The other boar just shook his head and started whispering to a tree stump, pretending it was a therapist.
---
Extended Ending Scene: Wolf Wakes Up
Back on land, the wolf finally coughed out water.
He sputtered. Shook. All his eyes fluttered open and closed in confusion. His foot throbbed.
The fish was gone. So was some of his dignity.
But he was alive.
He looked up at the boars who had saved him.
For the first time, he opened his mouth to speak.
And—
"Grrlekkkahhhhblurgh."
He immediately choked on a bug.
The boars stared.
The wolf stared.
Then…
They all laughed. Not a word exchanged. Just mutual idiocy.
The sun began to set.
A bird flew overhead. The same one.
It pooped again.
The poop hit a tree and bounced off, landing squarely on the rock where the wolf had stood.
All three beasts froze.
They turned.
They looked at each other.
"It returns."