4338.209 · July 28, 2018 AD
The Berriedale Shadow Panther
It followed prey through the light and found itself somewhere wrong. The air tasted of poison. The darkness was never complete. But the hunter was still a hunter, and this strange world was full of soft things that had never learned to fear what moved in the night.
The Portal closed behind it. One moment, a coordinated hunt in Clivilius darkness. The next, alone in a world that burned its eyes and confused its senses. The prey it had followed—the female with blood on her arm—had stopped running. Had found steel somewhere inside herself. The hunter let her go. There would be others.
Earth had no name for what now stalked its nights. The thing in the shadows of Berriedale was faster, smarter, and more savage than anything in Tasmania's ecosystem. It hunted not from hunger but from instinct older than memory.
The locals would call it a big cat. They had no idea how wrong they were.
