Written by T.K. Sivgin, illustrated by Flying Dutchman.
Ferntails have relatively little to fear in Dome 5’s biggest microcontinent Thule. Descending from heavily armoured fish, there is not much which can penetrate their carapace. Most of the typical placoderm-predators of Dome 4 did not migrate over with them, while the Myxini that came over from Dome 6 are too small and have an inadequate jaw structure to evolve a truly crushing bite. As such, a true top predator of ferntails, which I imagine to be a formidable creature with mantis-shrimp-like arms, seems to be lacking. At least during the day...
The deep, dark night, where the cold winds spread their merciless freeze and and the artificial firmament invites no stargazers, is when fear overcomes ferntails just as it does with every other animal. This is the time when the Akator (Ambuloforfex magnificus) stalks almost every forest of Thule, with only the most gifted ears being able to hear its sonar pings. We should be weary too, for what else should be feared but something that is completely eyeless and can still see perfectly in the dark?
The Akator is a relic of earlier times in Dome 5. Like the ferntails it is a placoderm, but details of its skull structure reveal that it is a highly derived descendant of the Phyllolepida, an order of flat, nearly or completely eyeless, deep water fish that were rather obscure in the Devonian. Much evidence exists, however, that after some ecological collapse on the Rhynia shortly after indexing, the phyllolepids became prominent in Dome 5 and evolved their first terrestrial members ahead of most other groups. If the Akator is anything to judge, this must have been a whole clade of creatures that were as wondrous as they were hideous: Reptilic but smooth-skinned bodies attached to clump-feet and grotesque, eyeless armored heads with two pairs of nostrils and bizarre melon-organs or bone-arches used for echolocation. Though they may have reigned here for a long time, once the great migrations came they may have been at a disadvantage, for the newcomers had more flexible limbs as well as eyes. Today the Akator and its close relatives are the last remnants of this ancient radiation, as well as the cetaceous sabephs, who still rule the seas of this dome.
What guarantees the Akator its continued existence is likely its specialization as a nighttime predator of ferntails, a lifestyle no other creature here has achieved. For that purpose it has evolved a unique jaw structure that puts the pseudoteeth of its aquatic relatives to shame. Instead of teeth, its giant mouth bears pairs of freighteningly sharp bone blades akin to those of arthrodiran predators, which glide against each other to always stay sharp. Powered by massive jaw muscles, these can cut through the carapace of placoderms like scissors through wrapping paper. The Akator most often hunts by stalking the typically diurnal ferntail herds at night. Once the herds go to sleep in their congregations, it picks out young, small, old or sick individuals sitting too close to the edge and slowly ambushes them, the snow dampening the sound of its footsteps. The herd usually does not notice that someone is missing until they wake up the next day.
During the day the Akator sleeps alone in a burrow deep inside the forest, for its lack of sight gives it a disadvantage compared to its prey. Akators are solitary and highly territorial, usually claiming vast acres of forest as their own. During mating season they become more social in order to continue the survival of their species. Female Akators give live birth, usually to a litter of two or three young, which she feeds in her burrow with crushed ferntail or nivipod remnants she brings home. After a few months, the young are driven out by their mother and have to carve out a hunting ground of their own.
The species is found on all of Thule and surrounding islands. What is fascinating is that populations of different regions vary between each other. In the north, where the ferntails tend to be larger in size, the Akators are also larger the average. In the south and on islands they are smaller and also have a slightly different stripe pattern. Other populations also possess stripping and spotting differences. This has sparked a discussion around these different morphs being in fact subspecies of A. magnificus, if not their own species, but their genetics show all these populations to be too closely related for that and for these differing appearances to actually be controlled by environmental influences rather than genetic ones. Similar to zebras, A. magnificus simply seems to be a species with high variation within populations.
Dangerous encounters between akators and our operations have so far not been recorded... with recorded being the keyword here. During the examination of an abandoned akator-burrow on the isle of Teranike, the guys from Research Team Schoedsack found the remnants of what appears to have once been a human femur. Apart from being distressing, this is also highly bizarre. Since the start of operations, none of the teams working in Dome 5 have never reported a missing person or a deadly encounter. Who did the remains belong to then? The researchers say they have no clue and apparently neither does our upper management (though I doubt we can fully trust them). One member of the Schoedsack team confided to me in private that along with the bones was found a metal nametag, apparently half digested before being vomitted out again by the Akator. As such, only the first name was readable, which indicates that the snack was once a certain "Joel".
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