Lucas and Dylan carried Yve from opposite ends, David supporting her legs as they carefully guided her toward the back of the military truck. Lucas climbed up first, easing her down onto the padded floor they'd set up. Dylan helped adjust her limp form, making sure her head rested gently.
Ava rushed over with more pillows. "Here—put these under her back. And this one for her head." Then she draped a blanket over Yve, smoothing it out as if that alone could fix everything.
Jenkins hopped into the truck bed with a medical bag. "I'll be monitoring her vitals and regenerative activity throughout the trip," he said, tone clipped, focused.
Dylan climbed in after, settling himself near Yve's side. Ethan joined him, sitting cross‑legged, elbows on his knees. Ava stayed close too, watching Yve with tight, worried eyes.
David slid into the passenger seat while Lucas closed the back doors, jogged to the driver's side, and climbed in.
Taylor stood outside the truck, shaking slightly. "Come back to me in one piece, Lucas."
She pulled him in and kissed him—long, deep, full of fear and hope tangled into one.
"I will," Lucas murmured.
He leaned down to Tyler, ruffling his hair. "You take care of your momma for me, alright?"
Tyler nodded hard. "Yes, Dad. Take care."
Lucas smiled, shut the door, and started the engine.
The convoy rolled out of the manor grounds, tires crunching over gravel.
Inside the front cab, David pulled out a worn map. "Damn. Like the good ol' days."
He ran his finger down the route they'd need to take. "Haven't used one of these since high school."
Lucas huffed. "I miss Google Maps."
David chuckled. "I miss French fries… and bars."
Lucas shot him a look. "I'm surprised you didn't get HIV from all the laid you were getting."
David smirked, unbothered. "What can I say? I'm very cautious."
A beat passed.
"You know what else I miss?" he asked.
Lucas pretended to think. "Internet? Watching all your fetishes in incognito?"
David blinked. "No. Yes. No—I was gonna say watching movies, but yeah, that too."
Lucas snorted, shaking his head. "Of course."
At the back of the truck, the ride was bumpy but steady. Yve lay in the center, pale and unmoving. Dylan hovered beside her like a sentinel, adjusting her head every few minutes, tugging the blanket straight, brushing stray strands of hair away from her face.
Ava watched him for a solid thirty seconds before snapping. "Dylan, will you quit it?" Her brows scrunched, voice sharp.
Dylan turned, blinking slowly. "Quit what?"
"That." Ava jabbed a finger. "Stop fussing over her every second. Good Lord—let her rest."
Ethan snorted, trying to suppress a laugh, while Jenkins pressed his lips together, shoulders shaking.
"She looks uncomfortable," Dylan muttered defensively.
"That's because you're constantly moving her," Ava shot back, arms crossed.
"She slips," Dylan replied, low and stubborn.
Ava rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. "Move. Your. Butt."
With a shove of her hip, she planted herself beside Yve, taking over. Dylan froze—offended, confused, helpless—all at once. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing everywhere except at her.
Ethan leaned back, grinning. "Man… it is annoying."
"Shut it, Ethan," Dylan growled, his jaw tight.
Ethan only smirked wider. "I mean, you do kinda overdo it. It's… entertaining."
Dylan shot him a glare that could peel paint.
Jenkins leaned in, monitoring Yve's breathing, then deadpanned without looking up. "Heart rate's slightly elevated. Likely because she's annoyed but too exhausted to verbalize how irritating you are."
Ethan burst out laughing. Ava smirked triumphantly. Even Jenkins' lips quirked—just barely.
Dylan stared at all of them, utterly unimpressed. "Tch," he muttered. "Ain't funny." But the corner of his mouth twitched, a tiny betrayal of amusement he'd never admit.
The truck rocked gently over uneven road. Jenkins had just finished checking Yve's pulse when another question tugged at his mind.
"Dylan," Jenkins started, adjusting his glasses, "where did the serpent come from?"
Dylan jerked his chin toward Yve's wrist. "That."
