Warhound, deep asleep, twisted and turned as Pin tried her best to wake him. She shook his shoulder, tapped his cheek, even whispered his name urgently, but nothing she did worked.
His sleep was too heavy, almost unnatural, as if his mind refused to surface. Growing desperate, Pin glanced around the dim room until her eyes landed on the small pot of water Warhound had left heading up earlier.
She hesitated only one second before dipping her fingers into the now-hot water and flicking some at him. When that failed, she mustered her courage… dipping one of his fingers into the pot.
The sudden sting jolted him awake.
Warhound shot up with a gasp, hand recoiling. He glared at her, ready to scold her until he saw the expression on her face. No mischief, no stubbornness, just pure fear. That alone snapped him fully awake.
"What happened?" he muttered, voice low but alert. Pin swallowed, wringing her hands. "I… I heard loud noises outside. Screaming. And something else, something heavy. Like the people outside needed help."
Warhound's jaw tightened. He got up immediately, stepping over the blankets and grabbing a weapon before moving towards the window. He pushed aside the broken blinds just enough to peer through.
His eyes widened.
The village outside was drenched in chaos. Shadows moving unnaturally, bodies scattered across the ground, and structures set-up for the festival smashed to pieces. Even from the broken sliver of a view, it was unmistakable.
Slaughter.
For a split second, the sight pulled him backwards. Far away from the village, back into the caverns, where he had walked past the bodies he had slaughtered, drenched in blood that clung to his fur.
His grip on the blinds tightened.
Crack–
The makeshift weapon he had in his hand, a bent metal pipe, snapped under how hard he had been unknowingly squeezing it. The sound jarred him back to reality. Warhound stepped away from the window, clicking his tongue in frustration.
"Tch… damn it."
He didn't waste another moment. He marched down the narrow hallway, past Pin, toward the storage room. Pin followed, confused and terrified. He threw open the old storage box with so much force the lid slammed back against the wall.
Inside, his traveling bag.
He dragged it out onto the floor and ripped it open. Pin watched as he tore through its contents in frantic, uneven motions. Dull knives. Cloth strips. Rusted fragments of tools and metal.
Every useless item he tossed aside made his movements rougher, more desperate. "Warhound…?" Pin whispered from the doorway. He ignored her, until his hand brushed against something hard, wrapped in old canvas.
Another scream erupted from the village. Closer this time, high-pitched at first, then cut short by a horrible wet crack.
Pin flinched violently. Her breath hitched. "Sh-should… we hide?"
He stopped moving after hearing her words.
Hide.
He had hidden before, he still is, but he wasn't going to this time.
"No," he said firmly. "Why would we need to?"
Pin's eyes welled with tears. "Then… then what was that?"
Her trembling voice, small and afraid, forced Warhound to steady his breathing. He went back to the bag, but this time with slower, more deliberate movements. His hands sifted through the scattered bits of metal, copper wiring, and scraps he had thrown aside earlier.
He wasn't searching blindly anymore.
He was assembling.
Piece by piece he pulled out tiny components he had hidden throughout the bag. A carved firing pin, a short barrel, a compact frame, all wrapped separately in cloth to avoid clinking together.
A weapon too small to draw attention. Too improvised to be considered a crime. Sanded, filed, and carefully shaped during nights when he couldn't sleep. It was a pistol, makeshift but functional.
"The festival you wanted to see so much?" he said, forcing a smile. "Looks like it's been cancelled." Pin blinked. "Cancelled? But… why? Everyone outside sounded scared…"
"That's what happens when people come from far away." Warhound lied smoothly, fitting a spring into place without looking. "They get angry when plans fall apart. All those tourists shouting because it ended early."
Pin deflated a little, shoulders sinking. "Oh… I see."
A click echoed as the pistol frame locked together. Pin looked up again, hopeful despite the chaos outside. "Then… maybe next time? When they hold another festival… can we go?"
Warhound paused. The gun half-assembled in his hands. For a heartbeat, the lie hurt more than the truth. Then he snapped the slide into place, chambered a single round, and nodded.
"I promise," he said. "Next time."
He finished cocking the weapon with a quiet metallic snap. Then he crouched down to Pin's height and kept his tone light, almost casual. "Now go get your things. We're heading out soon. If we leave later, we'll have to deal with a huge crowd of tourists. Trust me, you don't want to get stuck with them."
Pin nodded quickly and hurried down the hall to gather her tiny pack. Only once she was gone did Warhound's expression fall back into its grim shape. He pulled out the wrinkled village map, creases so worn they threatened to tear.
He spread it across the floor, placing the pistol on one corner to keep it flat. His eyes moved fast, tracing routes, alleys, dead ends. Main roads were out, too many bodies, too many open spaces.
He plotted a route that twisted behind houses, skirted through a narrow drainage path, then cut through a small tool shed area. Not the fastest, but the safest. The option that would force Pin to see the least.
I'll carry her if I have to
He folded the map, slipped it into his jacket, and checked the pistol one more time. By that time, the screams outside had stopped, meaning only one thing.
The monster wasn't nearby anymore.
And it was searching for more.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Iyu tried to reason it out as they walked, despite the blood-slick ground squishing under their footsteps. His small voice bounced nervously between the walls of the ruined street, filling the silence Pheo refused to acknowledge.
