The smoke thinned just enough for me to see the monster I had wounded.
The Imgrel did not fall.
It stood there—titanic, shaking, burning—steam rising from the molten crescent carved into its chest. The slash I had given it glowed like a searing brand across. The creature's enormous head tilted slightly, as if adjusting to the pain, as if testing the limits of what it could still do.
And the worst part?
It grinned.
A deep, cracked split formed across its mask-like face, widening into a jagged, unnatural smile. Its mouth wasn't supposed to be there—wasn't supposed to exist—but it stretched wider with each pulse of molten light, as though the pain I inflicted only excited it.
I swallowed hard, Vireth humming in my trembling hand.
Every instinct screamed at me to back up, to get behind cover, to run.
But I did the opposite.
I stepped forward.
The dust around me swirled in slow eddies from the heat radiating off the creature. The ground under the Imgrel sizzled in small red cracks, each shift of its massive form fracturing the earth. Its body towered high above the ruined district, filling the entire skyline.
A shadow fell over me as it moved.
One step.
BOOM.
The crater beneath its foot blasted outward with enough force to send chunks of rock skidding across the ground.
Two steps.
BOOM.
The shockwave blew hot wind into my face and knocked loose stone from nearby rooftops.
My grip tightened on Vireth.
Then the Imgrel bent its legs and something in my spine stiffened—a warning I didn't fully understand.
It was about to attack.
I threw myself sideways just as the monster slammed its fist into the ground where I had been standing.
CRACK—BOOOOM!
The impact split the earth in a straight line, hurling debris skyward like a volcanic eruption. A blast of heat punched through my chest, flipping me over as the ground rippled beneath me. The explosion sent dust in choking waves over the streets.
I rolled across broken tile, my ribs screaming as the old wound tore again. I pressed a hand to my side. Warmth spread across my palm—blood again.
Not now.
A metallic groan cut through the dust as the Imgrel lifted its huge arm, dragging its claws across the cracked pavement. Sparks shot from the ground.
It wasn't finished.
It wasn't even slowed.
I barely had time to regain my footing before the Imgrel lunged—not fast, but sudden—slamming its forearm across the street in a massive sweep.
I dove under it.
The ground shook as the arm collided with a row of destroyed buildings. Walls collapsed behind me. Dust swallowed the air again.
I coughed, stumbled, and kept moving.
The Imgrel reeled its arm back, dragging debris with it like a fisherman dragging nets filled with stone and wood. Its mask-face cracked further as it leaned forward, the split mouth widening.
"You're… kidding me," I muttered between shaky breaths. "That's you smiling?"
The creature's chest pulsed in response, glowing with the same red-molten energy leaking from its wounds. The air warped around its torso.
It wasn't smiling.
It was excited.
The monster lifted its other arm—the uninjured one—and swung downward in a brutal arc.
The force of its descent bent the air around the blow.
I raised Vireth.
The impact came like a mountain falling on top of me.
CLAAAAAAAAANG—!
Golden sparks exploded outward. My knees buckled. My boots slid several feet backward, carving two long tracks into the dirt. Every muscle in my arms screamed as I held Vireth overhead, the blade vibrating violently from the force.
The Imgrel's entire body leaned into the strike, pushing me downward. The ground beneath me cracked in spiderweb patterns.
"Ghh—!"
I forced Vireth upward, releasing a burst of golden force. The energy shot up the scythe's shaft, slicing between the Imgrel's fingers.
The blow deflected—just enough to make the monster recoil.
Not much.
I staggered back, gasping.
The Imgrel straightened to its full height, the molten crescent across its face dripping red-hot cracks down its jaw. It raised its injured arm next—the one I had slashed earlier. The limb twitched unnaturally, like it was jerking in pain or trying to understand how to move.
Then it swung that arm too.
Not in a punch.
Not in a swipe.
It swung it like a man flailing an injured limb—wild, unpredictable, but unbelievably strong.
The arm slammed into the street and shattered a row of pillars that had once held part of a bridge. The collapse threw dust and stone chunks into the air.
I darted forward, using the moment of imbalance.
My boots slammed into the rubble as I sprinted toward the arm.
The Imgrel twisted its head down, its single, glowing eye-line narrowing. It realized where I was going.
It tried to yank its arm away.
Too slow.
I leapt onto the limb just as it lifted, fingers scraping for footing in the glowing cracks in its arm. The stone-like skin was hot—almost scalding—but not enough to stop me.
It roared—a sound like a storm ripping through steel.
I ran.
My feet thudded against the uneven terrain of its massive limb. Vireth hummed in my grip, the golden glow returning to the blade as that strange power surged through my veins again.
One slash.
A glowing arc burnt deeper into the arm.
Two slashes.
Another arc. Sparks flew into my face.
Three.
Four.
