Zach moves silently down the ridge while his boots crunch through the burned debris, and the air carries the heat from the remaining magic. He approaches me and examines my injuries—my sleeve shows stains of dried blood at my temple, and new boots emit a faint glow.
His brow furrows. "You're alive. And geared up."
I nod. "We ended up in this build, and that building… it wasn't on the map. It was something else. Two of my teammates, Liam and Kevin, are dead."
Zach's jaw clenches. The air between us thickens.
"Whatever happened there, I am glad you walked out of it."
"Barely. But yeah."
He holds his gaze momentarily before moving by me and dropping to his knees next to the charred remains of the monster. "You awakened something," he says quietly. "What did you do?"
"I made something new," I answer. "Combined forging and vanguard flow. It's not stable yet, but… it worked."
A beat of silence.
Zach stands. "You'll have to show me later. For now, we regroup. This place isn't done testing us."
I turn to follow him, but I hesitate.
"There's something else," I say. "That building—it wasn't random. It was designed. Someone's watching us. Playing with us."
Zach doesn't flinch. He clenches the hammer in his hand instead of reacting differently.
"Then we'll give them something worth watching."
As we move away from the ridge, I glance around. "Where are your teammates?"
Zach's expression hardens, his pace slowing. "Separated. We hit a warp trap during the approach. Abdul and Jennifer were supposed to be tracking down the main nest while I reinforced the flank."
"Any contact?"
"None since the shift." He taps the side of his Aetherplate. "Signal's been jammed or looped. I can't see any of my teammates."
I frown. "This is not the best position for us to be in."
Zach doesn't answer immediately. Then, with that same steady tone:
"No. But if the Aetherplate says they are still breathing, they'll find a way. So will Julian and Chris. We will keep moving until we find them—or something else that gives us answers."
I look at Zach from the corner of my eye as we navigate through scorched roots and broken stone. "How do we get back? To the Altinium grounds.
Zach's jaw flexes, just slightly. "The recall sigil gets activated either when mission parameters are completed or when a team-wide distress override occurs. That's assuming the Forger network has line-of-sight."
"Meaning?"
"If we find ourselves underground or within a sealed field where the warp is maintained by a separate magical domain, we will not have an escape route, unless we have a way of getting back without a sigil."
For a brief moment, I halt, and the full meaning of the situation begins to sink in. "So we're trapped in wherever we are right now."
He stops to look forward before turning his gaze back to me and says, "For now."
"There's one other way. A unique recall anchor exists with each team lead, and they can activate it manually. It overrides all location-based jamming."
"Julian?"
He nods. "Or my squad leader, Aoki."
Our final backup option exists if Julian or Aoki maintains possession of their anchor and remains alive.
I look back at the path we traveled from while observing the scorched horizon behind us.
"We need to survive this while trying to find them and hope that our squad leaders haven't used their anchors already."
Zach starts moving again. "Hope is for those who wait. We can locate them before we reach that point."
When daylight yields to the strange twilight of this tainted area, the landscape shifts from burned trees and sulfuric cracks into a mossy glade full of unnatural silence.
We spend hours carefully moving through the cursed territory until we find what appears to be a secure place while staying away from the distant echoing noises. The abandoned Forger post's remains remain within the crumbling cliffside's shelter.
Zach evaluates the carved sigil-lock embedded in the stone surface. "Still active. Weak, but intact. No immediate contamination."
A small room forms the interior with dust-covered shelves and rusted supply cases lining the walls. An old map nailed to the back wall stands upright in place. The limited space allows us to sit and take a breath before collecting our thoughts.
I spread my legs and sit on the ground as I examine my Aetherplate that displays two names obscured by an emblem of the dead. No change.
Zach rests his hammer against the wall, then sits across from me. The sigil-lock on the outside area produces a dim light that pulses slowly like a heartbeat.
He announces our plan to rest here overnight. "Tomorrow, we start tracking again."
…
The world is quiet.
A garden fills my space while soft, pale gold light surrounds me. The garden radiates softness as sunlight passes through towering trees while wind hums through lavender, and distant bird calls ring out in harmony. The air possesses a gentle warmth that envelopes my skin without creating any burden.
A girl occupies a wooden swing that hangs beneath an overhead branch, which curves like an architectural piece from the sky.
It's her again.
I recognize her as the girl from my other dream whose oceanic eyes have depth and whose presence brings absolute tranquility to the world.
She swings gently, not too high. She moves the way that her dress subtly flutters with each gentle motion. The petals beneath her feet feel the brush of her bare toes. She looks at me and smiles—soft, genuine.
I don't move. I don't say anything. But something in my chest untangles itself. A gentle warmth spreads slowly across my ribs as sunlight crawls slowly across the floor during the early morning hours.
And I smile back.
We don't need to speak. The silence between us isn't awkward—it's complete. Peaceful.
Then—
A sound. A presence behind me. The hairs on my neck rise.
I turn, slowly.
Claude stands just a few feet away. His face shows no expression while his relaxed posture suggests he remains alert. But he's not alone.
Beside him, a figure.
Tall. Human-like. But not quite. The creature's skin resembles ash but displays faint veins of white-blue energy that pulse rhythmically. Polished mirrors for eyes fix on me without revealing emotion. Not threatening—just observing.
Claude says nothing. The creature says nothing.
And then, the dream shatters.