Morning in the ruins didn't feel like morning at all. The fog outside was still thick, pressing against the shattered windows like a living thing. The air smelled faintly metallic, as if blood had been spilled here long ago and never washed away.
Kyle had been awake the whole night, watching the doorway. Every creak of the rusted beams kept his senses sharp.
Felix stirred first, stretching with a groan. "Man, this place has all the charm of a graveyard in winter. Ten out of ten, never sleeping here again."
"Wouldn't matter," Kyle replied without looking at him. "We're not staying."
Gia sat up, pulling her hair into a quick knot. "Why? We were safe here."
Kyle's eyes narrowed. "Not anymore."
The Mark of Pursuit
He walked over to the doorway and brushed his hand along the edge of the metal frame. A thin line of black ash clung to it.
Felix frowned. "That supposed to mean something to me?"
"It's a tracking sigil," Kyle said flatly. "The Hunter's been here. He knows we're close."
Gia's voice dipped. "How close?"
Kyle turned toward her, his tone grim. "Close enough to smell the air we left behind."
Felix stood, already strapping on his blades. "Well, that's unsettling. Let's get moving before your little pen-pal shows up."
Through the Dead City
They moved fast, sticking to the narrow streets where the fog was thickest. The city around them felt wrong—hollow buildings leaning over as if listening, glass windows cracked like spiderwebs. Every so often, Gia glanced behind her, as if expecting something to step out of the mist.
Kyle kept them moving in an erratic pattern—cutting through alleys, doubling back, taking routes that twisted their direction. Felix finally groaned, "Any reason we're doing the world's most complicated walking tour?"
"Making us harder to track," Kyle said.
Gia glanced at him. "Do you think it's working?"
Kyle didn't answer, but his jaw tightened. That was answer enough.
The Fog Splits
Halfway through a crumbling district, the fog ahead rippled. Not like wind—like something was parting it.
"Tell me that's not what I think it is," Felix muttered.
Kyle's blood turned cold. "It's him."
Out of the mist stepped the Hunter—a tall, lean figure clad in dark, segmented armor. His mask was smooth and featureless except for a single red slit where his eyes should be. In one hand, he held a blade so black it seemed to drink the light.
The voice that came from behind the mask was smooth, calm, and dripping with certainty.
"Kyle. You run well. Let's see how well you bleed."
The Chase
Kyle didn't hesitate. "Run."
Gia opened her mouth to argue, but then the Hunter moved—faster than thought, his blade carving the space where she'd been standing a split second ago. Kyle grabbed her arm and shoved her ahead, blood forming into a jagged spear in his free hand.
Felix darted to the side, trying to flank, but the Hunter's attention was locked on Kyle alone.
The streets turned into a blur—fog, stone, steel. Gia's breathing was ragged, her steps quick but unsure on the cracked pavement.
"Kyle—where—"
"Just keep moving!"
Felix's voice rang from somewhere behind. "You know we can't outrun him forever, right?!"
"Then we buy time," Kyle growled, planting himself between the Hunter and Gia. Blood surged from his arm, forming into a long whip that cracked against the cobblestone, splintering it.
The Hunter tilted his head. "You think you can win this?"
"I don't need to win," Kyle said darkly. "I just need you to lose focus."
And with that, the fight exploded.
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