The red glow from its stolen sai pulsed in time with the rise and fall of its chest, each beat sending a faint ripple across the wet stone. The plaza was quiet except for the slow drip from the broken fountain and the soft hum of Vireth at my side.
We stood maybe ten paces apart.
Me, breathing steady.
It, still… changing.
The thing's spine cracked once more into a straighter line. Its shoulders rolled back. Its head tilted, as if it were getting used to the idea of balance. The long, jagged limbs it used in the alleys now carried weight like it understood how to stand.
It shouldn't have looked that human.
I slid my foot back half a step, grounding myself. My fingers tightened on Vireth's hilt.
"Alright," I said quietly. "Let's see what you stole."
The Ravorn reacted to my voice like a spark to oil.
It lunged.
Its first movement was pure savagery—no stance, no guard, just a rush of claws and blades. It covered the distance between us in a blink, feet slamming into stone hard enough to crack it. One sai came down in a wild vertical arc aimed straight for my skull.
I stepped in.
Not back—in.
My shoulders turned. The blade howled past my cheek, close enough that the air stung. Vireth was already moving, a short, economical slash to bat the Ravorn's other arm aside. Our weapons clashed with a hard metallic crack, sparks spitting between us.
The Ravorn snarled in my face.
Up close, the stink of it was almost physical—rot tangled with that metallic tang of stolen energy. Its jaw trembled like it hadn't fully decided how to move yet. Its eyes glowed with that same deep red as the sai.
It tried to overpower me with raw force.
I dropped my weight, let the first sai slide past, then twisted my wrist and rolled Vireth under its second blade, redirecting its thrust away from my ribs. Its arm shot off-course, its own momentum dragging it forward.
Open.
I slammed my elbow up into its chest.
Bone crunched. The Ravorn staggered back two steps, claws scraping grooves into the stone. It looked down at its dented sternum as if surprised something dared hit it.
I didn't give it time to adjust.
I advanced.
Precision over fury. My feet moved in a tight pattern—step, pivot, cut the angle. Vireth flashed once, twice, three times in quick arcs. Not full swings. Small, targeted strikes meant to test it—to find out how that new body responded to pressure.
The Ravorn blocked the first.
Barely deflected the second.
The third carved a shallow line across its forearm, sending a spray of dark fluid to the ground.
It hissed. Not animal. Not human. Something warped between.
Then it did something Ravorns never do.
It spoke.
"...Be—" the voice stuttered, wrong and layered, like it was trying to force language through a throat that hadn't used it in years. "—Be… severed."
The words came out broken, but the intent was clear.
The sai in its right hand flared bright blue, light condensing along the blade. It slashed horizontally, and a wave of energy tore out from the arc—wide, fast, screaming toward me like a razor-thin crescent.
I planted my foot and swung Vireth up.
The impact rattled my arms. The crescent of blue smashed into my blade and shattered, fragments of light scattering, burning faint lines across the stone where they landed. The force skidded me back half a step.
Not just raw power.
That was technique.
That was an eidolon's art.
I exhaled slowly. "So that's how it is."
The Ravorn didn't wait.
It rushed in again, this time less reckless. Its movements still carried that jerky savagery, but there was a pattern now—short, sudden bursts of speed followed by feints it shouldn't have been capable of.
Left sai forward. Right sai low. Its feet slid across the wet stone in ugly but effective footwork, stealing space one step at a time.
I met it in the middle.
Steel collided in a rhythm that would've sounded almost clean if not for its breath—ragged, wet, vibrating with stolen voices. Every time our blades met, I let its strength roll past me instead of trying to meet it head-on. Letting it commit too far. Letting it overextend.
It slashed downward.
I sidestepped.
It twisted into an upward cut.
I leaned just outside the arc, Vireth tracing a tight line against its wrist as I moved. The blade nicked tendons; the Ravorn's fingers spasmed around the hilt, grip faltering for a fraction of a second.
My follow-up thrust went straight for its throat.
It jerked its head aside at the last instant. The tip of Vireth tore a line across its neck by punching through it. Dark ichor spilled over its collarbone. It snarled and shoved in close, using its greater size to try and smother my movement.
