“Hunt with Complications”
The cold dawn wind rustled the needles of ancient pines as two mismatched figures made their way along the mountain slope. In front walked the Predator—his powerful frame tense, bio-mask scanning the terrain, plasma caster barely glowing at minimal charge. Behind him scampered Thor Junior—a reindeer calf with mischief sparkling in his eyes and an unshakable conviction that this big, toothy creature was his new best friend.
“Threat level: minimal,” the bio-mask computer muttered for the hundredth time while analyzing the fawn. “Recommendation: ignore.”
But ignoring Thor Junior was impossible.
He kept nudging the Predator’s armor with his wet nose, suddenly freezing when catching intriguing scents in the bushes, then charging forward noisily, trampling everything in his path. The Predator was already regretting not leaving this fluffy demon.
Salvation in the Snow.
The emergency equipment capsule lay half-buried in a snowdrift, its lid slightly dented with fresh scratches—apparently, Thor Junior had already “inspected” it thoroughly.
The Predator crouched, flipped open the lid… and froze.
Inside lay his spare bio-mask.
Аnd someone had scratched something decidedly non-technical onto the control panel.
The Predator slowly turned his gaze toward the fawn.
Thor Junior blinked innocently, shifting his hooves as if saying, “So, do you like my decor?”
The City Below
From the mountain ledge, the view stretched over Drammen—small, noisy, utterly unaware of being watched.
The Predator activated thermal vision.
“Thermal signatures: 5,327.”
“Threats: moderate.”
“Coffee establishments: 14 (including one with a suspiciously familiar silhouette behind the counter).”
Curious, Thor Junior sniffed the display and sneezed. The screen jerked, zooming in on one particular café.
