The gate stopped shaking after the third impact, but the silence that followed wasn't relief—it was the thick, heavy quiet of something intelligent waiting.
Elias stood with his back to one of the support beams, breath steady, knife still in hand. The Ravenspined Alpha lingered just beyond the wooden barrier, its low, grinding breaths vibrating the ground. He could feel them in his fractured core—each pulse a dull echo of pressure.
Arin dropped onto one knee, leaning on his spear. He wasn't exhausted, but the adrenaline was tapering fast.
"Ressa," he said between breaths, "that thing shouldn't be this far north."
"No," Ressa replied. Her voice was low, controlled, but the tension around her eyes betrayed the calculation happening behind them. "It shouldn't."
She approached the gate, placing a hand against the wood. The surface still trembled faintly, like a heartbeat that refused to stop.
"What did you two do to anger it?" she asked.
Arin pointed at Elias. "He threw a rock at its face."
Ressa turned her head slowly.
Elias didn't look away. "It was a distraction."
"A distraction," she repeated flatly.
"It worked."
Arin raised a finger. "He's not wrong."
Ressa pinched the bridge of her nose. "I swear to all the silent gods—why do I keep getting the difficult ones?"
A loud scrape sounded from outside as the alpha dragged one of its claws across the gate, testing the structure for weakness. The noise grated, layer upon layer of bone dragging against wood, until the guards flinched.
Elias didn't.
He watched the gate.
Listened.
Waited.
Arin stepped closer. "It's not trying to break through anymore."
"No," Elias murmured. "It's thinking."
Ressa stared. "Beasts that size don't think."
"Some do," Elias said. "Or something is making it."
That silenced the guards.
A moment later, distant clicking echoed from the ravine—dozens of small mandibles snapping in uneven rhythm. The Crawlers again. But they hadn't followed. They were... gathering.
Arin swallowed. "Okay. I liked this morning better when all we had to worry about was bad stew."
Ressa ignored him. She kept her attention on Elias, gaze sharp as a blade.
"What exactly did you find in that ravine?" she asked.
"Movement," Elias said. "Crawlers. More than usual."
"How many?"
"Seven attacked," he said. "At least fifteen more below."
Ressa let out a slow breath. "That's… wrong."
Arin nodded. "Very wrong."
Elias didn't speak for a moment. He was still listening—searching—for the thread of resonance he'd felt from his shadow during the battle.
The alpha's presence was strong, yes, but beneath it… something else stirred. A faint vibration. A pressure almost like—
His thoughts stopped.
The presence vanished.
No warning.
No fading.
One moment the alpha was beyond the gate, its breathing shaking the ground.
The next—
Nothing.
The guards froze.
Arin whispered, "Did it… leave?"
Elias stepped forward, placing a palm lightly against the wood. The surface was cold—not from temperature, but from absence. Like heat removed from a room.
Ressa motioned for the guards to aim their weapons.
"Stay ready," she said. "It might circle around. It might be waiting."
But Elias shook his head.
"No," he said quietly. "It's gone."
Ressa narrowed her eyes. "How do you know?"
"Because I can't feel it anymore."
That earned him several stares.
Arin whispered, "Feel it?"
Elias didn't elaborate.
He walked away from the gate before anyone could press further. The camp was awake now—fully awake. Dozens of people gathered near the center, murmuring and glancing nervously at the palisade.
"Beast attack?""Look at the scratches—gods above…""That thing was huge.""Why didn't it break through?""It should've.""Something scared it off."
Elias filtered through the noise.
Fear.Speculation.Opportunism.
The usual cocktail of human reaction to danger.
Arin caught up with him quickly. "You really think it's gone?"
"Yes."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because it wasn't hunting us," Elias said. "It was running from something else."
Arin stopped walking. "From what?"
Elias didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
But whatever had driven the alpha upward—whatever had sent dozens of Crawlers spilling out of their den—wasn't something small.
And his shadow had recognized it.
That part troubled him the most.
They reached the supply crates near Ressa's table. Ressa dismissed two guards and turned to face Elias and Arin.
"You're reporting everything," she said. "Now."
Arin recounted the events quickly and accurately—he was good at that. No embellishment. No guessing. Elias added details about tracks, the number of Crawlers, and the alpha's behavior.
Ressa listened without interruption.
When they finished, she leaned on the table, hands braced.
"This isn't a normal migration," she said. "Beasts don't abandon territory unless they're being pushed out. But nothing that size should be pushing them."
Elias looked at her. "Something is."
Ressa frowned deeply. "If there's something worse than an alpha in that ravine, we need to know."