Claws raked for my side.
I pivoted, turned with the motion, let the clawed hand tear nothing but air where my ribs had been. My shoulder bumped its chest. I used that brief contact to map its center of balance.
Heavy forward.
Too aggressive.
Perfect.
I hooked my boot behind its ankle and yanked.
The Ravorn toppled sideways, one limb hitting the ground first and punching a crater into the stone. It caught itself with its other hand and flipped back to standing in a jerking, insect-like motion. Its resilience was ridiculous. Any normal creature would've stayed down longer.
It glared at me.
Then it spoke again.
"Be—pierced."
It thrust one sai toward me, and this time the blade launched a straight beam of blue light—a narrow spear that ripped through the air, fast and direct. No arc. No flourish. Just pure concentrated force.
I barely had time to twist out of the way.
The beam passed my shoulder and drilled straight through one of the far buildings, punching a neat, glowing hole through brick and disappearing into the dark.
The Ravorn tilted its head, as if pleased with the result.
"Yeah," I muttered under my breath. "Definitely Hunter work."
The way it called the attacks. The way the energy arranged itself. The names. Rough imitations, but too close to be coincidence.
It had eaten someone like me.
Someone who carried an eidolon, who used named techniques, who understood how to bend light and force into these controlled forms.
Now the Ravorn was copying it.
It came at me again.
This time, the fight turned vicious.
The Ravorn pressed harder, alternating between brutal physical swings and long-range bursts from its sai. Each time it barked a phrase, the air shifted.
"Be scattered—"
A cluster of smaller bolts sprayed from its swing, peppering the stone around me like shards of light.
"Be broken—"
A downward slash released a hammer-like wave that crashed against the ground, sending cracks spidering out in a circle.
Its control was rough. Unstable. Every attack held more power than precision. Like a child swinging around a weapon it barely understood, except the child had the strength to level buildings.
I answered with the opposite.
Tight parries. Minimal movement. Every dodge was a slip just outside the edge of its reach, never more. My blade traced lines that cut its attacks apart, redirecting force, shaving it down into something survivable.
A scattered burst of projectiles screamed toward me.
I stepped through them, Vireth batting aside the few that came too close, letting the rest smash into the plaza behind me. My boots found dry patches of stone on instinct, avoiding slick blood and water without needing to think about it.
We spun around each other in the open space, Ravorn vicious, me controlled. It used its size and strength to overwhelm; I used the emptiness of the plaza to keep my options open.
It thrust.
I pivoted.
It swung both sai downward in a crossed overhead strike, red energy crackling along the blades.
I met the crossing point with Vireth, catching both weapons on my single edge. The impact jarred all the way up my arms, but my stance held. Our faces were inches apart now.
Its eyes burned.
"Be…" it rasped again, breath hot and foul on my skin. "Be… erased."
Energy flared, gathering where our blades met.
I didn't wait to see what that attack would do.
I snapped my knee up into its abdomen.
The Ravorn gagged, the sound sharp and ugly. Its concentration flickered. I twisted Vireth, rolling its blades off mine and slipping sideways under its arm. As I moved, I dragged the edge of my sword across its ribs, cutting deep.
The Ravorn howled.
It spun, whirling both sai in a wide arc to keep me from stepping back in. I gave it the distance, circling, never letting my gaze leave its hands.
Every technique it copied cost it.
The red glow from the blades brightened each time it called a name, but I could see the strain pulling at its limbs. Its movements were getting sloppier at the edges, like the power inside it didn't quite fit.
I just had to outlast it.
"Come on," I said quietly. "Show me one more trick."
It bared its teeth. A warped, broken grin. Then it rushed me with everything it had.
The next exchange was faster.
The Ravorn's blades blurred in heavy, brutal combinations—horizontal sweeps, vertical cleaves, thrusts that aimed for gaps in my guard it shouldn't have been able to identify.
I met every strike.
Steel clashed against stolen light over and over, the sound ringing through the plaza. My shoulders burned. My wrists ached. I tuned it out. Beat by beat, angle by angle, I forced its attacks slightly off their intended lines, shaving off their killing edge.
