The Glass Mire was never still. The metallic-blue haze curled over cracked planes of glass, the surface groaning with each step, as if it resented their weight.
Kade came out of the fog first. Nor followed, hauling Nico's half-conscious frame. The twin's head lolled, blood drying in lines along his jaw.
"Still breathing," Nor said.
"Bad news for everyone else," Kade replied, voice flat.
Duskveil pulsed against his ribs, a heartbeat that wasn't his. The Dying sat in his inventory like a coal that refused to cool, its presence steady, quiet… hungry. He kept half a pace ahead of Nor, enough to make reading his status impossible.
A hollow chime rolled through the Mire.
[TERRAIN PURGE — 03:00 UNTIL AREA DELETION]
Kade's eyes tracked the fog. The sound of claws on glass was getting closer.
The first Glass Predator erupted from below—shards scattering like frozen rain, its body all edges and angles. Nor pivoted, sword finding a seam, shoving it back into the crack it came from.
A second one slid across the surface, moving without sound until it was already too close. Kade's dagger split its foreleg, sending it skidding sideways. Duskveil lashed out to finish the job, threads slicing through what counted for its spine.
They didn't speak, but their movements aligned—Nor's blade filling the space Kade left open, Kade's cuts guarding Nor's blind side.
Another crack tore open at their feet. Nor and Nico went first, glass breaking under their boots.
"Move!" Kade snapped, closing the gap—hand locking on Nor's collar just as the surface gave way. He yanked them both clear, pulling Nico up by the wrist.
Nor landed hard, breath ragged, but managed a nod. He didn't notice Kade's other hand brushing his inventory, shifting The Dying deeper out of reach.
The Mire didn't stop collapsing. Sections fell away in series, like teeth being knocked out. The only stable ground was toward a jagged spire jutting into the haze.
Kade ran point. He didn't rush his warnings—one came a second too late, just enough for a predator's claw to rake Nor's side before Kade stepped in and cut it down.
Nor grimaced, holding his wound. "Could've called that earlier."
Kade shrugged. "Could've dodged faster."
They closed on the spire, glass splintering under every footfall. The predators hung back now, circling—waiting.
Nor's eyes flicked toward Kade's hands. "If you've got something that can help, now's the time."
"I do," Kade said, steady. "You're looking at it."
It was almost enough to pull a smile from Nor. Almost.
The ground beneath them cracked—not the sharp break of collapse, but a slow, deliberate split. The surface sagged inward, lowering like a trapdoor.
Through the widening gap, something moved in the dark. No eyes. No shape that made sense.
It still felt like it was staring at them.
And that stare didn't care about the Mother.
The glass sagged another inch, groaning under its own weight.
Whatever was below moved without touching the surface. The haze bent toward it, drawn like breath toward a lung.
"Kade," Nor said, voice low.
"I see it."
Duskveil writhed, threads flexing and curling back like it couldn't decide whether to strike or retreat.
The sagging pane burst inward.
A column of black water shot up, breaking into tendrils mid-air. They didn't splash when they hit the surface—just slid across it, burning hairline cracks into the glass wherever they passed.
One tendril hooked toward Nico. Nor shoved him behind, blade cleaving through the black length. It didn't bleed. The severed piece curled away and melted into nothing.
The rest of the water-thing rose, peeling itself free of the gap—no clear body, no head, just knots of shadow held in shape by the constant flex of liquid muscle.
[SYSTEM: ENTITY UNKNOWN — CLASSIFICATION PENDING]
Kade moved without thinking, circling to the side. Nor kept the thing's focus up front, sword flashing in tight arcs. Nico tried to stay behind them, boots skidding on the slick glass.
The thing struck low—one tendril whipping toward Kade's leg. He stepped in instead of back, dagger biting deep into the base of the strike. Duskveil followed, threads latching and yanking it sideways.
It hissed—not air, not voice, just a change in pressure that made Kade's teeth hurt.
"Spire!" Kade barked.
They ran in staggered formation, Kade on the flank, Nor with Nico half over his shoulder. The thing followed, never rushing, just keeping pace—every step they took widening the cracks under their feet.
Halfway there, Nor's voice cut through the haze. "You've still got The Dying, don't you?"
Kade didn't look at him. "If I did, I wouldn't be wasting time talking about it."
The silence that followed was heavier than the enemy behind them.
The spire's base came into view—sharp, jagged, too steep to climb without help. Kade reached first, anchoring Duskveil into a seam and offering the threads like a rope.
Nor hesitated only a heartbeat before using it to haul Nico up.
Kade waited until they were almost clear before cutting the threads, letting the black-water thing crash against the base instead of following clean.
It reared back, pressure spike rolling over them, then slid away beneath the glass as if it had never been there.
At the top, Nor set Nico down and turned to Kade.
"You don't have to lie to me," he said.
Kade met his eyes, tone even. "And you don't have to believe me."
The ground trembled.
The tremor rolled through the spire again, deeper this time. Somewhere in the Mire, the black-water thing let out a soundless pulse—like a heartbeat Kade felt in his teeth.
It didn't climb again. It was letting them go.
For now.
They left the spire behind, crossing the last stretch of fractured glass before the Mire's edge gave way to the broken plains of Norctum. The metallic haze bled into the land's natural twilight, and the sky opened above them.
Not open like freedom.Open like a wound.
Shards of a shattered vault hung overhead, each piece holding a different shade of dusk. Some glowed faintly, fractured light spilling onto the land below; others swallowed all brightness, so black they seemed to eat the edges of the world.
Nor kept a steady pace with Nico leaning on him, eyes flicking between Kade and the sky.
"You don't turn your back on something like that," he said, without looking at Kade.
"I wasn't planning to," Kade replied.
"I meant on you."
Kade smiled faintly. "Then don't."
They passed through stretches of dead forest where pale bark peeled in long strips, the trees leaning as if drawn toward something just beyond sight. Once, a shape moved between them—four-legged, too thin, its head cocked at the wrong angle. It didn't follow.
The ground shifted from cracked stone to damp earth as they neared the low hills. The Side House sat beyond them, tucked between a grove of black-needle pines, its chimney bleeding a thin thread of smoke into the dim sky.
Kade pushed the door open, letting the dim light spill into the narrow entry. The smell of bread and boiled herbs hit first, faint but fresh.
His mother was in her chair by the hearth, a folded blanket over her knees. She didn't stand—couldn't—but her head lifted at the sound of his steps. Her eyes found him instantly, scanning his face the way they always did after he'd been gone too long. No words, just the smallest exhale, almost relief.
Her gaze shifted past him then, catching on Nor with Nico slumped against him. The flicker of surprise in her eyes was brief, gone before it could harden into a question.
Allorio was at the table, dark coat draped over the back of his chair, fingers steepled. He hadn't moved since they came in, but Kade had the sense he'd been tracking every sound from the moment they'd hit the porch.
"You're back," Allorio said, voice mild but carrying. His eyes slid to Nor and Nico. "And you brought… company."
Nor's posture stayed level. "We crossed paths."
Allorio's gaze returned to Kade, weighing him for a beat too long. "You don't usually keep strays."
Kade's tone was flat. "They're not mine."
Allorio leaned back, the chair creaking under the motion. "Then we'll see how long they stay."