To the Victors...

The night was calm as ever down in Atlantis- unnaturally still, cool but still moist with the wetness that never seemed to fade. The plant-covered gates of the queen's compound were closed down, shut for the nights- no guards remained outside, confident that nothing would be able to breach their sheer, unstoppable walls. But little did they know, something already had.

A dark shadow splattered with pale yellow and dark blue silently flapped its way over the metal walls, gripping at foliage as it landed on the top. Orange eyes peered around, searching for any sign of life. While the flyers night-vision was far from developed for night life, it was leagues above those that belonged to the creatures of the dome. When night came they were quick to seal themselves inside the ruins of humanity, like a flower retreating into its petals once the sun sets. But that was their mistake- the Atlanteans were ignorant and arrogant in their ways. They had grown down here with no natural predators to stop them, believing themselves invincible thanks to their speed, their size, their armor. But they had dared to challenge the natural order of things- had dared to claim themselves untouchable and invincible. And so, they must fall.

The tropeognathus carefully slipped his way down the wall, careful to avoid making too much noise. His black and tan beak carefully found their way to the lock- it was little effort to slide the various locks free. Clearly, the Atlanteans had never expected they would have to face anything with wings made for flight. Their mistake. It took marginally more effort for Strike to push the gates open- a low creak rang out through the compound as he heaved and pushed, but the mud that made his task harder also muffled the sound. The gate was barely big enough for an iguanodon to push their way through, and even as large as he was, Strike still struggled. But he did not need to open it all the way- the two on the other side of the gate had noticed the creak of the gates, and were quick to act.

The tropeognathus only had the warning of the almost silent thud of huge footsteps before the gates started pushing back against him as something huge slammed into the other side. Muffling his shriek of shock, the flyer quickly took off into the air, landing back on the wall to observe.

Slowly the gates opened- slow not from effort, but from an attempt to keep the entry as silent as possible. Slowly, a hulking white and black form skulked his way under the gate, heavy footsteps muffled by the mud underneath him. Blackout rose his great head to scent the air, the scent of so much prey in such a small area causing his eyes to narrow. A nip to the back of his tail caused him to scowl but to pull fully into the compound. Whiteout followed behind, identical in almost every way. A hungry gleam was already filling his eyes as he glanced around the place. No one had awoken yet- good. The acrocanthosaurus had to remind himself of the deal they had made with Strike- he would let them in, and they would allow him to lead them in their warpath.

The quiet beating of wings had both of the twins look up at the looming shadow above them. Strike nodded at them once, before quickly turning and flying deeper into the compound. Whiteout and Blackout shared a look before slowly falling after- lowing themselves down into stalking position, putting one foot in front of the other as silently as they could. While the Atlanteans seemed to be incredibly lax in their security, the white markings against their black scales would easily give them away should someone be as smart as to look for it. 

However, the duo managed to sneak through the edges of the compound unnoticed, eventually making their way to a small clearing to the side. The compound was littered with various ruins in varying states of disarray. The scent of smaller, more feathered creatures clung to the more run down buildings on the outskirts- while the scent of the larger herbivores was mostly centered around the central buildings. Good to know.

Strike was waiting for them in the clearing, angrily looking at the piles of various supplies scattered around. Bags of seeds, dirt, and even young plant cuttings were carefully placed around the clearing, set aside and ready to be transported to the mainland once the dawn bloomed. The acrocanthosaurus twins growled low in their throats, teeth bared as they looked around at the plants with disgusted expressions across their face. While they were far from heavily affected by the slow overtaking of their island by plants, they viewed it as an insult. How dare these vermin hide away in their underwater paradise, how dare they think they were entitled to their lands and their homes? 

Strike looked at the two of them, before nodding and flying down to rip at one of the sacks of seeds with his beak. With a low tearing sound it tore, seeds spilling across the soil. The flyer could not help but think of it as fair punishment- see how they would like their dens being overrun by vicious, snapping plants.

Whiteout and Blackout wasted no time either. Blackout snarled lowly as he grabbed a large bag full of plant cuttings, shaking it rapidly and imagining the shreds of flora were instead shed feathers of the ones who dared plant them. Whiteout lashed out with his tail, knocking over racks of plants and causing pots to smash into the ground. Strike grinned as he joined them in the chaos, letting out a low laughing sound as he surveyed the destruction.

The sound of confused muttering caused them to freeze, the sound of small footsteps filling their ears. The two large carnivores crouched down among the fallen foliage, while Strike quickly flapped his wings and settled on a nearby roof.

An oviraptor stumbled into the scene, squinted in the dull lighting. He did not seem to notice the large footprints in the ground- good. Blackout and Whiteout waited patiently as the oviraptor hurried ever closer- alerted by the sound of its confused gasp as it finally was able to make out the destruction. Strike grinned at the other two from the roof- the hard part was done. Now, it was time to feed.