"Be shredded—"
A flurry of overlapping arcs. I ducked low, feeling the energy pass just above my spine. The force of it ripped shallow furrows into the stone behind me.
"Be silenced—"
A compressing wave that tried to crush the sound out of the air itself. I slid aside, Vireth cutting a narrow route through the pressure as I moved.
The Ravorn's chest heaved now. Strands of drool and black fluid hung from its teeth. The red glow around its blades flickered, then surged again even brighter, as if something inside it refused to burn out.
Too strong. Too fast. Too much.
It wasn't built for this.
I, on the other hand, was.
It came in for one final rush, both sai lit up like twin red stars, point forward, body aligned for a straight killing thrust.
This one was different.
No extra flourish. No fancy technique name. Just a direct stab meant to end the fight.
I could've dodged.
Could've deflected. Redirected. Slipped past and cut it open again.
I didn't.
I inhaled.
Stepped forward.
And let the Ravorn drive one of its glowing sai straight into my side.
Pain exploded through my body—sharp, white-hot, tearing along my ribs and shoving the air out of my lungs. My vision flashed black for a heartbeat. Warmth spilled down my hip, soaking into my clothes.
The Ravorn froze.
Its eyes widened, the realization settling in slowly.
It had expected me to move. To resist. To fight the blade.
I did none of that.
I looked up at it instead.
It tried to wrench the sai deeper, twisting the blade inside me for more damage. My body screamed at the motion, but I held its gaze and, for the first time since the chase began, I smiled.
A low laugh broke out of my chest, rough and a little breathless. "There you go," I rasped. "You finally landed something."
Fear slid into its eyes.
Before it could tear the blade free, I closed my hand around the shaft of the sai where it jutted from my side.
Vireth hummed in my other hand.
I let my eidolon's power surge—not out, but inward. Into my arm. Into my grip. Into the point where metal and stolen energy met flesh.
Golden light crackled along my fingers.
The Ravorn's blades reacted instantly, their red glow flaring, then sputtering as if suffocating.
I squeezed.
The sai in my side shattered first, bursting into fragments of light that evaporated before they hit the ground. The other sai cracked down the middle in the Ravorn's hand, splitting into useless pieces that fell from its grip like broken glass.
The Ravorn staggered back, suddenly disarmed, eyes wild.
It tried to retreat.
I didn't let it.
I stepped in, ignoring the searing pain tearing through my torso. Blood soaked my shirt, dripped down to my boots, but the distance between us was small now. Small enough.
My free hand shot forward.
Fingers plunged into its chest, meeting resistance for half a second before punching through. Flesh, bone, whatever was left of its ribcage—it all gave way.
The Ravorn shrieked, a raw, distorted sound that echoed off the stone and the walls and whatever was listening beyond them.
My hand wrapped around something inside.
Its heart.
It didn't feel like any heart I'd ever touched. It was too cold, too dense, like holding a stone that pulsed. Black as tar, but lined with threads of color—veins of red and blue light crawling across its surface, fighting each other, twisting in constant motion.
The stolen power and the stolen souls all crammed into one organ.
"Found you," I whispered.
I ripped it out.
The Ravorn convulsed, limbs flaring wide, mouth opening in a silent scream as the connection between its body and its stolen core broke. Its eyes rolled back, the red glow flickering violently.
For a moment, it didn't fall.
It just hung there, like something frozen between this world and whatever waited after.
I looked down at the heart in my hand.
It pulsed once. Twice.
I crushed it.
The organ burst between my fingers, dissolving into a spray of dark dust and fading light. The red and blue flickers fought to stay alive for a second longer, then went still and sank into nothing.
The Ravorn dropped.
Its body hit the stone like a sack of dead meat. No twitch. No final spasm. Just stillness.
I stood there, breath ragged, hand dripping with whatever passed for its blood.
Then the pain finally caught up.
My legs buckled. I stumbled back and dropped to the ground, one hand clamped over the wound in my side where the broken sai had been, doing a poor job of slowing the bleeding.
The sky above Duskfall looked farther away from down here.
I let out a long, shaking sigh.