Five.
The Imgrel screeched and thrashed. Its injured hand clenched and opened spasmodically, as if its muscles couldn't understand what was happening. It twisted its torso sharply, trying to shake me off.
I stumbled once, nearly slipping off the molten ridge. My hand reached out, fingers digging into a deep crack.
The monster lifted its other hand—its uninjured one—and swatted toward its forearm like a man trying to crush a spider.
Move—MOVE!
I pushed off with everything I had and launched myself up the arm and toward the shoulder.
The Imgrel's hand passed under me, missing by inches.
Wind ripped across my face, hot enough to sear.
I landed near the joint of the creature's shoulder as it leaned back and roared in pure rage. The roar shook the rooftops. Loose tiles fell like rain around us.
Its body trembled, molten cracks reverberating with each furious pulse.
It swung again, its massive forearm rising to slam back down.
Before it could—
I jumped.
Up into the air.
Above the shoulder.
Above the creature.
Wind rushed past me as the world slowed.
The entire ruined district spread beneath me like the aftermath of an earthquake. Fires flickered in shattered alleyways. Hunters watched with wide, terrified eyes. A few were yelling for me to stop. Others shouted my name.
My vision tightened.
Only the Imgrel mattered.
Only its face.
The molten crescent glowing across its mask.
Vireth pulsed in my hand, resonating with heat and light. The foreign power inside me surged—stronger than before, sharper. My vision lit with gold specks. My muscles tensed with strength I didn't recognize.
"Just fall—"My voice came out as a hoarse whisper."—already!"
I lifted Vireth over my shoulder.
The blade of the scythe blazed alive, brighter than fire, brighter than molten stone, brighter than the crescent carved into the Imgrel's face.
It wasn't just glowing—it was roaring.
I swung.
A massive crescent of golden energy—sharper, heavier, larger than anything I'd released—tore across the sky.
It curved downward like the moon descending in a blazing arc. The air cracked under its weight, heat rippling outward.
The Imgrel looked up.
The crescent struck its face with a blinding flash.
KRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAK!
The mask split.
Shards of stone-like armor flew across the battlefield. Molten cracks erupted in chaotic patterns across its skull.
The shockwave blasted outward, flattening what remained of several buildings. The force kicked me backward mid-air, sending me tumbling with the debris.
**
I don't remember the exact moment the power left.
I just remember the ground.
I hit it hard enough that everything inside me lurched in different directions. My head snapped sideways, my ribs screamed, and for a second I was pretty sure the world had folded in half.
Then it all went quiet.
Not really quiet.
The kind of quiet where all the loudest sounds are inside your skull.
A high, thin ringing fills my ears. My vision flickers white, then gray, then comes back in pieces—dust drifting past, the crooked outline of a shattered wall, something burning somewhere too far away to matter.
I try to move my fingers.
They twitch.
I try to close my hand.
Nothing.
Vireth is gone. I don't know when I lost it. I can't feel its weight anymore. My palm feels empty in a way that has nothing to do with bone and muscle.
I try to breathe.
Air drags in, ragged and sharp. Something tears in my side. Warmth spills under my ribs. Every breath feels like a knife turning.
I stare up at the sky, blinking slowly.
No one's here.
No one's calling my name.
No one's pulling me to my feet, yelling at me for being reckless, telling me I did enough.
It's just me.
Me and the ringing in my ears and the taste of dust on my tongue.
And the shadow.
I don't see it right away, but I feel it.
The pressure rolls over me like a wave before I lift my eyes enough to see it.
The Imgrel.
Still standing.
Still towering.
Still alive.
Through the shifting curtain of dust, I can just make out its shape. The crescent I carved into its face burns molten red, splitting the mask open like a cracked shell. Part of its upper armor is gone now, fragments glowing in scattered heaps across the broken street.
It should be dead.
It's not.
It shifts its weight and the ground shivers. A chunk of stone rolls against my arm. I don't flinch. I'm not sure I can.
I told myself I'd reach them.
I told myself I wouldn't be like him.
That I wouldn't leave them alone.
Now I'm on my back staring at a monster I failed to kill, while somewhere behind the ruined streets and broken walls, my mother and Isabella are—
I clamp my eyes shut.
Don't think that.
A tremor shakes the ground again. Louder now. Closer.
My ears pick up something under the ringing—distant shouts, maybe. Orders. Someone screaming. It all sounds far away, like it's happening at the end of a long tunnel.
I try to roll over.
My muscles don't listen.
My right arm shifts an inch and immediately gives up. Pain spikes through my ribs and clamps down on my lungs until I'm left gasping like a fish on dry stone.
I cough. Something wet and metallic hits my tongue.
Blood.
"Great…" I whisper, voice barely a scrape.
I let my head fall back.
The sky's a mess of smoke and red.
