Sare and I crouched slowly atop the rib, careful not to make a sound, leaving Trace behind on the ground below. The bone stretched wide beneath us—so vast that falling wasn't a concern. It was thick, ancient, and unnervingly sturdy, like it had survived countless things that should have broken it.
My head throbbed violently.
It wasn't just pain—it felt like someone was hammering from the inside, each pulse striking harder than the last, like a door being beaten down and my mind trapped behind it. Shadow Dive had taken its toll. I could feel it now, unmistakably—the mental strain, the lingering pull, the way my thoughts slipped when I tried to focus.
That was on top of the injuries that hadn't fully healed. On top of lungs that burned and screamed with every breath, sharp enough that it felt like knives were sinking into my chest each time I inhaled.
"Asher—what's wrong?"
Sare's voice cut through the thunder, low but urgent. Loud enough that only I could hear it. Loud enough to matter.
"Nothing," I said immediately, teeth clenched as I forced the word out. I kept my eyes forward, fixed on the dark shapes clinging to the bones ahead. Venomclasps. That was all that mattered.
Sare didn't respond right away.
Then—quiet, steady, and far more dangerous than panic—she said,
"I can see your lifeforce."
My stomach tightened.
"It's weak," she continued. "Dangerously so. Asher… you could drop dead from a single clean hit."
Shit.
With my mind clouded and my senses dulled, I'd forgotten—forgotten that she could see it all. The strain. The damage. The slow collapse I was pretending wasn't happening.
"We should regroup with Trace," Sare said. "You won't hold much longer."
"No."
The word came out rough, torn from my throat along with another shallow breath. My lungs protested violently, but I forced myself upright, forced my voice to steady despite the tremor creeping through it.
"If we try to fight through the night," I said, quieter now but firm, "we'll die."
The truth sat heavy between us.
Thunder rolled again overhead, and beneath it, the forest waited—patient, crowded with things that would gladly finish what my body had already started.
I wasn't giving in.
But I was done pretending I could push further.
"Sare—wait," I said quietly. "I'll let my shadow scout ahead. If we move blind, we won't last."
Before she could respond, I willed the shadow forward. It peeled away from me and sank into the bony ground, slipping between cracks and hollows like ink poured into fractures. Just before it vanished completely, it turned back and nodded—sharp and aggressive.
I exhaled.
A small smile tugged at my lips, barely there. The kind that only existed because something, anything, had gone right. It let a fraction of the tension drain from my chest.
We waited.
Sare reached behind her and drew her spear, the metal catching a brief flash of lightning.
"I'll lead the assault," she said calmly. "I won't argue the retreat—you're right. But it's better if I'm in front."
I looked at her, my shoulders sagging slightly as the weight of the decision settled in. The thought of her taking that position twisted something in my gut.
"…Okay," I said at last.
The shadow returned moments later, rising from the ground in front of us. It raised three fingers, then rotated its hand in a slow, deliberate circle.
"Damn it," I muttered.
"What did it find?" Sare asked, already adjusting her grip.
"They're rotating," I said. "Watching each other's blind spots. No opening. No surprise attack."
Silence stretched for a heartbeat.
"That's bad," Sare said softly. "You can't enter the Shadow Realm anymore."
"I know."
"Then listen," she said, cutting me off before I could say anything else. Her voice was steady—decisive. "We fight. I'll use paralysis. You kill the one that stops moving. I'll keep the others occupied, then we repeat until they're all dead."
The plan was clean. Efficient.
And terrifying.
I swallowed, then gave a single nod. There was no better option.
I reached inward and called the shadow back—not to scout, not to shield, but to merge. It flowed into me in an instant, and the surge of strength slammed through my body like a shockwave.
Pain followed immediately.
My vision blurred, my teeth clenched as I staggered, the sudden weight of borrowed power grinding against everything already broken inside me. It felt wrong—forced—like my body was screaming that it didn't have room for this.
I steadied myself, breathing hard.
Then I looked at Sare and nodded again—this time without hesitation.
We were past planning.
Sare moved first.
She lunged, spear flashing as it drove toward a Venomclasp's core—but another intercepted it, a jagged pincer snapping sideways and knocking the thrust off course with a screech of chitin on metal.
I reacted on instinct.
Midnight came down in a hard arc toward the Venomclasp that had been lining up behind her—too close—but the impact rang wrong the moment it connected. The creature deflected the strike, its armored limb absorbing the force and throwing me backward.
I staggered, boots scraping across bone.
A pincer shot toward me—fast. Too fast.
Before I could raise Midnight, my shadow tore free from my body and slammed into the Venomclasp, tackling it off balance. It hit the ground in a tangle of limbs, screeching in fury, and my shadow dove back into me just as quickly, the re-merge sending a jolt of pain up my spine.
Thank you, I thought, breath ragged.
Sare was already moving again.
She weaved between the remaining two Venomclasps, her steps precise but strained. Lightning flashed overhead, thunder cracking so close it rattled my teeth. I could see it now—her senses dulled by the storm. Her movements weren't as fluid, her strikes not as exact.
The Venomclasp my shadow had tackled was already pushing itself back up.
I didn't have time.
A memory surged unbidden—steel ringing against steel, the brutal imbalance of my fight with the knight. How one-sided it had been. How utterly outmatched I'd felt.
And then the realization struck.
My Knight.
I reached inward, past the pain, past the exhaustion, and called to it through my soul.
The response hurt.
It felt like something was being torn loose inside me as the Echo emerged, interposing itself just in time to block an incoming strike meant for my head. The Venomclasp's pincer slammed into the knight's blade with a force that would've crushed me.
"Help her," I commanded through clenched teeth. "Get her a clean strike. Then come back and take over here."
The knight didn't hesitate.
It turned and charged, steel flashing as it moved to Sare's side.
I was alone again.
That was fine.
I just had to last.
The Venomclasp lunged.
I rolled, barely clearing the swipe as the pincer carved sparks from the bone where my head had been a heartbeat earlier. I couldn't block—not anymore. Every impact sent shockwaves through my already-weakened body, threatening to drop me where I stood.
I was slower.
Weaker.
Which meant I couldn't afford mistakes.
Every movement had to be perfect. Every breath timed. Every dodge instinctual.
I steadied myself as the creature turned to face me again, Midnight held low, my muscles screaming in protest.
Just stall, I told myself.
Just don't die.
Thunder roared overhead, and the Venomclasp struck again.