Jenkins leaned over, following the line of Dylan's finger—but only saw a bracelet.
"Where what?" he asked, confused.
Dylan reached down and touched the bracelet. "This."
Jenkins stared, deadpan. Ava and Ethan leaned in too, equally puzzled. "We're done with jokes now," Jenkins said, tone flat. "I'm serious."
Dylan shot him a look. "Do I look like I'm jokin'?"
Jenkins blinked, thrown off by Dylan's lack of expression. "Dylan, how can this tiny piece of jewelry possibly swallow two full‑grown adults?"
"Dunno what to tell you, doc," Dylan said. "But that's Nierven."
Jenkins inhaled slowly, pushing down his disbelief. He lifted Yve's wrist carefully, studying the bracelet.
He ran his fingers over the carved scales. Cold metal. Embossed texture. Solid, ordinary steel. He traced the small dragon‑like head, felt the ridges of the open jaw. His fingertip brushed the tiny fangs—sharp enough to prick his skin.
"How… how is this—"
Nierven's eyes flashed. Just a faint glow. Barely there. But alive.
Jenkins yelped, dropping Yve's arm like it burned him.
Dylan frowned. "Hey. Watch it."
"Sorry—" Jenkins stammered, pulse racing. "I thought… I thought I saw the eyes glow."
"That's 'cause you did," Dylan muttered. "Told ya. It's Nierven."
Ethan leaned closer, staring at the bracelet like it might jump at him. "Is there… perhaps a possibility that Pegasus are real?"
Dylan shrugged. "Don't know. Maybe."
Ava leaned over, tilting her head. "So… you're telling me this little bracelet ate people? Like, full-grown adults?"
"Yep," Dylan said flatly. "They're probably dangerous, so I say it's justified."
Ethan whistled. "Man… I can't even handle roaches."
Ava grinned. "Maybe we should just call it a really angry pet dragon."
Ethan leaned back, shaking his head. "I'd settle for a hamster that doesn't kill humans."
Dylan crossed his arms. "You all keep joking, but trust me… Nierven's no joke."
A beat.
Dylan exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the bracelet. "When I first saw Nierven… he nearly killed me."
Ethan's eyes widened. "Ooof. That must've been… scary."
"Scary doesn't even cover it," Dylan muttered. "Nierven hates it when people threaten him—or Yve. So, if you guys ever meet him… my advice? Stay calm."
Jenkins blinked, incredulous. "Who could possibly stay calm in that situation?"
Dylan tilted his head, expression flat but voice sharp. "At least don't show him you're a threat. He doesn't hesitate to kill."
Jenkins exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. "I have two PhDs. If you told me all of this was real back then… I'd have probably sent you straight to a psych ward."
Dylan snorted quietly. "No shit. Didn't believe it either at first. Thought I was hallucinatin'. Or losin' my damn mind."
Ethan leaned back, staring at the ceiling of the truck. "If Pegasus are real…" he smiled faintly, almost dreamy, "I hope I get to meet one. And if I do, I can die smiling."
Ava scoffed softly. "Emily would absolutely lose her mind at the sight of a Pegasus. She's still childish like that."
Jenkins stared at Yve for a long moment, voice lower now. "I still feel like… everything about her isn't real."
Dylan turned slowly, eyes flat. "If you want I can punch you in the face?"
A beat.
Jenkins blinked. "…That's highly inappropriate."
"Then she's real," Dylan said simply, turning back to Yve.
The truck rumbled on, the bracelet cold and quiet between them—watching.
The journey had gone fairly smooth for a couple of hours—until the truck slowed and came to a quiet stop. Dust drifted up from the tires, hanging in the warm afternoon light.
Ethan leaned forward, sliding open the small window to the front cab. "Why're we stoppin'?"
Lucas didn't take his eyes off the road ahead. "Horde. Up ahead."
Ethan peeked through the windshield. A mass of shriekers clustered across the road a good distance away, too many to count at a glance, tight and writhing in the sun.
