Dawn tried to rise, but night refused to let go. The sky dimmed as we ran, caught in that suffocating in-between where neither light nor darkness felt honest. Rain slid across my skin—soft, almost tender—like a hand meant to soothe. I might've believed it, too, if the thunder hadn't ripped through the sky, shaking the ground beneath our feet.
Hours.
That's how long we'd been running. My lungs burned with every breath, each one shallow and sharp, like my body was reminding me how fragile it still was. My legs moved on instinct alone. Pain had faded into something dull and constant, a weight I carried rather than fought. We still weren't there.
How long did they go yesterday?
The thought surfaced again, heavier this time. There was no reason for it to take so long. No excuse that made sense. What was supposed to be slow—careful, measured—had stretched into two days of wandering. Two days of mistakes I couldn't see but felt closing in around us.
Too far.
Too fast.
I clenched my jaw and kept running. If they'd pushed this deep without meaning to… then whatever lay ahead wouldn't forgive it. And neither would I—if something happened because I hadn't stopped them.
"I stopped them… I see it," I whispered. My voice came out shaky, ragged—like it didn't belong to me anymore.
The bones were enormous. Even from a distance, I could make them out through the rain and darkness, pale shapes rising from the ground like the remains of something that should never have existed. I couldn't see where they ended—only where they began. The sheer scale of it made my stomach twist.
Just how great was this beast…
The thought didn't finish before a chill ran down my spine, sharp and involuntary.
"Is something wrong?" Trace whispered. Her hand found my shoulder, fingers gripping the fabric of my garb as if anchoring herself to me.
"Not that I can see," I said quietly, though the words felt hollow even as I spoke them. "But from here on out, we walk. Slowly. Just in case."
Thunder split the sky before either of them could respond. The sound was violent—so loud it swallowed everything else. It wasn't distant. It wasn't ignorable. It was a warning.
As we drew closer, the rain slicking the ground beneath our feet, the truth finally took shape. My breath caught. I raised my arm, stopping both Trace and Sare behind me. My brows knit together as I turned back toward them, though they couldn't see the worry carved into my face in the darkness.
"Guys," I said under my breath, "there are dozens of Venomclasps… clinging to the ribs."
Sare inhaled sharply. "We can't fight that," she whispered. "Trace can't see."
I knew Sare could—her eyes could sense the life essence within living beings—but that didn't make this any less dangerous. If she focused too long… if she was noticed… I didn't want to risk it. Not like this. Not here.
Then Trace spoke, her voice low but steady. "We don't have a choice. We need the shelter. If another beast comes while we're out in the open…" She didn't finish, but she didn't need to. "We fight."
I hated how much sense it made. I hated that I agreed.
If we attacked them head-on, our chances of dying were real—immediate. But turning back meant exposure, meant waiting for something worse to find us first. My thoughts crashed into each other, one after another, like an endless tsunami—fear against reason, caution against necessity.
No matter which way I turned, the waves refused to settle.
"Alright," I said quietly, forcing my thoughts into a single line. "I have an idea."
"I'll use Shadow Dive. Mask my presence. Kill them one by one."
Thunder rolled overhead as if answering me. "The noise will cover anything I can't."
"That's not—" Trace started.
"No objections," I cut in, harsher than I meant to be. I didn't let myself look at her. "It's our best chance. I'll be silent. I won't draw the others' attention."
Sare was the one who spoke next. "Let him." Her voice was calm, but I could hear the strain beneath it. "It's the best plan we have right now. I'll watch Trace while you're gone."
Then, softer—directed only at me—"You're still hurt. If it becomes too much, you come back. We rethink. Don't push past that."
I nodded once. That was all I could afford.
I masked my presence and stepped into the shadows.
The world shifted. I wasn't running anymore—I was moving. Fast. Like swimming without resistance… no, like floating, carried forward by the dark itself. There was no weight, no drag—only direction and will.
Focus.
Last time, I'd lost myself in it. Lost track of time. Lost Sare's voice. I couldn't let my mind drift again—not here. Not now.
The bones rose before me as I emerged near the outer ribs. I chose the one farthest back. Isolated. Safe. From there, I'd work my way inward, down toward the base where the ribs vanished into the earth.
The scale of it stole my breath. Each rib wasn't just bone—it was an island, massive and pale, stretching into the darkness.
And crawling across them… were my targets.
I slipped back into my shadow and climbed the first rib, my body flattening instinctively against the massive curve of bone. It was slick with rain, cold beneath my palms, every step measured, deliberate.
When the moment came, I moved.
I dropped from above, landing behind the Venomclasp without a sound. Midnight slid across its throat in one precise motion. The creature let out a thin, strangled squeal—weak, panicked—but the thunder crashed overhead at the exact same moment, tearing the sound apart before it could travel. Only I heard it. Only I felt the brief twitch as life drained away.
I stayed still for a heartbeat longer than necessary, counting breaths that didn't matter anymore. Then I eased into a crouch and moved on.
The rain worked in my favor, washing my scent from the bone, dampening every step. Even the air felt heavy, pressed down by the storm. Everything about this place wanted to hide me—and I let it. I used it.
This is survival, I reminded myself.
Professor Scare's lessons surfaced unbidden. Not words—habits. Awareness. Patience. Control. I wasn't hunting out of confidence. I was hunting because hesitation meant death. That discipline, drilled into me until it became instinct, was the only reason my heart was still beating.
The next Venomclasp shifted, its body tensing as if it had felt something brush past it. It began to turn.
I closed the distance in two steps. Midnight flashed once, clean and final. The head separated from the body before fear could fully take shape.
The corpse collapsed soundlessly against the rib.
I didn't pause to watch it fall. There were still too many.
This is only one rib.
The realization hit harder than it should have. There were at least five more Venomclasps clinging to this one alone—and more beyond it. I didn't let the thought linger. I dove again, sinking back into shadow before doubt could take root.
The strain was catching up to me. My grip on Midnight felt unsteady, fingers stiff and slow to respond. My legs trembled each time I pushed off, and heat crawled beneath my skin like a fever, my body burning while the rain soaked me through. Every breath scraped my lungs raw.
Too much.
The nonstop running. The wounds that hadn't fully healed. The weight of everything I'd already pushed past. It was all stacking together, crushing down on me at once. Clearing all the bones—every rib, every creature—was impossible. I knew it.
Focus, I told myself sharply. Not yet.
I surfaced again and spotted the next two Venomclasps huddled close together, their bodies nearly touching. No room for hesitation. I leapt from the shadows, momentum carrying me forward. Midnight arced once—clean, precise—taking the first head before it could react. I didn't stop. The blade drove straight into the second's throat, burying itself deep before the creature could even scream.
I didn't pull away. I let gravity take me.
The world dropped out from under me as I fell back into the Shadow Realm, darkness closing in and swallowing the pain, the noise, the fear.
After this last one…
I go back.