They felt it before it happened.
The chain tightened—not as a warning, but as a pull.
"Don't move," he said quietly.
She froze instantly, every muscle locking in place. Her breathing slowed by instinct now, controlled and deliberate. She could feel the system shifting around them, recalibrating—not curious anymore.
Focused.
The air grew heavy.
Somewhere to their left, the ground crunched.
Once.
Twice.
Footsteps.
Not rushed.
Not cautious.
Intentional.
"They're close," she whispered.
"Yes," he replied. "And they're not scouts."
The chain pulsed once, sharp and unmistakable.
Hunters.
From between the shattered stone spires ahead, figures emerged—three at first, then more, spreading out with practiced precision. Their armor was pale, etched with sigils that glowed faintly as they moved. No banners. No insignia of allegiance.
They didn't need them.
Each carried a device instead of a weapon—metallic frames threaded with crystal veins, humming softly as they aligned toward her.
Her stomach dropped.
"They're not aiming at you," she said.
"No," he agreed. "They're measuring you."
The leader stepped forward, visor reflecting the dull gray sky. Their voice carried easily across the distance, amplified by magic rather than volume.
"Anomaly confirmed," they announced. "Secondary variable verified."
Her heart pounded, but she kept her stance steady.
"This is an enforcement unit," he murmured. "They don't negotiate."
The hunters spread wider, closing the circle.
The chain tightened again—this time, restless.
"They want a reaction," she said, understanding dawning. "If I panic—"
"They'll have data," he finished.
The leader raised a hand.
The devices flared to life.
The pressure hit her like a wall.
Her vision blurred as the chain flared violently, heat racing up her arm. She bit back a cry, dropping to one knee as the force pressed down on her thoughts, her emotions—trying to provoke, to destabilize.
Beside her, he staggered.
The chains around his arms blazed, pulling tight as his body resisted containment protocols long dormant.
"No," she whispered fiercely. Not like this.
She forced herself upright, every instinct screaming at her to run, to do something.
But she didn't.
She breathed.
Anchored herself.
"I am stable," she said aloud, voice shaking but steady enough. "I choose alignment."
The pressure faltered.
The hunters paused.
Data streamed across the devices, light patterns shifting rapidly.
"Adjustment detected," one of them said.
The leader tilted their head. "Increase stimulus."
The pressure doubled.
Her knees threatened to give out again as a wave of fear surged—sharp, visceral, uncontrollable.
The chain screamed.
He cried out, dropping to one knee as the chains tore into flesh, blood dark against metal.
"Stop—!" she shouted, panic spiking—
Too late.
The system reacted.
The ground between them and the hunters fractured violently, a shockwave ripping outward as the curse surged defensively. Stone shattered. The hunters were thrown back, their formation breaking as alarms flared across their devices.
Silence followed—thick and ringing.
Smoke and dust filled the air.
She was shaking now, breath ragged, terror crashing through her restraint.
He was on the ground.
Bleeding.
"Oh gods—" She rushed to his side, dropping beside him without thinking, hands hovering desperately. "I didn't mean to—I tried—I swear I tried—"
The chain reacted sharply—then stilled.
Not tightening.
Stabilizing.
She froze.
Slowly, carefully, she placed her hand against his shoulder.
The chains loosened fractionally.
His breathing steadied.
Her chest heaved as realization hit her fully.
"They weren't just testing me," she whispered. "They were trying to make me break you."
"Yes," he said hoarsely. "Because that would justify escalation."
Movement stirred in the smoke.
The hunters were recovering.
"We can't stay," she said urgently.
He grimaced, forcing himself upright despite the pain. "Agreed."
"But they'll follow," she said. "They know now."
"Yes," he replied. "Which means we stop running blindly."
She looked at him, heart hammering. "What are you saying?"
He met her gaze, bloodied but resolute.
"We choose where the next test happens," he said. "Not them."
The chain pulsed—low, approving.
They moved quickly, retreating into a maze of collapsed stone and ravines that fractured the plain. Behind them, the hunters regrouped with terrifying efficiency, their devices already recalibrating.
As they ran, she felt it clearly now.
The curse was no longer passive.
It was responding—to her choices.
And the world had noticed.