"Dang," Ethan muttered. "What do we do?"
"David," Lucas said, voice low and sharp, "see if there's another route."
David unfolded the map, tracing with a finger. A tense beat passed.
"There's one…" he said finally. "We passed it—maybe an hour ago, maybe more."
Lucas exhaled through his nose. "Damn it." He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking fast, then looked at Ethan. "How's Yve holding up?"
Ethan glanced at Jenkins. "Doc—she good to travel another hour?"
Jenkins checked her vitals, hands precise and deliberate. "Stable. For now, at least."
Ethan relayed it. "She's good."
Lucas nodded, jaw tight. "Alright. We're turning back."
He shifted the truck into reverse as quietly as possible, engine humming low. Eyes never leaving the horde, he guided them back until the vehicle had cleared enough space to make the turn.
~~~
The compass in Ysa's hands twitched—barely at first. Then it pulled hard to the left.
Her breath caught. "It turned."
Callista immediately guided her Pegacampus closer. "It did? Then we're close?"
"I think so…" Ysa murmured. Her grip tightened as she angled the compass forward. "Follow it."
The Pegacampus herd shifted course in unison, sleek bodies cutting clean arcs through the water, tails sweeping the current like blades.
Lysander cracked his knuckles, a slow grin spreading. "So… do we get to fight mortals?"
Raine's eyes gleamed. "Ooooh. That sounds fun. Messy. Exciting."
"No one fights," Ysa snapped. Then, colder, sharper—"Unless they strike first."
A beat.
"Then we kill them all. No mercy. For what they did to my sister."
Lysander leaned closer, clearly enjoying it. "I like this side of you, Ysa. Mean. Dangerous." His grin widened. "Hot."
"Shut it, Sander," she shot back. "You're not helping."
Callista's tail flicked, uneasy. "Do we really have to kill them? Mortals are fragile. They won't survive us. Can't we just pass them by?"
Ysa turned on her, eyes hard. "That's your flaw, Callista. You feel pity for humans." Her lip curled. "They've hunted us for millennia. Dragged us from the sea. Cut us open. Why should I spare their kind?"
Callista didn't look away. Her voice stayed calm—gentle, but unyielding.
"Because your sister loves them."
The words landed clean. "Are you really going to strip that happiness from her?"
Ysa froze. Just for a heartbeat.
Her jaw clenched. The fury in her eyes fractured, something raw slipping through before she could bury it again.
Raine stretched lazily atop her Pegacampus, unbothered. "Honestly? I'm good either way." She smiled, dark and careless. "I came to have fun."
Her soft chuckle rippled through the water, low, predatory. "And this?" she added. "This is very fun."
~~~
The military truck sputtered… groaned… then died completely.
Lucas slapped the steering wheel once. "Damn it. Out of fumes."
He double-checked the dashboard—the needle buried at empty.
"How far?" he asked David.
"Fairly close," David said, eyes scanning the map. "Six kilometers, give or take."
Lucas exhaled. "About an hour on foot, then."
He shoved the door open and walked around to the back. "We're walking from here. No gas left."
Dylan didn't hesitate. "Alright. I'll carry Yve."
Lucas nodded but warned, "It's almost sunset. We gotta move fast."
Carefully, the group lifted Yve from the truck. Her limbs dangled, pale and heavy. Dylan slid his arms under her, lifting her in a bridal carry, holding her close like she was the most fragile thing in the world.
Jenkins hopped out, medical bag in hand, immediately checking Yve's breathing, pulse, the dryness of her skin. "She's stable for now," Jenkins said. "But the sooner she hits saltwater, the better."
Ava stepped forward. "Give me your tomahawk."
Dylan frowned. "Why?"
"I'll carry it for you."
"I got it."
Ava's hand went to her hip. "Just hand it over, Dyl. Makes it easier."
Dylan looked away, jaw ticking. Then he let Ava unhook the tomahawk. She then slotted it into her belt with practiced ease.