"It's done," I muttered, mostly to myself. "You're not… eating anyone else."
The plaza stayed quiet.
For a while, I just lay there, feeling each heartbeat as a flare of pain and relief tangled together. My vision blurred at the edges. The stone was cold against my back, stealing heat from me piece by piece.
Then I saw it.
At first I thought it was just my eyes going.
A faint light, hovering a few feet above the Ravorn's corpse. Then another. Then several more. Small, pale shapes, no bigger than lantern flames, drifting upward from the broken body.
Souls.
Not whole, not clear—but fragments. Traces of the people that thing had eaten. The light shimmered, weak but stubborn, as if unsure it had the right to exist anymore.
They floated there quietly.
Watching me.
"Yeah," I breathed out, forcing a small smile. "I see you."
My chest tightened—not from the wound this time. These weren't beasts or Hunters or predators. They were people who probably woke up this morning thinking they'd go home. People who never even saw the thing coming.
I swallowed.
"Don't just hover there," I said, voice low but firm. "You're free now. Go. Before something else in this place gets ideas."
The lights flickered gently, as if reacting to my words. One drifted a little closer, pausing over me like it wanted to say something.
"I did what I could," I sighed. "That's all I've got tonight. So hurry up and pass on, alright? No point sticking around a broken plaza with an idiot bleeding out on the ground."
One by one, the small lights began to rise.
Higher and higher, drifting toward the sky like lanterns released over dark water. Their glow softened as they went, thinning out until the night swallowed them.
I watched them for as long as my eyes would let me.
"Good," I whispered. "That's better."
The world started to tilt.
The sounds of Duskfall grew distant—water dripping, wind slipping through broken shutters, somewhere far away the hint of voices that had nothing to do with me right now.
My body felt heavier with each passing second.
"Just… a bit," I murmured, letting my eyes slip shut. "I'll… get up in a bit."
**
Isabella Solder
The house was too quiet.
Too still.
I pressed my back against the wall upstairs, chest tight, breath held somewhere high and painful beneath my ribs. Marissa crouched beside me, her hands over her mouth, eyes wide and wet. Dust floated in the dim moonlight dripping through the cracked window, suspended in the air like everything else in the house was holding its breath with us.
Below…
It paced.
Heavy steps. Slow. Dragging. Familiar in weight but wrong in rhythm. Each footfall shook the wooden floorboards like they were complaining.
Thud… thud… thud…
Marissa squeezed my sleeve when it stopped moving.
Neither of us dared breathe.
Then the voice came.
"Iiiiisaaaa…?"
Not Dagian's voice, not really. Just the shape of it. A stretched-out imitation, stuffed into something that didn't understand tone or pacing.
My stomach twisted.
The mimic had seen him. Followed him. Learned him. And now it was wearing his voice like a mask stretched too thin.
The thing shuffled closer to the stairs.
Marissa mouthed silently:
Don't move.
I nodded, forcing myself to stay still. Even a shift in weight might creak the floor, and the mimic listened too well.
Another voice came next.
Higher. Softer.
"Marissaaaa…? Where are you?"
This time it sounded like a child. A little boy calling out for a friend in the dark.
Marissa slapped a hand over her mouth to hide a sound. I grabbed her wrist, grounding her before she panicked and gave us away.
The mimic giggled—an awful, hiccuping sound made of breaths that didn't line up.
"Come play…"
Boards creaked at the base of the stairs.
It was climbing.
Shifting weight. Clawed fingers scraping the railing.
Slow at first, then faster. Almost excited.
Marissa and I crawled backward until our shoulders hit the wall. There was nowhere else to go. The upstairs landing only had three doors, and all of them were locked or stuck shut. We tried earlier. No running. No hiding.
Only waiting.
The mimic's steps reached the top of the stairs.
It quieted again.
Then—
A new voice.
One I knew too well.
My dad.
"So…bella…?"
Soft, warm, almost perfect.
My heart cracked open as the sound hit me. My dad's voice always did that—white hair, calm green eyes, gentle smile. He used to call me that every morning when I woke up for school.
Even now, even in this nightmare, my body wanted to answer him.