My vision wavers at the edges.
I wonder, stupidly, if this is how it felt for him.
For my father.
Lying somewhere alone. During the Blood Hunt. Knowing he could die, knowing it could be his last few moments. Knowing he wasn't there to prot—
No.
I grit my teeth.
Even now, with my body refusing to move, I feel anger crawl up under my skin at the thought of him.
"I'm… not you," I breathe, barely any sound.
Did I put up a good fight?
Does that matter if I still lost?
The Imgrel moves again.
The shadow over me deepens. Dust ripples across the ground around my body, sucked gently forward. The air feels thinner, like something is pulling it away from my lungs.
I don't need to see its chest to know what it's doing.
It's building the void again.
Going to wipe us away in one hit.
The ringing in my ears starts to fade, replaced by more distinct sounds now:
Children crying.
Hunters shouting.
Something heavy collapsing nearby.
Somewhere in all of it, someone screams my name.
"DAGIAN!"
It's faint.
I don't know who it is.
I can't lift my head enough to see.
I try one more time to move my hand. Just lift it. Just do anything.
It jerks upward an inch, then drops.
I let out a ragged breath.
So this is it.
I thought dying would feel bigger.
It just feels… small.
Small and heavy and tired.
I close my eyes.
For a second—
I let the thought come.
I'm sorry, Mom.
I'm sorry, Isabella.
A crack booms somewhere above as the Imgrel shifts its stance again. The pressure in the air builds, wrapping tight around my chest, around my head, around my thoughts.
Then—
Hands.
Rough stone scraping my back.
My body suddenly sliding, jolting, dragged across the ground.
My eyes snap open.
Dust smears my vision as I'm pulled away from where I fell. My shoulder bangs into a broken slab. My legs snag on some rubble.
Someone is dragging me.
Someone small. The grip under my arms isn't strong enough to lift me, just enough to pull, inch by stubborn inch.
I blink hard. My vision sharpens for a heartbeat.
Pale hair.
Tangled, streaked with dust, falling across a face that's too terrified and too determined at the same time.
"...Isabella…?" I rasp.
She doesn't answer me at first.
Her teeth are clenched, jaw tight, eyes wet. She leans back with everything she has, heels digging into the broken stone as she drags me, refusing to let go even as her arms shake violently.
"Come on—come on—move—" she chokes out, more to herself than to me. "You're too heavy—"
She stumbles but doesn't fall, trying again, pulling harder.
My chest tightens at the sight.
"You… need to run…" I mutter, each word scraping on the way out. "Leave me…"
She freezes for half a second.
Then she shakes her head—hard.
"No," she says, voice breaking. "No! I'm not leaving you!"
Her grip tightens under my arms. She drags again, a sob catching in her throat.
"You're hurt and you're stupid and you always act like you don't care," she cries, "but I'm not leaving you here! I won't! You're my friend!"
The word hits me harder than the fall did.
Friend.
My lips twitch.
It hurts to move my face, but I do it anyway.
A small, pained breath escapes me that might've been a laugh in a better moment.
"That's… a terrible reason…" I whisper. "To die here…"
"Shut up," she fires back immediately, tears streaking lines down her dusty cheeks. "Just— shut up and stay alive—"
The ground shakes violently as the Imgrel steps closer.
A chunk of debris crashes down a few yards away, shattering into smaller pieces that bounce across the street. Dust storms over us, making Isabella squint and cough, but she doesn't stop moving me.
Voices cut through the chaos now, closer.
"GET AWAY FROM THE FRONT!"
"KEEP LOW!"
"VOID IS BUILDING—BACK UP!"
Then a voice I know even when it's hoarse and shaking:
"DAGIAN!"
Mom's.
She barrels toward us from the direction of the barrier, nearly tripping as the ground heaves underneath her feet. Her hair is a mess, her clothes torn at the edges, but she doesn't stop.
She reaches my other side, dropping to her knees, hands flying to my face.
"Dagian—" she gasps, her voice shattering on my name. "Oh God— Dagian— look at me—"
I try.
Her face wavers in and out as my vision pulses.
"M-Mom…" I manage, the word hitching halfway out.
Her hands are warm and cold at the same time, trembling as her thumbs brush dust and blood away from my cheeks.
"You're okay," she lies. "You're okay, you're okay—"
Behind her, Rogan's voice cuts through everything like a whip:
"EVERYONE, GET TO COVER! HUNTERS, FORM A WALL AROUND THE HAVEN—MOVE, MOVE!"
Boots thunder on stone. People scream. Someone shouts that the barrier's failing. Someone else cries for their child. The noise piles on itself until it feels like the district is collapsing under sound alone.
The Imgrel's chest hums with a low, terrifying vibrato.
The air bends harder.
Small stones lift off the ground, trembling as they float, drawn toward the spiraling void forming in the creature's core.