Every few steps, Iyu offered another theory. Maybe the shield malfunctioned, maybe something exploded, maybe the festival machinery fell, maybe bandits attacked, maybe–
But Pheo wasn't listening.
Not really.
His eyes kept catching on the red smears dragged across the dirt. The still-warm footprints filled with darkening blood. The crushed stalls. The bodies. Every sight pulled him back to the caverns.
The stale air, the rows of corpses he had been forced to step over, to the part of himself where when he saw it all, he felt nothing.
Why now?
Why fear now, when that place never made him flinch? Was it because he was no longer protected by someone, because he was alone? Was it because he had tasted freedom just long enough to realize he didn't want to die?
Or was it something deeper, something broken inside him finally waking?
He didn't know.
And he hated not knowing.
A hand tugged on his sleeve.
"Hey, hey! Which way?" Iyu asked, pointing at the split in the road where three streets met. Pheo blinked, dragged back into the moment. He hesitated only for a breath before choosing the path on the right, the road that curved toward the hotel.
The hotel had someone he was sure could help them from whatever mess they were in right now, Anora. She was probably already awake, preparing and waiting for him. Her strong and controlled actions would surely be of help.
If anything could stop whatever was loose in this village, it would be her.
"We're heading to the hotel," Pheo said, voice firmer than he felt. Iyu nodded immediately, as if the decision had confirmed something for him. In truth, it had. To Iyu, the hotel was also a place where someone else he knew was.
His father, someone he knew was powerful enough to help.
The two of them pushed forward, stepping through sticky patches of blood that clung to their shoes, passing toppled lanterns still flickering with the last remnants of festival light.
They tried to talk to each other as they kept going, weaving through alleys streaked with blood and overturned debris. At first, the conversation was only to distract themselves from the silence, becoming a way to keep their minds from spiraling.
To distract them both, Iyu started talking. Half to Pheo, half to keep himself from panicking. "You know… if the people I came with were here, this would've been a lot easier."
Pheo glanced at him. "The people you came with?"
"Yeah," Iyu nodded, hesitating. "Theres two of them. One's kind of… strict? The other's really strong. Like, ridiculously strong. But I'm not supposed to go around saying their names to strangers."
He shot Pheo a sideways look, as if gauging how much he could trust him. Pheo snorted lightly. "Fair enough. I guess I shouldn't say names either. But I came here with someone too."
"Someone who could handle all of this way better than I can." His expression softened when he added, "She saved me. A lot."
"Oh." Iyu's voice perked up at the pronoun. "So they're the strong one?" Pheo nodded. "Strongest person I know. Doesn't look like it at first glance, but… you'd want to be on her side."
He looked away for a moment, thinking. "If she knew I went running off by myself during all this, she'd probably hit me on the head." Iyu grinned. "That sounds like someone I know."
"He'll lecture me for hours if he finds out I wandered off." Pheo raised a brow. "Lecture? Mine's more of a death glare followed by threats." Iyu shook his head. "No, no, this one's more like:"
"Why didn't you think first? Do you know how dangerous that was? Then the other guy, uh, the stronger one, he'd just pat my head and say something cryptic like he already expected everything to happen."
Pheo blinked. "Two people look after you?"
"I mean… yeah. Kind of." Iyu looked down, kicking a small stone aside. "They're both annoying, and I kind of look after one of them more than they look after me, but they're family, so…"
Pheo didn't reply at first. Something about the word "family" sank into him harder than he expected. The cavern flashed through his mind again. The silence, the bodies, his numbness.
Then his chest tightened. Not from fear, but something unfamiliar. Longing? He wasn't sure. To distract himself, he said, "Well… the person I'm looking for isn't family. She's more like… someone who dragged me out of a bad place and told me to stop dying so easily."
Iyu snorted. "Sounds like a weird way to show affection."
"Yeah," Pheo replied, though a small smile flickered. "But it was the first time anyone said they wanted me to survive." For a moment, neither spoke. The ruined street stretched ahead, silent except for their footsteps and the faint crackle of still-burning debris.
Their guardedness became a quiet, mutual agreement. Share what helps, but nothing that exposes too much. When the topic shifted to the blue dome, Pheo's expression changed.
"I've only ever heard of it," he said, keeping his voice low as they rounded a corner. "A story, really. Something about a barrier protecting the village that no one could crack." Iyu perked up at that. "So you do know something. How strong is it supposed to be?"
Pheo shook his head. "Not much more than that. Just that it was meant to keep everything out from getting in. Built so that even hundreds of people wouldn't make a single dent."
Iyu frowned, replacing his earlier attempt to poke and prod at the strange surface. "I was up close. A normal impact wouldn't even make it shake. I don't think breaking through is an option."
"Then whoever put it up either wanted everyone inside to stay inside," Pheo said. "Or for something outside to stay out." Neither of them said the obvious, because both of them knew that something had already gotten in.
As they talked, the road ahead widened, giving them a clearer view of the district that housed the hotel. Iyu's pace quickened unconsciously, his father had gone this way, after all. Meanwhile, Pheo scanned every rooftop and corner, following shadows like they were clues.
For different reasons, they were both headed toward the same thought. Find the strongest person they know. They continued toward the hotel, walking straight into whatever awaited them next.