I snarled, feeling raw power surge through my body as I ripped apart Taskmaster's cloak, leaving him exposed. My form wasn't human anymore—I had transformed into the dinosaur again. This wasn't the first time it had happened. The first time was when Venom, desperate to save me, pushed my body into this primal, savage state, believing that becoming a dinosaur was the best way to survive.

Even now, it seemed my body remembered that strength, that untamed ferocity. I towered over Taskmaster, my claws flexing, tail swishing dangerously as I bared razor-sharp teeth. My breath came out in guttural growls, and my vision was sharper, more primal. Every movement Taskmaster made seemed painfully slow, and I could sense every shift in his stance, every bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.

Taskmaster huffed, wiping the sweat from his brow as he took a step back. His usually calm demeanor faltered, his mask tilting as if he were sizing me up. "You're stronger than I remember, Shadow," he admitted, his voice lacking its usual smugness.

I took a step forward, my claws digging into the ground, the rumble in my chest deepening. "You've been training, huh?" he continued, trying to keep his composure. "But you're not the only one who's evolved."

He reached behind his back, pulling out a device I didn't recognize—a sleek, black cylinder that began to hum as it activated. A faint, high-pitched sound filled the air, making my sensitive ears twitch painfully. I growled, shaking my head, but the sound only grew louder, sharper, until it felt like my skull was splitting.

Taskmaster smirked, the confidence returning to his posture. "This? It's ultrasonic. Designed to mess with anything that's not entirely human. Like you."

I stumbled, my claws scraping against the ground as I tried to stay upright. The primal side of me roared in defiance, fighting to keep control, but the pain was overwhelming. My vision blurred, and for a moment, I thought I'd lose the fight.

But then, somewhere in the haze, I heard a familiar voice in my mind.

"You're not alone, Y/N. Fight back."

It wasn't Venom. It was the other voice—the one that claimed to be Godzilla.

Before I could think, instinct took over. I slammed my tail into the ground, sending a shockwave through the area. Taskmaster stumbled, the device slipping from his hand. I lunged, swiping it away with a claw before pinning him to the ground with a guttural snarl.

His eyes widened as he struggled beneath my weight. "Okay, okay! Maybe I underestimated you!" he coughed, his bravado crumbling.

I leaned in close, my growl vibrating through the air. "You should've stayed out of my way," I rumbled, my voice distorted by the dinosaur form.

Before I could decide what to do next, Spider-Man swung in, landing on a nearby tree. "Whoa, Shadow! Easy! Let's not go full Jurassic Park on him, okay?"

I hesitated, the primal urge to end the fight clashing with Spider-Man's words. Slowly, I pulled back, my claws retracting as I stepped away from Taskmaster, who groaned and scrambled to his feet, clutching his ribs.

"This isn't over," Taskmaster spat, retreating into the shadows.

As the adrenaline faded, my body began to shift back. The transformation wasn't as smooth as before—it hurt. By the time I was human again, I was trembling, barely able to stand.

Spider-Man was by my side in an instant, steadying me. "You okay?" he asked, his voice soft.

I nodded weakly, though I wasn't sure I believed it. "Yeah... but I don't think this is the last we'll see of him."

Spider-Man sighed, glancing in the direction Taskmaster had fled. "No, probably not. But next time, let's not let him turn you into a science experiment, okay?"

I managed a weak smile, but deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that my transformations were becoming harder to control—and that Taskmaster wasn't the only one who had his eyes on me.

I glanced over at the duo standing before me—Wolverine, the grizzled, weathered fighter with a wild, untamable aura, and the blonde kid, Kazar, who had an almost primal energy about him. His blue eyes were sharp, scanning me with a mixture of curiosity and something that felt almost like understanding. He stood tall and confident, with a spear in his hand, his posture straight as he waited for me to respond. His attire was simple, but practical—worn leather and fabric that blended well with the harsh surroundings. The moment he spoke, I noticed the rawness in his voice, a tone that hinted at a life lived in the wild.

"So, you're the one I've heard so much about, huh?" Kazar said with a slight smirk, as if trying to size me up in a single glance. The wildness of his energy contrasted with his calm words, but there was no mistaking it—he was a force to be reckoned with.

He extended a hand toward me, his fingers calloused and strong. "I'm Kazar."

I shook his hand firmly, feeling the strength in his grip. There was no doubt in my mind that this kid knew how to survive out here. His movements were purposeful, deliberate, like someone who had spent their entire life in the wild. The spear he held was more than just a weapon; it was an extension of him, a tool for survival that had seen countless battles.

As we shook hands, Kazar tapped the butt of his spear on the ground, the sound sharp and echoing through the dense jungle that surrounded us. "Come on," he said, his voice carrying a hint of urgency. "We need to find Zabu. He's the only one I've got left."

His words hung in the air, and I could feel the gravity of what he was saying. The urgency in his tone wasn't lost on me. Whoever Zabu was, he clearly meant a great deal to Kazar—perhaps more than anyone else. It wasn't just about finding someone; it was about rescuing what little family he had left in this brutal, untamed land.

The surrounding jungle seemed to press in on us, the thick, humid air heavy with the scent of moss, dirt, and the sharp tang of sweat. Birds called in the distance, their cries echoing through the trees, but the sense of isolation and the weight of the wild still made me feel small, even with Wolverine and Kazar by my side.

I nodded, glancing between Kazar and Wolverine. "Alright," I said, my voice steady but tinged with the weight of the unknown. "Let's go find Zabu."

Kazar gave a small, determined nod, his face tightening into a focused expression. His body seemed to exude confidence, but there was a deeper layer to him—something that spoke of loss, survival, and the desperate need to find the one remaining piece of family he had in this savage land.

Wolverine gave a low grunt, his eyes narrowing in on me for a split second before shifting to the dense jungle ahead. His claws were out, the dangerous gleam in his gaze telling me everything I needed to know. He was ready for whatever came next.

And as we started moving forward, the dense foliage closing in around us, I couldn't shake the feeling that this jungle, this Savage Land, had more secrets waiting to be uncovered than any of us were prepared for.