The tunnel ruins waited for them like an open mouth.
Concrete ribs. Rusted rebar jutting out like broken teeth. The abandoned tram entrance dipped into the earth, half-flooded, half-collapsed, all wrong even before the river cracked open weeks ago.
Now?
It felt alive.
Manraj didn't know how he knew. He didn't want to know. But every step into the overgrown lot sent a pulse into his chest—like the countdown itself was trembling.
36 → 36 → 36
Stuck.
Frozen.
Like whatever followed them had stalled the clock.
Zoya dragged him behind a row of shattered pillars.
"Stay low," she whispered.
He crouched beside her, breath shaky. "Do you think it'll come straight in?"
"No," she said. "It'll stalk us first."
"How do you know?"
"Because it already is."
Manraj swallowed hard.
And then he saw it.
Not fully.
But enough.
A shimmer of wrongness at the top of the tram tunnel steps. Shadows bending inward. Lines of sunlight warping around a shape that the world wasn't designed to hold.
The creature slid into view.
It didn't walk.
It poured.
Down the steps, over broken concrete, reforming into its too-thin limbs as it approached the bottom.
It paused.
Tilted its hollow face.
And inhaled.
A breath that wasn't a breath but a siphon—dragging the air backward, pulling at Manraj's ribs from across the clearing.
His chest pulsed in answer—unbidden.
He cursed under his breath.
Zoya grabbed his wrist, holding it against her chest.
"Stay with me."
He nodded, even as pain crawled up his spine.
The creature drifted toward the center of the lot, head snapping in tiny, unnatural jerks.
Searching.
Waiting.
Listening.
Zoya mouthed one word:
"Now."
She surged upward, planting herself fully in the open.
"HEY!" she screamed. "Looking for him?"
The creature jerked.
Every inch of its form vibrated.
Then it lunged.
Zoya threw Silence like a wall.
The air cracked—
but the creature burst through it, shredding the energy like wet cloth.
Zoya skidded backward, boots scraping dirt.
"Okay—okay—BAD idea—Manraj—NOW!"
Manraj stepped out from behind the pillar—
and the creature froze mid-run.
Its head snapped toward him.
The hollow widened.
Manraj felt the pull.
A deep, ripping suction inside his chest, like something was clawing through him from behind.
He staggered.
Zoya grabbed his elbow.
"Don't fall—DON'T FALL—"
The creature surged toward him—
And Manraj finally reacted.
He didn't throw light.
He didn't flare power.
He did the one thing he hated:
He opened the chest-symbols a fraction.
Just enough.
A pinprick of tri-light pulsed outward.
The creature convulsed.
Every limb snapped outward—
arms twisting in ecstatic hunger—
pulling itself toward him in a frenzy, no longer stalking—
charging.
Zoya hissed, "Too strong—TOO STRONG—"
"I know—!" Manraj gasped.
He tried to shut the light again—
but he couldn't.
His core was responding to the creature instinctively, like facing a predator that smelled like home.
Zoya made the call.
It was the wrong one. The stupid one. The only one.
She threw herself between them.
Her hands erupted in raw Silence—slamming into the creature's chest.
The blow hit like a rupture in the air.
BOOM.
The creature flew backward—
hit a concrete pillar—
and disintegrated into a cloud of black fragments.
Manraj gasped for air.
Zoya crouched, arm shaking violently, her Silence guttering.
"Did—did that kill it?" she wheezed.
The black fragments paused mid-air.
Twitched.
Stitched themselves together.
"No," Manraj whispered. "No it didn't."
The creature reformed.
Faster this time.
Angrier.
And Manraj finally understood.
"It's learning," he said, voice cracking. "Just like the entity did. Every second near us—every attack—it's learning our power signatures."
Zoya's face drained of color.
"Then we can't hit it the same way twice."
The creature's limbs elongated again—longer than before.
Sharper.
It raised one hand—
and a mimicry of Silence flickered in its palm.
Manraj's blood ran cold.
"Oh, that's cheating," Zoya whispered.
The creature threw the corrupted Silence back at them.
Manraj grabbed Zoya, yanking her behind a pillar as the attack carved a circular dent into the stone where they'd stood.
The pillar hissed—like Silence itself had been poisoned.
Manraj pressed Zoya deeper into cover.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded, breath ragged.
"You?"
"No."
They looked at each other.
And for one terrible second—they both realized:
They were outmatched.
Not by strength. Not by speed. Not by origin.
But by evolution.
This thing was adapting faster than they could plan.
Zoya wiped blood from her lip.
"Fine. New strategy."
Manraj raised a brow. "Which is?"
"Cheat."
She grabbed his arm and pulled him into the open.
The creature lunged—
but Zoya wasn't aiming at it.
She aimed at the ground.
Her Silence cracked the soil, forcing it to ripple upward like a wave, shoving the creature backward with terrain instead of force.
Manraj understood instantly.
It hadn't learned that yet.
The creature tumbled—
reforming midair—
but Manraj was already moving.
He slammed his palm onto a broken tram rail.
Tri-light shot through the metal—
and the rail glowed like a heated blade.
The creature landed—
and Manraj swung the rail like a staff.
It hit the creature's spine—
and for the first time—
the creature screamed.
A wet, distorted, multi-layered sound that wasn't meant for human ears.
Zoya grabbed the creature's arm mid-scream—
and her Silence wrapped around it like chains.
The creature thrashed—
shuddered—
glitched—
lowered its head—
and whispered:
"…Eryth…"
Manraj stepped forward.
"STOP calling me that!"
He drove the rail through its chest.
Light tore through its body.
Zoya braced herself as the creature dissolved—shadows peeling away like smoke.
Manraj exhaled.
"It's done."
Zoya shook her head.
"No," she muttered. "No it's not."
He frowned.
"What do you—"
She pointed.
At the shadow left behind.
A thin outline on the ground— shaped like a man.
Long-haired.
Lean.
Familiar.
Azhar's silhouette.
Manraj's throat closed.
"Zoya…"
Her voice cracked.
"It wasn't hunting you alone."
The shadow pulsed—
once—
twice—
and
a whisper echoed up the tunnel:
"…brother…"
Manraj's blood froze.
Zoya grabbed him, pulling him away from the shadow.
"Run," she breathed.
"Now."
The shadow flinched—
stretched—
and formed a second hollow face.
This one shaped unmistakably like Azhar's.
Manraj whispered:
"…Zoya."
Her grip tightened.
"I know."
And then the shadow rose.