As their battle comes to its climax, Maxwell gets flashbacks to the moment that led him down this path. It was many years when Maxwell was just a young lad, about 8 years of age. He and his friends sat on rocks by the swamp, their skin and clothes dirty and torn. Maxwells fiery reddish hair was in cornrows. They sat by the swamp throwing rocks at Croco-slugs. Grotesque abominations. The slugs. Grew up to twenty to thirty feet. They had teeth like crocodiles, but much longer.

They had silver hard plated scales on their backs and the center of their heads, which took no damage to gunshots or even blunt weapons. Their tails look like crocodile tails and their slime was acidic, melting everything besides the other inhabitants of the swamp that grew accustomed to it. The boys continued throwing rocks at the monster as they slowly swam across the swamp unfazed by the rocks being thrown at.

Then suddenly, a voice started shouting at the boys.