Slovax soared through the sky, feeling the wind in his hair and the sun on his face. He loved flying, especially on a clear day like this. He felt free and happy, and proud of his country. He looked down and saw the beautiful landscape of Slovakia, with its green hills, blue rivers, and historic cities. He smiled and waved at the people who recognized him and cheered for him. He was their hero, their protector, their champion. He was Slovax.
He was on his way to Bratislava, the capital city, where he had been invited to attend a ceremony in his honor. The president of Slovakia wanted to thank him for his recent deeds, such as saving a bus full of children from a landslide, stopping a bank robbery, and foiling a terrorist plot. Slovax was humble and modest, but he appreciated the recognition and gratitude. He knew he was doing the right thing, and he enjoyed helping others.
He arrived at the presidential palace, where he was greeted by a crowd of reporters, politicians, and fans. He smiled and shook hands, and answered some questions. He was polite and respectful, and spoke in Slovak. He loved his language and his culture, and often used phrases and idioms that reflected them. He was also fluent in English and several other languages, but he preferred his native tongue.
He entered the palace, where he met the president and his staff. They welcomed him warmly, and praised him for his heroism. They led him to a hall, where a podium and a microphone were set up. The president announced that he was going to award Slovax with the Order of the White Double Cross, the highest honor of the country. He said that Slovax was a symbol of courage, justice, and patriotism, and that he deserved the respect and admiration of the whole nation.
Slovax thanked the president, and said that he was honored and humbled by the award. He said that he was just doing his duty, and that he owed everything to his country and his people. He said that he was proud to be Slovak, and that he would always defend and serve his homeland. He said that he hoped to inspire others to follow his example, and to work together for a better future. He ended his speech with a quote from the national anthem: "God save our Slovak land!"
The audience applauded and cheered, and the president handed him the medal. Slovax put it on his chest, next to his stylized S. He felt a surge of emotion, and smiled. He was happy and fulfilled. He had achieved his dream.
Suddenly, he heard a loud roar, followed by a crash. He turned around, and saw a huge hole in the wall of the palace. He saw smoke and dust, and heard screams and sirens. He saw a figure emerge from the rubble, holding a stone axe and a bone knife. He recognized him immediately. He was his archenemy, his nemesis, his opposite. He was Neandros.
Neandros was the leader of a tribe of Neanderthals, who lived in a hidden valley in the Carpathian Mountains. He was a fierce warrior and a skilled hunter, who used his abilities to communicate with and command wild animals. He also crafted deadly weapons from stone and bone, such as axes, spears, and knives. He hated the modern humans who invaded his lands and threatened his people's survival. He vowed to destroy them and their civilization, and restore the world to its primal state.
He had been hunting Slovax for a long time, ever since he learned of his existence. He saw him as the ultimate enemy, the epitome of everything he despised. He saw him as a traitor to his kind, a sellout to the invaders, a puppet of the corrupt system. He saw him as a challenge, a worthy opponent, a worthy prey. He wanted to kill him, and take his power for himself.
He had tracked him down to Bratislava, where he had infiltrated the city with the help of his animal allies. He had waited for the right moment to strike, and had found it. He had blown up the wall of the palace with a bomb he had stolen from a military base, and had entered the hall where Slovax was. He had seen him receive the medal, and had felt a surge of rage. He had roared and charged at him, ready to fight.
Slovax saw him coming, and reacted quickly. He pushed the president and the others out of the way, and flew towards Neandros. He activated his device on his wrist, and fired a blast of energy at him. Neandros dodged the blast, and threw his axe at Slovax. Slovax caught the axe, and snapped it in half. He threw the pieces back at Neandros, who blocked them with his knife. He blew his horn, and summoned his animal friends. A pack of wolves, a bear, and a boar entered the hall, and attacked Slovax.
Slovax fought back, using his strength, flight, and energy blasts. He knocked out the wolves, and threw the bear and the boar out of the window. He faced Neandros, who was still holding his knife. He said to him, in Slovak:
"Neandros, stop this madness. You don't have to do this. We can coexist peacefully. We are not enemies, we are brothers."
Neandros replied, in a guttural language that only he and his tribe understood:
"Slovax, you are a fool. You don't belong here. You belong with us. You have betrayed your kind, your heritage, your nature. You are not my brother, you are my prey. And I will kill you."
He lunged at Slovax, and stabbed him in the chest. Slovax felt a sharp pain, and looked down. He saw blood, and the knife. He saw the medal, and the S. He felt a surge of sadness, and anger. He grabbed Neandros by the throat, and lifted him up. He said to him, in English:
"Neandros, you are a monster. You don't deserve to live. You have killed many innocent people, and destroyed many precious things. You are not my prey, you are my enemy. And I will stop you."
He activated his device on his wrist, and fired a blast of energy at Neandros. Neandros felt a burning sensation, and looked up. He saw light, and heat. He saw the medal, and the S. He felt a surge of fear, and hate. He screamed, and died.
Slovax dropped Neandros' body, and fell to the ground. He felt weak, and tired. He saw the hole in the wall, and the smoke and dust. He heard the screams and sirens. He saw the people who ran towards him, and tried to help him. He saw the president and his staff, who thanked him and praised him. He saw the reporters and the fans, who asked him questions and took pictures of him. He saw the medal, and the S. He felt a surge of regret, and pain. He closed his eyes, and died.
He was their hero, their protector, their champion. He was Slovax.