"And yet," Elias said, "you sent two people."
"That's how scouting works," she shot back.
"No," he said calmly. "That's how testing works."
The air between them tightened.
Arin stepped back instinctively.
Ressa's voice lowered. "Careful, boy."
Elias didn't break eye contact. "You already suspected something was wrong. You wanted to see if the threat would reveal itself."
Ressa didn't deny it.
Arin whispered, "Elias, maybe—"
"She needed bait," Elias said. "And we were convenient."
Ressa exhaled sharply. "If I did send you as bait, you lived through it. Which means you're valuable."
"That depends," Elias said. "On whether you plan to use me again."
Ressa's eyes hardened.
"Listen here," she said. "This camp survives because I make decisions fast. Good ones. Hard ones. I don't have the luxury of soft choices. If I sent you two out there, it was because you're competent. You proved me right."
"And next?" Elias asked. "Another test?"
Ressa didn't answer.
Which was answer enough.
Elias's expression didn't change, but Arin stepped between them.
"Enough," Arin said. "Ressa, he's new. You can't expect him to trust you. And Elias—she runs this place. She has to be careful."
Ressa's gaze flicked to Arin.
"You trust him already?" she asked.
Arin shrugged one shoulder. "He didn't let me die. That's enough for now."
Ressa looked between them.
Finally, she said, "Both of you. Rest for the morning. We'll regroup at noon."
She walked away, shouting orders to guards, sending scouts along the perimeter, and yelling at two mages who were arguing over whether their formation was destabilizing.
Elias watched her go.
Arin exhaled heavily. "You really can't help yourself, can you?"
"She lied," Elias said.
"She didn't lie," Arin corrected. "She just didn't say everything."
"That is lying."
Arin rubbed his temples. "Gods, you're impossible."
Elias didn't respond.
He wasn't angry. He didn't feel anger the way others did. But he recognized manipulation—and he didn't tolerate it.
Arin motioned for him to follow. "Come on. You need rest. And… probably food that isn't stew."
Elias didn't need rest, but he followed anyway.
They walked to a quieter corner of the camp where a few crates were stacked against the palisade. Arin sat on one.
"So," Arin said, "what now?"
"Now," Elias said, "we wait."
"For what?"
"For whatever scared the alpha to reveal itself."
Arin stared at him. "You know… most people would hope it doesn't reveal itself."
"That's because most people are afraid."
"And you're not?"
Elias looked out toward the distant ravine, where shadows pooled beneath the rising sun.
"…No," he said. "I'm curious."
Arin groaned. "That's worse."
A shout cut through the camp.
Everyone turned.
A scout ran toward Ressa, breathless, panic in his eyes.
Elias and Arin exchanged a look.
Ressa grabbed the scout by the shoulder. "What happened?"
The scout gasped, "Tracks—big ones—coming from the ravine—not beasts—something else—"
Ressa stiffened. "Something else meaning what?"
The scout swallowed.
"They're… they're humanoid."
The camp went dead silent.
Ressa whispered, "Raiders?"
The scout shook his head, trembling.
"No," he said. "Not raiders. Not humans."
Elias stood straighter.
Arin whispered, "Elias… what's in that ravine?"
Elias didn't answer.
Because for the first time since entering this world, he felt something new in his chest.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Something in that ravine was connected to his fracture.
And it was coming closer.
Ressa barked orders. "Arin! Get your weapon. Elias—"
But Elias was already walking forward.
Toward the ravine.Toward the threat.Toward the answer he didn't know he'd been waiting for.
Arin ran after him. "Elias! We're not doing this again!"
Elias didn't look back.
"Then stay here," he said.
Arin grabbed his arm. "Not a chance."
The camp erupted into motion—guards arming themselves, scouts climbing posts, mages preparing unstable formations.
Ressa cursed and sprinted to catch up.
"Elias!" she shouted. "You don't go near that thing without—"
He stopped.
Everyone froze.
A shadow stretched across the field.
Long.Twisted.Humanoid—but wrong, like a body assembled from pieces that didn't fit.
And at the far edge of the horizon…
Something stepped into view.
Tall.Bent.Wrapped in ragged strips of darkness that crawled across its limbs like living tar.Its face was masked by bone-like plates, and long fingers dragged along the earth, carving grooves in the soil.
Arin whispered, "What… is that?"
Ressa swore softly. "By all the gods…"
Elias stared.
Not afraid.
Not horrified.
Just certain.
"That," he said quietly, "is what drove the alpha out."
The creature lifted its head.
And every shadow in the camp pulsed once in answer.
Every shadow—
including Elias's.