No. No. It's not him. It's not him. Don't move.
My hands trembled. I pressed them into the wall until the wood bit into my palms.
The mimic dragged its nails across the floor, drawing the sound out like it enjoyed the tension.
Then it tried another voice.
My mom's this time.
"Sweetheart…? Where'd you go?"
Bright. Kind. Blond hair always pulled back in a loose ponytail. The smell of popcorn on movie nights. The warmth of her hug after a bad day.
My throat tightened and tears instantly blurred my eyes.
Why was it using them?
It hadn't even met them.
But mimics didn't need to. They didn't copy people—they copied memories. Instinctively. Without understanding the weight of them.
I didn't realize I was shaking until Marissa touched my arm.
But before either of us could think of what to do—
The voice changed again.
And this time…
It used my own.
"Isabella… I'm scared… come help me…"
My entire body froze.
Hearing yourself from the mouth of something that wanted to kill you was worse than any nightmare.
Marissa's hand dropped from my sleeve.
She whispered, as softly as possible, "It's here."
Something shifted in the shadows at the end of the hallway.
Tall.
Wrong-shaped.
Limbs too long. Standing too still.
A twisted outline of Dagian's build… stretched thin, as if someone tried to copy him while forgetting half the details. Its eyes weren't eyes—just pale, reflective pits that stared through us, not at us.
I realized too late that it wasn't staring through us.
It was tracking our breath.
The faint white fog of it in the cold.
It sees the breath. It sees the heat. Oh God—
The mimic moved.
Too fast.
It slammed forward, grabbing Marissa by the throat before either of us could scream. She choked, feet kicking uselessly above the floor as its fingers dug into her skin.
"No—!" I lunged forward, but fear paralyzed halfway through the motion.
The mimic raised her higher, jaws opening far too wide, rows of thin teeth unfolding like blades. It pulled her close to its face as if smelling her before eating her whole.
Marissa clawed at its arm, tears streaming down her cheeks.
She was going to die.
Right here.
Right now.
My legs shook so hard I could hardly stand. My chest collapsed inward as reality hit all at once.
This was the world now.
Not my school.
Not movie nights with mom and dad.
Not warm kitchens and quiet mornings and easy homework and friends laughing in the hallways.
This world was teeth and blood and monsters that imitated the people you loved.
Tears spilled from my eyes before I could stop them.
I'm not ready. I'm not ready for any of this. I don't belong here. I never— I never asked for this—
My heart pounded so hard it hurt. Fear climbed up my throat and sat there like a stone.
But beneath the terror…
Beneath the shaking…
Something else stirred.
The same feeling I had in that alley weeks ago.
When the thugs cornered me.
When I froze.
When something deep inside me pushed back before my mind could.
A spark.
A pressure.
A warmth building inside my chest like a furnace waking up.
Ether.
I felt it rising—slow at first, then in a desperate surge.
My fingertips tingled.
My vision sharpened around the edges.
The world felt both closer and farther away.
Memories hit me like waves.
Sitting at my school desk, doodling in the margins.
Laughing with my friends until our stomachs hurt.
My mom braiding my hair too tight and apologizing with a snack.
My dad teaching me how to ride a bike while eating sunflower seeds.
Normal.
Simple.
Good.
That life felt like it belonged to someone else.
But that girl was still me.
And she didn't want to die here.
Didn't want Marissa to die here either.
The mimic opened its mouth wider.
Marissa's scream was choked and weak.
No.
Not like this.
The pressure inside me surged violently—
And then exploded outward.
A blinding light swallowed the hallway, bursting from behind my eyes, my hands, my chest — I couldn't tell where it came from, only that it wasn't subtle.
The mimic shrieked, dropping Marissa instantly as the light slammed into its face. It skidded back, hissing, limbs jerking, its false skin peeling away where the light had struck.
Marissa fell to the floor, coughing and crying.
The golden light poured off me in waves, brighter and brighter, until the whole hallway glowed like someone lit a sun inside the house. My breath came out shaky, but not from fear anymore.
From power.
