Beneath the Hollow Sky

Jun's return to consciousness was slow, reluctant. He surfaced through layers of weight and shadow, as though something deep in his mind wanted to keep him from waking. The air around him was cool and damp, carrying the faint scent of moss and old stone. Somewhere close by, water dripped in a slow, irregular rhythm.

A warm pressure cradled the side of his head. When his eyes finally opened, the first thing he saw was a shimmer of pale hair—Lina's hair, falling loose over her shoulders and brushing lightly against his cheek. His head rested on her lap, her posture careful, her hands resting lightly in place as if the smallest movement might hurt him.

Her gaze met his, and relief flickered across her features, though it was quickly smothered by something heavier—worry, and the unspoken weight of questions.

"You're awake," she said softly, her voice steady but subdued.

A folded cloth, damp and cool, pressed against his temple. It wasn't the one he remembered using before.

"She changed it," Lina added, tilting her head toward Maya.

Maya sat close, crouched with her elbows on her knees, her dark eyes fixed on him with unblinking focus. When she spoke, her tone was direct.

"What happened?"

Jun hesitated. The truth formed in his mind like shards of broken glass—memories of a place that shouldn't exist, the cold expanse of the void, symbols of light and shadow pulsing in silence, and the faint, inhuman whisper that had wound its way into his thoughts. He had been somewhere, but no words could make it sound real. Even if they believed him, it wouldn't help.

So he lied.

"The wounds from yesterday," he said evenly. "Guess they were worse than I thought."

Maya's brows pulled together, her expression sharp. "That's not how exhaustion works. You were fine last night."

Jun met her gaze for a long moment, holding his voice steady. "Maybe I wasn't."

The silence that followed was taut and heavy. Eventually, Maya exhaled sharply and looked away, though the stiffness in her shoulders remained.

It took more than an hour before Jun trusted himself to sit up. Lina moved gently to let him shift, her care deliberate, like she feared he might crumble if rushed. The cold of the stone floor seeped into his back as soon as he left her warmth.

Physically, the sluggishness in his limbs was fading, but mentally, he was far from steady. From time to time, an almost imperceptible chill would ripple through him—the same one he had felt in that void.

It was nothing. Just a dream.

The thought repeated itself, but with each repetition, the certainty eroded further.

Lina and Maya kept close. Maya busied herself rewrapping the strips of cloth around her feet, her movements precise, but every so often she would glance over at him as though to make sure he hadn't collapsed again. Lina stayed within arm's reach, quiet and watchful, like her presence alone could keep him anchored here.

It should have been comforting. Instead, it made him restless. The ruins didn't care if he was weak. They didn't wait for anyone to recover.

When the pale light filtering down through the cracked ceilings began to dim, Jun made his decision.

"I'm going out," he said.

Both pairs of eyes turned toward him instantly.

"No," Maya said flatly.

"I'm not asking," Jun replied, pushing himself to his feet.

"You're not in any shape to—"

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

Lina's voice joined, quiet but firm. "If you go, we go with you."

Jun's jaw tightened. "It's safer if I go alone."

Maya took a step forward, her gaze hard. "You think you're the only one who can move quietly? You think we can't watch where we step?"

"You'd slow me down," Jun said plainly.

The words landed like a stone between them. For a few seconds, no one moved. Maya's hands curled into fists, and Lina's eyes didn't waver.

Jun could read it in their posture—they weren't going to let him walk into danger without them.

He exhaled slowly. "Fine. But we move my way. No noise. No light unless I say. If we see something, we avoid it. You stay behind me at all times."

Maya gave a curt nod. Lina followed with a quiet, "Understood."

Jun adjusted the cloth tied around his waist and flexed his fingers to shake out the stiffness. His legs still felt heavier than they should, but there was no more time to waste.

A faint cry drifted from somewhere far off—a sharp, inhuman sound that echoed against stone before fading into silence.

Jun didn't look back. "Let's go."

They moved like shadows, each step measured to avoid loose stone or brittle debris. The ruins rose around them in jagged silhouettes, fractured walls and leaning pillars like the bones of a long-dead city.

Jun led, his eyes reading the smallest signs: a faint trail of disturbed dust, claw marks scraped into a wall, the bend of a vine where something large had passed. His breathing was steady, controlled.

Maya followed close behind, her gaze flicking from shadow to shadow. Lina stayed near her, one hand lightly brushing the wall for balance.

The wind caught in a hollow arch ahead, producing a low moan that could almost be mistaken for breathing.

Jun froze, raising a hand.

Through a gap in the wall ahead, a smear of something dark and half-dried marked the stone. The trail vanished into a collapsed building where the shadows pooled thick and unmoving.

"Not this way," Jun whispered.

They turned without a word.

For over an hour, they threaded their way through the maze, avoiding open spaces, doubling back when the air felt wrong. Twice, Jun caught the glint of eyes in the dark, but whatever creature they belonged to didn't follow.

By the time they returned to their shelter, the light had nearly gone. Lina sank against the wall without speaking. Maya paced once before settling across from her, elbows on her knees.

Jun remained standing, scanning the cracks in the ceiling where the last pale light bled through.

"You should rest," Lina said.

"I'm fine," Jun replied.

But the truth was that he didn't want to close his eyes. Sleep meant dreams. And dreams meant the void might find him again.

The silence stretched until Maya broke it. "You're not telling us something."

Jun's eyes narrowed slightly. "You think so?"

"I know so." She leaned forward. "Whatever happened to you before we found you—whatever's still wrong—it's not just yesterday's fight."

Jun didn't answer.

Lina's voice was softer, but it cut through the air. "We're not your burden to carry, Jun. We're here. Whatever's out there… we'll face it together."

The words lingered. For a brief moment, he almost believed them. But then he remembered the cold pressure in the void, the way it had felt aware.

He couldn't let them see that. Not yet.

Somewhere in the distance, a deep, slow sound rolled through the ruins—a heavy, dragging step, followed by another.

Jun's posture shifted instantly. "Up. Now."

Maya and Lina were on their feet in seconds, their exhaustion forgotten.

Jun's voice dropped to a whisper. "Stay behind me."

And without waiting for their response, he stepped out into the deepening dark