From between the gaps in the mighty walls, villagers craned their necks, hoping to bear witness to the scene before them. For over a week, their small sanctuary had been surrounded by flesh-hungry undead. They were cut off from the outside world. The search teams that were sent to retrieve vital supplies had never returned. Then, out of nowhere, the man and the lion came.
The pair were spotted a mile out by guards on the parapets atop the massive log stockade. They walked without worry, never increasing their speed and only pausing to dispatch any of the undead deemed an immediate threat. The sentries watched through binoculars as both man and beast were bitten repeatedly without injury. They stared in amazement as the duo tore creatures to bits without breaking a sweat. That was more than 12 hours ago. The sun had set, yet they didn’t falter. Now, it began to rise, and despite the seemingly endless onslaught of zombies, the pair never faltered. Bodies of the truly dead lay torn asunder forming a ring within which the combatants fought.
During a momentary break in the battle, the pair stood back to back, a smile crept up the face of the gore-splattered man, and villagers swear a bigger one graced the muzzle of the lion. At some unspoken signal, the man thrust his arms out and swung them towards one another. As the bracelets on his wrists met, a thunderous crash exploded from them that was met simultaneously by the ear-splitting roar of the lion. The villagers were forced to cover their ears. The ground violently shook. Some say the heavens parted. The remaining undead approaching the pair vaporized. When the reverberation died away, the villagers looked in awe as the pair simply turned and walked back the way they had come.
