IT HAD HAPPENED AGAIN.

And it would continue to happen, over and over—here on the Rock, and elsewhere throughout the wide-reaching world. The Rock would feel every meaningless death like a stab to the flesh of its great old aching heart.

If the Rock didn’t act quickly, more would die, and soon.

But if it was simply a matter of action, the Rock would have long ago flattened every last one of the invaders into the ground, then swallowed them into oblivion.

Slaying the beast was a task the Rock could not complete alone.

The Rock felt its daughters’ feet beat angry paths into its ravaged flesh, and sent out its call, and waited for them to wake up.