The forest should not have been this quiet.
Rowan could feel the hush pressing into his ears, thick and unnatural, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath. The silence was a weight, a pressure, a warning. Every instinct he possessed screamed to move, to hide, to drag the others and run until his legs tore apart.
But Daniel wasn't moving.
He held Eli in a tightening grip, fingers trembling where they curled beneath the boy's shoulder. Eli's head rested limply against Daniel's chest, breath shallow, eyes fluttering but unfocused. His skin—what wasn't smeared with dirt and blood—was turning pale, nearly translucent.
Whatever had hit him… it wasn't something Rowan recognized.
"Daniel," Rowan whispered. "We need to—"
"I know." Daniel didn't look up. His voice was steady but there was no strength behind it. "I know, Rowan. Just… give me a moment."
But the forest didn't believe in moments.
Behind them, the canopy shifted with a long, slow groan, as though something heavy brushed against the treetops. Rowan reached for the handle of his blade—only to stop halfway. The air itself was humming. Vibrating. A deep, pulsing rhythm, too low to hear but too strong to ignore.
"We can't stay here," Rowan said. "Whatever made that silence… it's still here."
Daniel closed his eyes. "I wasn't ready to tell him," he murmured again, the words a confession to no one and everyone. "I thought we had more time."
Rowan didn't understand, not fully, but he didn't need to. There would be time for questions later—time if they survived.
He scanned the shadows beneath the trees. The burnt smell of corrupted Root still lingered from earlier battles, but beneath it… something else moved. Something cold, slow, and ancient. He couldn't see it, but he could feel it crawling beneath his skin.
"Daniel," Rowan urged, "we have to go."
Daniel exhaled slowly, forcing his expression back into something like composure. He slid Eli's arm over his shoulder and rose to one knee.
Then he froze.
Because Eli's eyes opened.
They weren't the soft hazel Rowan knew. They were bright. Too bright. A pulse of silver light flickered in their depths—quick, sharp, almost electric.
And then Eli spoke, barely above a whisper.
"They're coming."
His voice was layered—Eli's tone floating beneath a second one, a hollow, echoing distortion that made Rowan's spine lock straight.
Daniel stiffened. "Eli…?"
Eli didn't answer. His fingers twitched against Daniel's sleeve, tightening as though gripping something unseen.
Rowan took a step closer. "Eli, can you hear us?"
The boy's gaze unfocused, then sharpened. His lips parted, breath trembling.
"Roots don't bleed," he whispered.
"Not unless they're feeding."
The temperature plummeted.
Rowan spun toward the trees, blade snapping free. "Move! Daniel, move now!"
Something tore through the treeline.
A low, guttural vibration rippled across the ground before the creature even emerged. Rowan braced himself, feet digging into the damp soil as a massive shape lumbered into view.
At first glance, it looked like a stag—if a stag's antlers twisted like charred roots, spiraling upward into jagged, branching spines. Its fur was gone, replaced by bark-like plates splitting apart to reveal glowing veins of pulsing blue light.
Its eyes were hollow pits, filled with drifting embers.
A Ruin-Tethered Beast.
A variant Rowan had only heard about—never seen.
"Run!" Rowan shouted.
Daniel didn't argue. He hauled Eli against him as the creature's head jerked toward them, its antlers scraping across the canopy with a crackle of lightning.
The beast inhaled.
The air rippled.
"Down!" Rowan yelled—
—but the forest exploded before he even finished.
A wave of compressed force blasted through the clearing, uprooting shrubs and sending splinters flying like knives. Daniel shielded Eli, rolling behind a fallen tree trunk. Rowan dove sideways as a trunk shattered where he stood a heartbeat earlier.
The Ruin-Tethered Beast lowered its head again, antlers glowing brighter.
"It's charging another!" Rowan yelled.
"I can't outrun that!" Daniel replied.
Eli's voice, faint but urgent, cut through the chaos.
"Roots… split the ground… move toward the hollow…"
Daniel stared down. "Eli, what are you—"
But Rowan understood first.
The forest floor was subtly uneven. Beneath the scattered leaves and moss, the earth slumped slightly toward a dip—a hollow, hidden beneath the roots of a massive oak. A natural shelter. A pocket of safety.
"Daniel!" Rowan shouted. "There!"
Without hesitation, Daniel sprinted. Rowan ran alongside him as the beast's antlers brightened to a blinding blue.
They dove behind the hollow just as the Ruin-Tethered unleashed its second blast.
The ground caved with a thunderous crack. Debris rained down, but the hollow shielded them from the worst of it. Rowan pressed his back against the curved earth wall, lungs burning from the shockwave.
Daniel slumped beside him, Eli limp in his arms again.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Only the distant echo of the beast's breathing rumbled across the clearing.
Rowan chanced a glance over the edge.
The Ruin-Tethered prowled slowly, massive head turning as if tasting the air. It knew they were here. It just hadn't pinned their exact location—yet.
Rowan crouched lower. "We're trapped."
"Not… trapped," Eli whispered.
Both Rowan and Daniel looked at him.
Eli's pupils dilated, the silver gleam returning—for a moment, flickering like something fighting its way to the surface.
"They think in echoes," Eli murmured. "If you change the rhythm… they lose the trail."
Rowan blinked. "What rhythm?"
Eli raised a trembling hand and pressed it to his chest.
"Your heartbeat."
Rowan's breath froze.
Daniel's arms tightened instinctively around Eli. "What did they do to you…?"
Eli didn't respond. He sagged against Daniel's shoulder, breath weakening again.
But Rowan understood enough to act.
He ripped cloth from his sleeve and wrapped it tightly around his forearm, constricting the blood flow until his heartbeat thudded irregularly, uneven.