The mimic reeled backward, limbs twitching violently as its false Dagian shape flickered like broken film. Its face—if you could call that warped, half-formed thing a face—twisted in agony as the light burned across it.
Its voice broke into fragments.
"No—no—no—"
Dagian's voice.
My dad's voice.
My mom's.
My own.
All layered.
All panicked.
Marissa crawled backward until she was pressed against the far wall, clutching her throat and staring at me like she didn't recognize who I was.
Honestly… I didn't recognize myself either.
The light didn't stop.
It circled my hands like golden smoke. Swirled up my arms like threads of fire. Every breath I took felt warm and sharp, like the air itself was filled with sparks waiting for me to tell them where to go.
The mimic tried to get up.
Tried to mimic Dagian's stance—one foot back, arms raised like it had watched him fight enough times to imitate his posture. But its joints shook. Its limbs bent wrong. It couldn't hold the shape.
I stepped forward.
Not shaky.
Not scared.
Just… moving.
Something deep in my chest guided me—like I'd always known how to fight, I just never had the reason to use it.
The mimic screeched and lunged.
Not at me.
At Marissa.
I didn't think.
I didn't hesitate.
I thrust my hand toward it, and a burst of golden light shot out—clean, sharp, fast. It hit the mimic square in the ribs, sending it flying sideways into the wall. Plaster cracked. Dust exploded outward.
The thing writhed, its torso smoking where the light had struck.
I looked down at my hand, trembling. "What… what am I…?"
The light pulsed in answer.
Warm.
Present.
Alive.
The mimic forced itself upright. Its shape destabilized, melting between fake faces as it tried desperately to find something—anything—that would scare me again.
It chose Dagian.
The outline reformed into his tall frame, his silhouette, his posture. But the details were wrong. The skin looked too tight. The eyes were pale. The mouth too wide.
"Isabellaaa…" it rasped in Dagian's copied voice.
"Don't you want to help me…?"
It stepped toward me.
"No," I said quietly, voice cracking but firm. "I'm done being scared."
Golden aura flared around my feet as I moved. I didn't run—I glided forward, faster than I thought I could move, my body responding like it had been waiting its whole life to act.
The mimic swung its arm at me, claws flashing in a wide arc.
I dodged—not with fear, but with instinct.
My knee bent, my body leaned, and the claws cut through nothing but air. As I passed under its arm, my hand brushed its side—
The golden light erupted.
A perfect circular blast tore through the mimic's torso, punching a hole clear through its ribs. The creature shrieked, spitting out a mess of stolen voices as it staggered back, collapsing onto one knee.
It tried to regenerate.
Its flesh quivered, reaching toward the edges of the wound.
But the light sizzled through the tissue, preventing it from knitting back together.
"Isabella…" it whispered in my mom's soft voice this time.
That hurt.
But it didn't stop me.
I walked forward, each step steadier than the last. The fear was still there, but it didn't control me anymore. It just… existed. A background noise behind something stronger.
The mimic crawled back, its fake face trembling.
It tried one more voice.
My own.
"Isabella… please… help me…"
The golden aura around me surged.
"That's not me," I whispered. "And I'm not helping you."
My hand rose again—this time not shaking.
Light gathered—swirling, compressing, folding around itself until a sphere of gold burned above my palm. It hummed softly, like it was alive. Like it understood me.
The mimic shrieked and scrambled backward, limbs flailing. It tried to stand. Tried to run. Tried to hide. But the hallway was too small, and I was already stepping into the center of it.
I didn't shout.
Didn't scream.
I just said the only words that came to me.
"Be gone."
The sphere of light burst forward.
Not a beam.
Not an explosion.
A wave.
Silent.
Clean.
Final.
The mimic vanished.
One moment a twisted monster wearing stolen faces — the next, nothing but fading dust drifting through the air like ash caught in a quiet breeze. The golden light around me pulsed once more… then dimmed. My breathing finally slowed.
And I realized…
I was still here.
Alive.
Standing.
And I had done that.
My eyes widened. My mouth dropped open. "OH my— OH my gosh—"
I looked down at my hands, turning them over like they belonged to someone else. The faint gold shimmer along my palms flickered and then blinked out entirely, leaving just… normal skin.
