A massive shadow sweeps over the skyline as he descends—Melis, the elegant yet arrogant giant bee-cat, his soft yellow fur streaked with black like a living warning sign. He’s purring, delighted, his wings fluttering lazily as he strolls through the streets like they’re part of a playground made just for him.

Cars crush beneath his paws. Buildings crumble under his weight. With a honey-slick smile, he scoops up fleeing humans, some he licks, some he swallows whole, others he simply toys with in his fluffy, venomous claws. His breath is sweet—almost intoxicating—as he casually burps after a satisfying gulp, patting his belly with a soft chuckle.

“Mmnh… You little things never learn,” he purrs, dragging his tongue across his lips. “But I do love a snack that runs.”

He lounges across a collapsed building like a lazy feline god, tail swaying, belly softly gurgling with the lives he’s claimed. His ears twitch... then freeze.

He sees you.