Thunder detonated overhead, the sound so violent it fractured my thoughts mid-stride. It wasn't just noise—it was pressure, crushing and suffocating, rattling my skull until everything blurred together. Pain screamed through my body in jagged waves, each pulse sharper than the last, as if my nerves were being torn apart one by one. Exhaustion clung to me like wet chains, dragging at my limbs, clouding my judgment.
I couldn't think clearly anymore.
Three more Venomclasps.
That was all. Just three, and the first bone would finally be clear. The path would open. We could move forward. We could breathe.
But I already knew the truth.
I couldn't do it alone.
What truly frightened me wasn't the pain—wasn't even the fact that my body felt like it was on the verge of collapse. It was the other bones. The way monsters clung to them in clusters, layered and patient, as if the ruin itself had grown teeth. Too many. Far too many. Even if I pushed myself past the breaking point… I wouldn't survive long enough to matter.
My chest tightened.
I didn't want to admit it. I hated the thought. Hated the weakness it implied.
One more, I told myself desperately. Just one more, then I regroup with Trace and Sare.
The decision settled in my mind like a final nail, pinning down the doubt clawing at me. I couldn't afford hesitation—not now.
I slipped into the Shadow Realm.
The world dimmed instantly, colors draining as if reality itself was holding its breath. Sound twisted, stretched thin and distant, and my body felt lighter—wrong, but familiar. Shadows wrapped around me like cold water, dulling the ache just enough to move.
Two Venomclasps crawled together along the bone ahead, their jagged limbs clicking softly as they shifted. Predatory. Alert. Too close to each other.
The third lingered farther away.
Alone.
My pulse quickened.
That's the one.
I moved carefully, every step measured despite the tremor in my legs. The shadows hid me, bent around my form, and for a fleeting moment I felt like I still had control—like I wasn't already unraveling.
I emerged from the Realm and struck.
I aimed for its throat.
At the last instant, my vision swam. Pain flared violently through my shoulder, stealing the precision from my swing.
The blade missed.
Midnight slammed into its chest instead, biting deep but not deep enough.
I hit the ground hard, the impact jarring every broken, aching part of me. The breath tore from my lungs in a ragged gasp as I stared up at the creature towering over me.
Its screech ripped through the air—shrill, furious, alive.
No… damn it.
Fear surged, raw and immediate.
It swiped at me. I barely reacted in time, dragging Midnight up to block. The force of the impact shuddered through my arms, numbing my fingers. I didn't have the strength to stabilize myself. My footing slipped. My legs buckled.
I was falling.
I surrendered to instinct and let the Shadow Realm pull me under.
Darkness folded around me, swallowing the world whole.
From within the shadows, I looked up—and my stomach dropped.
The other two Venomclasps were already moving.
They scuttled toward the injured one with terrifying speed, drawn by the sound, by blood, by weakness. Their forms blurred together as they closed the distance, and for the first time since entering this place, a sharp, undeniable fear pierced through me.
This wasn't just dangerous.
This was suicide.
I clenched my katana so tightly my knuckles burned. My jaw locked, teeth grinding as frustration and anger warred with the creeping dread in my chest.
I wanted to finish it.
I wanted to push through.
I wanted to prove I wasn't helpless.
But my body trembled, betraying me.
I can't.
The realization hurt more than any wound.
Retreating, I sank deeper into the shadows, pulling away before they could reach me. Each step back felt like a failure carved into my spine, but I forced myself to keep moving.
A promise echoed in my mind—quiet, bitter, and absolute.
If it became too difficult…
If staying meant dying for nothing…
I would fall back.
Even if it meant admitting I wasn't enough.
I drifted through the empty, lightless vastness of the Shadow Realm, moving toward Trace and Sare as if pulled by a thinning thread. There was nothing here—no ground, no sky, no sense of direction—just endless dark pressing in on me from every side. My body begged me to stop.
Let go, it whispered.
Rest.
The shadows felt soft. Inviting. Too easy.
My limbs grew heavy, numb, and my thoughts began to fray at the edges. It would have been so simple to relax here, to let the dark carry me until there was nothing left to feel. No pain. No fear. No responsibility.
I clenched my mind around a single thought and held it with everything I had.
Not now.
My head throbbed violently, as if my skull were splitting apart from the strain. Focusing hurt—thinking hurt—but I forced myself to cling to that thought like my life depended on it. It felt like my fingernails were scraping against stone, clawing desperately for purchase as I was dragged backward toward oblivion.
I couldn't let go.
Not yet.
With a final, desperate push, I reached them.
I tore myself out of the Shadow Realm and collapsed back into the real world, gasping violently as air flooded my lungs. My breath came in broken, ragged heaves, so sharp and panicked it felt like I'd just been dragged from deep water. My vision swam. The world tilted.
I barely stayed upright.
Trace and Sare were on me instantly, their movements frantic. Hands grabbed my shoulders, steadying me as my body shook uncontrollably. They were trembling too—I could feel it.
Sare swallowed hard, her voice tight as she tried to reassure herself more than me.
"Did you… did you do it?"
I sucked in another shallow breath, forcing my body to obey me. Slowly, painfully, I sat up, my hands digging into the dirt as if I needed to anchor myself to reality.
"No," I said hoarsely. "There are too many."
Sare exhaled, the sound heavy with worry, but she nodded.
"Then we clear one bone and stay there. They're big enough—separate islands. We can hold one."
I nodded faintly. "There are still three more. And now… their guard is up."
The admission burned.
And I can't use Shadow Dive for a while.
The thought struck like a blade. My jaw tightened until it ached, and my hands clenched in the dirt, knuckles whitening as frustration and helpless anger surged through me. Losing that ability—even temporarily—felt like being stripped bare in a place that devoured the weak.
Sare didn't hesitate.
"That's fine," she said firmly. "You cleared most of one bone already. Three Venomclasps should be manageable for all of us."
I shook my head weakly. "Trace can't see right now."
"It's fine," Trace cut in immediately.
Her voice was steady—too steady. It scared me more than panic would have.
"You two lead me to the bone," she continued. "I'll wait while you clear the rest."
"If you get attacked while we're gone—" I tried to say, my chest tightening again as I struggled to pull in air. The image of her alone, blind, surrounded by monsters clawed at my mind. I barely managed to force the words past my lips.
Trace cut me off without hesitation.
"It's our only option."
The finality in her voice hit harder than any blow.
I looked at her then—really looked—and felt something twist painfully in my chest. Trust. Absolute and unyielding. She wasn't pretending this was safe. She wasn't naïve.
She was choosing it anyway.
And I nodded—because she was right, and because in the Hallow, survival demanded decisions that hurt worse than fear.
The sounds faded first.
Footsteps. Breathing. The faint scrape of steel against bone. One by one, they disappeared until only stillness remained.
Trace stayed where they left her.
She couldn't see the bone beneath her feet or the abyss below, but sight had never been what anchored her. She listened instead—to the wind cutting past her ears, to the subtle shift of weight through the ground, to the steady cadence of her own breath.
Slow. Measured.
If something approached, she would feel it.
If it attacked, she would respond.
Death didn't frighten her.
But it wasn't allowed to take her yet.
Not until she finished what she had come here to do.
She adjusted her stance, planting her feet with quiet certainty. Waiting wasn't surrender. It was preparation. Every second of stillness sharpened her resolve, narrowing the world down to what mattered.
I'll live long enough, she promised herself—not in defiance, not in desperation, but as a fact.
The bone creaked softly beneath her as she stood alone, listening to the dark, patient and unyielding, ready to move when the moment came.