"Perfect," she muttered.
Dylan grunted. Translation: thank you.
Jenkins tightened the straps on his bag. "I'll walk beside you. Keep an eye on any changes."
Lucas locked the truck doors, slung his rifle over his shoulder, and gestured. "Stay close. Eyes on the tree line. Move fast. No stopping."
The group fell into formation. Lucas and David led, Ava and Ethan flanking, Jenkins beside Dylan, and Dylan carrying Yve steadily, every step careful, deliberate.
~~~
The walk was quiet.
Not peaceful — just quiet in that heavy, post‑apocalypse way where everyone listened, watched, and every shadow seemed suspicious.
A few shriekers wandered onto the road ahead. The moment one snarled, Lucas gestured sharply with two fingers.
No guns.
Silent kills only.
Ava swung Dylan's tomahawk with brutal efficiency, beheading the first.
David drove his knife into the second, chest pierced cleanly.
Ethan jammed his rifle through the last one.
They kept moving.
Fast.
Focused.
The air smelled of salt before they even saw it.
A vast stretch of blue shimmered under the rising night.
"Finally," Ethan exhaled, relief washing over his face.
Ava stopped at the edge of the sand, shoulders rising with a slow inhale. "Haven't been to the ocean since the apocalypse…"
Dylan shifted Yve in his arms, adjusting her gently, bringing her closer to his chest.
Lucas noticed the strain in Dylan's arms, the sweat beading on his forehead. "You need help?"
Dylan shook his head once. "I got it." But the tremor in his fingers told a different story.
The group stepped onto the sand — soft, sinking slightly beneath their boots. The sky was deep orange fading into violet, the sun kissing the horizon in its last minutes.
They moved quickly.
When they reached the shallow water, waves lapped at their ankles — cold, pulling, familiar to Yve in some silent, unseen way.
Dylan knelt in the surf, lowering her slowly but protectively against his arm while David assisted him.
Meanwhile, Ysa gripped the compass as its needle tilted sharply to the side. "We're close," she said, voice tight. "The compass—it's tilting more."
Raine placed two fingers on the side of the Pegacampus at the front. "Forward," she commanded, soft but firm.
The creatures obeyed instantly, sleek tails angling upward as their bodies cut through the water with powerful strokes.
Seconds later—
They broke the surface.
Waves surged around them, glittering under the last shards of sunlight as the transformation took hold. The sirens' tails split into long, elegant legs, droplets cascading off their skin like scattered gems. Beneath them, the Pegacampus shifted as well—their aquatic tails reshaping into four powerful hooves, wings unfurling from their sides, shaking off water in heavy sprays like storm‑born feathers. What should have been a fairytale looked terrifying, alive, and utterly real under the rising darkness.
Ysa's gaze snapped toward the shoreline.
Lysander inhaled sharply. "Is that—?"
He didn't finish. Ysa already knew.
Her pupils thinned to vertical predator slits. Night vision snapped into perfect clarity. Far beyond the reach of normal human eyes, she saw it: Two strangers lowering Yve into the water, surrounded by more strangers.
Her heart froze. Then shattered into pure panic. "No." Her voice was a whisper of dread.
In one motion, she lowered her hand and touched the surface of the water. Her bow manifested, glowing, formed from raw ocean energy.
Callista gasped. "Celeste—wait, don't—"
But Ysa was already pulling back the string. An arrow made out of her pure energy manifesting.
Her mind raced through worst-case scenarios: Yve pale, unconscious, possibly harmed by these strangers.
She didn't hesitate.
She fired.
The arrow screamed across the dim horizon, cutting through the wind in a streak of glowing light.
It struck David in the shoulder—a perfect shot, precise, deadly accurate, yet deliberately missing any vital artery by centimeters.
David howled, dropping to his knees in the surf.
Ava, Ethan, Lucas, and even Jenkins reacted instantly, weapons snapping up, eyes scanning the dark expanse of the sea.