The Black Shore went quiet.
Even the hiss of the sand, the crackle of distant violet lightning, faded into a silence so deep Karn could hear the faint pressure in his own skull.
The massive shape stepped forward.
It wasn't like the others.Where they had been flesh wrapped in armor, this thing was absence. Its body was a moving void, shaped vaguely like a man but shifting constantly, edges dripping away like smoke in water. The only solid thing about it were its eyes — white, lidless, and fixed entirely on him.
Its heartbeat… didn't exist.
Karn frowned. No rhythm. No pulse. Just a pull, like gravity.
The smaller predators slunk back into the mist. Even the intruder, for the first time, moved a step farther away.
"Be careful, boy," he said quietly. "That one doesn't bleed… and it doesn't stop."
The creature tilted its head, the motion wrong, too fast at the end. Then it moved — not a lunge, not a step — but an instant displacement, as if it had always been there.
Karn's instincts screamed. He dropped under the sweeping arm, the motion tearing the air itself. The sand where he had stood was gone, a perfectly smooth trench carved into the ground.
His senses strained. No heartbeat meant no warning. He had to see it.But seeing was too slow.
It appeared behind him. He twisted, coral shard slashing through its torso — and nothing happened. No wound. No sound. Just the same shifting void where his blade passed.
The thing's arm caught him mid-turn.
Pain exploded in his ribs as he was flung across the shore, slamming into a jagged coral rib that cracked under the impact. His breath left him in a single sharp gasp, but he forced himself upright.
The intruder watched, arms folded, eyes cold.
"You can't kill it with that. You need more."
Karn ignored him, tasting blood. He gripped the coral shard tighter.
The creature blurred forward again. This time, Karn didn't move back. He stepped into the attack, letting its arm pass just over his shoulder, and jammed the shard upward toward where its head should be — only to feel it pass through again.
The void shifted, almost… laughing.
Something inside Karn twisted.
Heat bloomed in his chest — not the shallow burn of exertion, but something deep, ancient, like molten gold flooding his veins. His vision sharpened until every grain of black sand was crystal clear, the entire world slowing to a crawl.
The intruder's eyes widened a fraction.
"Ah… there it is."
Karn's right hand burned. He glanced down — faint cracks of light, gold and red, ran across his skin like molten glass under the surface. The coral shard in his grip pulsed violently, almost alive in his hand, as if it recognized the power.
The creature lunged again.
This time, Karn didn't dodge. He pivoted forward, driving the glowing shard through the center of the void's chest. For the first time, there was resistance — and the thing screamed. The sound was not a roar, not a cry — but the shattering of glass inside his mind.
Light burst from the wound, tearing cracks through the void's form until it collapsed inward, folding into itself and vanishing with a single soundless implosion.
The silence returned.
Karn stood still, chest heaving. The glow in his veins faded, but the faint, sun-shaped mark over his sternum — one he'd never seen before — remained.
The intruder stepped forward, eyes locked on it.
"The Sun's Scar," he murmured. "I knew it was real."
Karn's gaze sharpened.
"Why bring me here?"
The man's grin returned, sharper than ever.
"Because, boy… that thing wasn't hunting me. It was hunting you."
And far beyond the coral plains, dozens of new, pulse-less presences stirred.