If the beast really tracked them through rhythmic vibration—through the echo of living pulses—then…
"You think this will work?" Daniel asked.
Rowan exhaled, steady and calm. "We don't have many options."
Daniel swallowed hard, then adjusted Eli's position and followed suit, tightening a strip of cloth around his upper arm. Eli's heartbeat was already faint—so faint that it barely registered through Daniel's grip.
Rowan peeked over the hollow again.
The Ruin-Tethered Beast had stopped.
Its antlers dimmed slightly as it swept its head from side to side, searching. A frustrated rumble tore from its throat.
"It's confused," Rowan whispered.
Daniel gave a shaky breath of relief. "For how long?"
Rowan didn't have an answer.
Because the ground trembled again—but not from the beast.
From deeper beneath.
Something crackled across the soil like electricity, thin fissures of pale blue light webbing outward from beneath the creature's hooves.
"Daniel…" Rowan murmured slowly, "it's… calling to something."
Daniel looked ready to collapse. "What now?"
Rowan didn't want to say it.
Didn't want to believe it.
But the earth itself seemed to whisper the truth.
"A second one," Rowan said. "It's summoning another."
Daniel's face drained of color.
Eli's head twitched against his chest, lips moving as if trying to speak. Rowan knelt closer.
"What is it, Eli?" Rowan asked softly.
The boy's voice was almost inaudible.
"There's… an old one… under the roots…"
Daniel stiffened. "Old one?"
"Deep," Eli whispered, voice a ghost. "Buried… sealed… hungry…"
The forest groaned.
Roots shifted beneath the earth, twisting like serpents. Moss slid away as the soil buckled, cracking open in jagged lines. A dark, yawning gap stretched between the trees—an opening descending into blackness.
Rowan's pulse hammered. "We need to move. Now."
Daniel tightened his grip on Eli. "Where? Rowan, where are we supposed to run?"
Rowan didn't know.
But staying meant being swallowed.
He grabbed Daniel's shoulder. "Follow me. Don't look back."
The two scrambled out of the hollow. The Ruin-Tethered Beast snapped its head in their direction, but Rowan didn't give it time to act. He darted toward the rising roots, weaving between them as they twisted like living things.
A roar split the air.
The beast charged.
"Rowan!" Daniel shouted, stumbling behind him as the ground trembled under pounding hooves.
"I know!" Rowan yelled back, sprinting faster.
The earth split open beneath the nearest oak. A cavernous tunnel revealed itself, spiraling downward into a choking blue-black glow.
Rowan stopped dead at the edge.
Daniel nearly collided with him. "What the hell—?!"
Rowan turned toward him, breath harsh. "We can't outrun it. We can only go down."
Daniel stared at the chasm, horrified. "Into that?"
"We don't have a choice!"
A thunderous impact shook the ground behind them. The Ruin-Tethered Beast burst into the clearing, antlers blazing.
Rowan grabbed Daniel by the collar and shoved him toward the hole.
"Jump!"
Daniel clutched Eli tightly, and together they fell into the darkness.
Rowan jumped a heartbeat after.
The beast lunged—its antlers smashing against the collapsing edge of the pit as Rowan plummeted into the depths.
The world dissolved into freefall.
Wind roared past his ears. Roots flashed by like claws reaching down the shaft. Blue light spiraled around him, illuminating glimpses of Daniel twisting protectively around Eli as they fell.
The tunnel narrowed.
Rowan braced himself.
The impact came hard.
He struck a sloped surface of tangled roots and slid violently, pain lancing through his shoulder as he tumbled end over end. The slope curved, redirecting him downward until he crashed onto a bed of thick moss.
The air rushed from his lungs.
For several seconds, he only lay there, gasping.
Then—
"Rowan!"
Daniel's voice echoed from farther down the cavern. Rowan forced himself upright, clutching his throbbing shoulder as he staggered toward the sound.
He found Daniel kneeling beside Eli, checking his pulse.
"Is he—?"
"He's alive," Daniel gasped, voice trembling. "Barely."
Rowan let out a shuddered breath of relief.
Then he looked up.
They were in a vast underground chamber—roots coiling along the walls like skeletal ribs. Strange crystalline growths pulsed faintly, illuminating patches of ancient carvings etched into the bark-covered stone.
The air was humid. Too humid.
And beneath the humidity…
Breathing.
Slow. Deep. Immense.
Rowan's stomach dropped. "Daniel… we need to keep moving."
But Daniel didn't look up.
His gaze was fixed on Eli.
Something new was happening to him.
Silver light seeped from Eli's skin—thin lines tracing down his arms, converging along his fingertips. The air vibrated around him, warping like heat above a blazing fire.
Rowan stepped closer. "Eli?"
Eli's eyes opened.
The silver had overtaken everything. No pupil. No iris. Only blinding, mirrored light.
And when he spoke, it wasn't his voice.
"You should not have entered the breathing place."
Rowan froze.
Daniel's entire body locked.
The chamber trembled as if reacting to the words. The roots along the walls shuddered, shedding dust and flakes of ancient bark.
Rowan swallowed hard. "Who… are you?"
Eli turned toward him slowly, his movements too fluid, too controlled—nothing like the boy who only minutes ago had been choking on his own breath.
"A memory," the voice said.
"A remnant."
"A warning."
Daniel's voice cracked. "What warning?"
The silver gaze turned to him.
"You wake something that should remain buried."
The chamber shook.
Roots snapped.
A deep, monstrous groan reverberated from the black chasm on the far side of the cavern.
Rowan reached for his blade.
Daniel shielded Eli.
And the voice inside Eli spoke one last time, fading like dying embers:
"Run, hunters… while you still can."
The cavern's far wall tore open.
And something began pulling itself from the darkness.
Something older than the Ruin-Tethered.
Something hungrier.
Something that remembered their names.