Isabella clings to my arm, sobbing as she pulls.
My mother cups the back of my head, forehead touching mine, whispering something I can't fully hear over the roar.
"Don't leave me," she says. "Please don't leave me. Please…"
I wish I could tell her I won't.
But my voice is dust.
My lungs are fire.
The roar of the Imgrel rises, drowning out human voices, drowning out thought.
And as the monster prepares to wipe us all away—
I lie there, surrounded by the people I swore to protect, completely unable to stand.
And for a heartbeat— it really feels like this is the end.
The air itself begins to disappear.
The Imgrel's chest collapses inward like a dying star, pulling everything toward it. Dust lifts off the ground in spiraling streams. Pebbles rattle and float upward. Wind bends in unnatural directions, sucked toward the forming void.
A deep, vibrating hum swells in waves—low…then lower…deeper…until it burrows into my bones.
Isabella's scream is swallowed by the pressure.
Mom's fingers dig into my shoulder as the force yanks her hair upward.
The ground around us caves inward like a giant invisible hand is squeezing the entire district.
Hunters lose their footing.
Civilians cling to broken pillars.
Rogan roars for formation, but his own boots slide across the stone.
It feels like the world is ending.
The Imgrel leans forward, void spiraling wider, sharpening, preparing to release the one attack that will erase everything in front of it—
Then—
The sky cracks.
A thin, sharp snap rings out above us—small, like glass breaking.
The Imgrel freezes.
Another crack.
Then another.
Something bright wedges through the red clouds, thin as a needle of light.
Golden.
Warm.
Alive.
"Rogan—" someone stammers behind him, staring upward. "The sky—look at the sky—"
Rogan, still bracing against the pull, glances up—
And a gleam of hope appears in his eyes.
"…Gold…"
His eyes are fixed on the moon.
The Red Moon.
It trembles.
Hairline fractures of golden light spread across its surface like thin glowing veins. The pulsing red begins to flicker, dimming in patches as the cracks widen.
Isabella follows his gaze, her breath catching.
"The… moon…?"
Mom's hand freezes against my face.
And me—
I blink through blurred vision, the sky splitting apart above us, the cracks forming faster now, spreading like lightning across the red sphere.
Every Hunter—every civilian—every child—has grown up being taught one thing:
When the Red Moon cracks…its reign ends.
The Imgrel reacts first.
It jerks its head up sharply, mouth splitting in a tremor of shock.It lets out a panicked, guttural screech—one so loud it breaks the void spiral for a moment and sends dust blasting outward.
Its body stumbles a half step backward.
The void collapses slightly, the suction weakening.
The moon cracks again—
CRAAAACK.
A golden fissure tears down the center of the Red Moon like a blade slicing through glass.
Gasps break across the safe haven.
"The Red Moon—!"
"It's ending—!"
"It's really ending!"
"We're going to live— we're going to—"
The Imgrel screams again, louder, a shrill, earthshaking wail of terror.
For the first time all night—
It's afraid.
Its massive legs shift backward, dragging trenches in the rubble as it begins staggering away from us—away from the district—away from the haven—
toward the pit.
The moon cracks again.
And again.
And again.
Each rupture booms across the sky like thunder.Each fracture glows brighter, pushing back the red, revealing the brilliance underneath.
Golden light floods through the cracks, washing the clouds in molten radiance.
Isabella shields her eyes with her arm, tears streaking down her dusty face.
Mom holds onto me even tighter, whispering a shaken prayer under her breath.
Rogan stares upward, his breath caught in his throat, awe and disbelief flickering across his face.
I feel the warmth hit my skin.
Gold.
Soft but warm.
Like sunlight after drowning.
Then—
The Red Moon shatters.
KRSHHHHHHHHH—!!!
The entire sky bursts open in an explosion of golden radiance.
Red shards fall away like burning embers. Light pours out in rolling waves, swallowing the darkness, drowning the crimson clouds in brilliant gold.
The district is bathed in heavenly glow.
Every crack in the ruined streets shines. Every broken wall becomes a silhouette in molten light. Every face—Hunter, civilian, child—is illuminated in shimmering gold.
The Imgrel lets out one final, trembling shriek—
And runs.
Actually runs.
It turns its massive body toward the pit, stumbling in a panicked retreat.
Its arms flail.
Its legs quake.
Its molten face splits wider as the exposed light inside flickers wildly.
Rogan finds his voice again, shouting over the roar of the sky.
"THE RED MOON IS OVER—!ALL HUNTERS, REGROUP! DO NOT LET IT ESCAPE—!"
But his voice is swallowed by the overwhelming sound, a deep, vast, resonant force, like the sky itself exhaling.
The golden light intensifies, casting long shadows across the district.
The Red Moon is gone.