The quiet didn't last forever.
Footsteps approached along the rib, steady and unhurried, and Sare emerged from between the bones with a faint smile. She held up a filled canteen as she stopped in front of us.
"What are you two doing?" she asked lightly, handing it over.
I took the canteen without thinking. "Nothing important," I said, the words slipping out before I realized it.
Trace turned her head toward me, then spoke calmly, smoothing over the moment. "We were just relaxing," she said. "Given our current predicament."
Sare's smile widened just a little, amused but not pressing. She didn't comment further.
I pushed myself to my feet, joints protesting quietly, and reached into my pouch. One by one, I pulled out the soul shards we'd gathered from the Venomclasps my Knight and I had killed.
Interesting, I thought absently. My Knight's kills count as mine.
The realization lingered just long enough to wrinkle my brow as I searched for an answer that wasn't there.
"Asher?"
Trace's voice pulled me back. She'd stepped closer, her expression tight with concern. "Is something wrong?"
I shook my head and forced a small smile. "No. Just exhaustion."
I held out the shards, dividing them evenly between her and Sare. "Here. You both need these more than I do right now."
Their weight left my hands, and with it, a little of the responsibility I'd been carrying since the fight.
For the moment, that was enough.
The sun stayed warm above us.
The forest remained still.
And together, we prepared to move forward—rested or not.
"Did you manage to scout while you were gone?" I asked, leaning toward Sare.
She sat down on the dense, sprawling bone with a low grunt, rolling her shoulders as exhaustion caught up to her. "Yes," she said. "There are about twelve on the next rib."
She paused, then added carefully, "I suggest we clear it during the day. That way, we keep watch at night—and you sleep."
The way her posture shifted gave her away. Not fear exactly. Worry. I didn't blame her. We'd been awake all night, and I was barely holding myself upright.
Before the tension could thicken, Trace spoke.
"I agree," she said. "During the day I can fight better. And we still have your Knight."
Her confidence was steady, grounding. It eased the tightness in my chest more than I expected.
I nodded slowly. "That doesn't sound like the worst option." I hesitated, then looked between them. "But do you really want to take turns staying up at night?"
I rubbed my chin, thinking it through. I can't use the Shadow Realm. I can barely stand. Surprise attacks wouldn't save us this time—not against numbers.
The frustration scratched at the back of my skull. I dragged a hand through my hair, exhaling.
"…Yeah," I said at last. "Let's leave now, then."
The decision settled in place—heavy, but necessary.
We didn't have strength to waste.
So we moved while the sun was still with us.
We moved along the expansive bone, its surface worn smooth in places and cracked in others, aged like it had been here longer than anything living had the right to endure. Each step made me more aware of just how unnatural it was—how something's ribs could cover this much ground, each one the size of an island.
I kept glancing at the curve of it as we walked, trying to picture the creature whole.
What could've been so big that this was only a rib?
The thought sat heavy in my chest. If it had been alive while we were here, survival wouldn't have been something we fought for—it wouldn't have been an option at all. We'd have been insects under a foot that didn't even notice us.
When we finally climbed down and my boots touched the earth, the world shifted.
I looked up at the trees and felt a strange disorientation, like I'd lost the height I'd gotten used to. The forest seemed closer now—branches overhead, trunks tight around us, the canopy swallowing the sky. After the open ribs, being under the trees again felt like stepping back into a cage.
We moved carefully, pushing aside leaves and slipping through brush without breaking branches or snapping twigs. We didn't chase fights. We didn't invite them. Every unnecessary clash was a risk we couldn't afford—another wound, another sound, another mistake that would follow us into the night.
Sare… what's our plan for the attack? I asked, curiosity creeping into my voice despite the fatigue.
She lifted a hand and stopped us. We froze instantly, listening.
Then she turned back, rain-damp hair clinging to her face, her expression calm and focused.
"Trace and I will be behind your Knight," she said. "It'll lead the attack."
My eyes narrowed slightly. "And me?"
"You stay behind," she replied, without hesitation. "Watch. Analyze. Trust your instincts, and make your move when you see it."
The words should have annoyed me.
Instead… they made sense.
I didn't like how much they made sense.
I stared past her into the trees, feeling the weight of my own weakness again—but also the shape of something else beneath it.
A role.
A way to survive without pretending I was unbreakable.
"…Alright," I said finally, voice quiet. "We do it your way."
And we moved forward, deeper into the forest, toward the next rib—and the twelve Venomclasps waiting on it.
We reached the edge where the bone sank back into the earth, its pale surface disappearing beneath packed dirt and roots like something the forest was trying—and failing—to bury. The rib rose again ahead of us, wide and exposed, a natural bridge crawling with shadow.
I let my Knight loose.
Lead us, I thought. Take the brunt of it. Give Sare the opening.
The Echo moved immediately, stepping onto the rib with purpose, blade raised and posture steady. Sare and Trace followed close behind it, and I brought up the rear, eyes scanning, mind working.
The first attack came sooner than I expected.
Three Venomclasps broke from cover, screeching as they charged. Too fast. Too sudden.
The Knight met them head-on.
Steel rang as it deflected their initial blows, sparks flashing where pincer met blade. The impacts were heavy—enough to force it back a step—but it held its ground, absorbing the force the way I couldn't.
Trace reacted instantly, stepping into range and drawing one of the Venomclasps toward her with a burst of light. Sare moved with her, spear striking in precise arcs, looking for the paralysis point.
For a moment, it was just the Knight and Sare together, working in practiced rhythm.
I stayed back, watching.
Not frozen—calculating.
Something felt off.
Only three.
Sare had said twelve.
My gaze flicked across the rib, down into the trees, then back to the bone beneath their feet. No movement. No sound. No reinforcements rushing in the way they should have.
That wasn't relief.
That was wrong.
I tightened my grip on Midnight, eyes narrowing as unease crept up my spine.
Where are the rest of you?
The answer hadn't come yet—but I could feel it waiting.