Then he saw them. The Birds.
And in the distance, three red birds were already running toward him. Not angry. Hungry. -HIGHSPEED- bad piggies key
“Turn back,” they chirped in harmonies that shattered his mirrors. “The Key steals from the future. Every mile you take now, a second you lose later.” Then he saw them
He slammed the throttle. The Key overheated, turning from green to white. The Scorcher folded in on itself. For one perfect, terrible moment, the pig existed everywhere at once—inside a falling tree, under a hatching egg, in the moment before a slingshot snapped. under a hatching egg