"I— I did that!" I gasped, a laugh bursting out of me in disbelief. "I actually did that! Oh my GOSH— I just— I just vaporized that thing!"
A nervous, overwhelmed giggle escaped before I could stop it. Then another. Then suddenly I was bouncing on the tips of my toes, squeezing my fists in excitement, practically glowing even without the Ether.
"I did it… I did it!"
I wasn't shaking anymore. I wasn't crying.
I felt—
"YES—!" I pumped my fist once, spinning in place. "Take that, you creepy— faceless— thing!"
A bit of dust fell from the ceiling as I startled myself with how loud I got.
I covered my mouth, shoulders shaking with a breathy laugh. "I can't believe that just happened— I actually— I actually used— whatever that was— and won. I—"
Then a small, strangled cough echoed behind me.
I froze.
My eyes snapped to Marissa—still on the floor, curled slightly, one hand on her bruised throat. All the air rushed out of me.
"Oh no— oh no, no— Marissa!"
I forgot everything else and scrambled across the floor on my hands and knees, nearly tripping over broken wood as I slid beside her.
"Marissa?! Hey— hey— are you okay? Can you hear me?"
My hands hovered uselessly over her shoulders, her face, her hair — not wanting to hurt her but desperate to check everything at once.
"Are you hurt? Did it scratch you? Did it— I'm so sorry— I didn't move fast enough— I should've— I didn't— oh God, Marissa— Marissa— please say something—"
She finally lifted her head.
Her face was streaked with tears, eyes red, breathing shaky — but she was alive. She blinked up at me, then gave the tiniest smile, raising her trembling hand to wipe her cheeks.
"I-Isabella…" she croaked, voice hoarse from being grabbed by the throat. "I'm— I'm okay."
I felt a sob break out of my chest, half relief, half leftover fear. "You're okay? Are you sure? Marissa, you scared me so bad— I thought— I thought—"
She nodded quickly, wiping her tears again with the back of her wrist. "It's thanks to you," she whispered. "I'm okay… because of you."
I covered my mouth again, choking on a breath as the weight of everything finally hit me.
She smiled — soft, shaky, real.
"You saved me."
And for the first time since the nightmare started… I let myself believe it.
The house trembled.
I felt it first through my hands on the floorboards — a low vibration, like something enormous dragging its weight across the earth. Marissa and I froze at the same time, eyes wide, breaths held without even meaning to.
Then the roar hit.
A thunderous, earth-splitting howl tore through the walls, rattling the windows in their frames. It didn't sound like an animal. Or a monster. Or anything I'd ever heard in my life.
It sounded ancient.
Wrong.
Alive in the kind of way nightmares were.
Marissa grabbed my arm again, harder this time. "I-Isabella… what was that?"
My throat tightened. I shook my head slowly. "I… I don't know."
The golden warmth inside me flickered, shrinking in fear as the roar faded into the night. My skin crawled like something enormous had brushed against the edge of the world and kept walking.
Another tremor rolled under us.
Marissa whimpered. "Isabella, something else is out there…"
My heartbeat hammered against my ribs. "Yeah." I swallowed. "Something big."
**
Dagian
Pain dragged me awake before my eyes even opened.
Every breath was a dull burn, my side throbbing where that thing stabbed me. The stone beneath me was cold. Too cold. But the cold wasn't what pulled me upright.
It was the roar.
Deep. Massive. So loud it felt like the air itself shook.
I pushed myself up, gritting my teeth as pain exploded across my torso. My vision spun once, twice — then steadied as I looked toward the horizon.
And froze.
Near the pit…
A shape emerged.
A giant silhouette stepped out from the darkness, towering higher and higher until it blotted out the ruined rooftops. A long, shadow-shrouded body, limbs stretched impossibly thin, its skin like thick black smoke. Two distant white eyes glowed through the haze like lanterns hung in nothing.
It was at least five hundred feet tall.
Moving.
Breathing.
My mouth went dry.
"That's…" My words caught in my throat as a cold spike of dread shot through me.
"That's not possible."
My chest tightened.
"How did an Imgrel get out…"