Chris didn't remember falling asleep.
One moment, he was leaning against the wall staring at the faint orange hum of the generator. Then, the tunnel was gone.
He floated in cold water. Just suspended. Breathing felt wrong but possible. The world above shimmered faintly, too far to reach.
Below him, towers stretched out from the depths. They were massive, silent, carved from glass veined with something that pulsed like blood under ice. They weren't ruins. They were alive.
He drifted downward without meaning, the pressure cradling him as if in its embrace. His hand brushed against one of the towers, warmth surged up his arm. The surface was smooth but breathing, it felt as if it was moving beneath his palm like muscle under skin.
Symbols flared along the tower's side, spiraling upward in pale blue light. They burned brighter until they formed a unknown language. Chris did not understand it at first, but then its meaning seemed to of been inserted into his mind. It was a language that felt older than the beginning of everything.
"When the sky was torn and the Salt Mother slain, one breath refused to fade.
It craved the taste of endings."
The water began to trembled. A voice followed, low and resonant, echoing through the depths as if the ocean itself spoke.
"I am the Breath That Remembers.
I measure. I condense.
All that dies becomes a path I witness."
Light gathered from the depth. Approaching him fast, as if he was what it has been searching for. He felt the overwhelming desire to reach toward it. The ocean seemed to inhale when they finally touched. The towers bowed, along with the glowing veins flaring. It seemed everything was funneling upward to him. Everything seemed to want to merge with him, as if this was its one chance to complete its task.
"Pathfinder," the voices whispered.
"The tally continues."
Chris woke up gasping as if he was drowning.
He finally retured to the tunnel,the hum of the generator, the smell of oil and sweat. His chest burned. His back seemed to be trembling against him. He yanked it open desperately searching for the shard. Reaching out for it.
The shard glowed, flickering like it was alive trying to communicate with him. Before he could process it, the shard burst inward burrowing into his hand, spreading through his body. There was no wound, he only felt the warmth as if he was being embraced. A faint mark of where the shard entered slowly faded.
He stared down. For a moment, he could see the symbols under his skin like the ones he saw in his dreams, and then it was gone.
The tunnel was quiet except for the low murmur of waking voices. Pale light bled through the vents.
Jess stirred beside him, voice rough. "You sleep at all?"
"Something like that," he said.
Across the tunnel, Valez pushed himself upright, face gray with exhaustion. His right arm still in a makeshift sling, pistol holstered at his hip.
"Alright," Valez rasped. "We've got daylight. We need volunteers to check the industrial stretch above us. They have to be able to be quiet, and confident enough to not freeze when not if it gets dicey. We need anything honestly that we can use. The rest stay here and reinforce the barricade."
No one spoke at first. Then Jess stood. "I'm in.
"Dev groaned, rubbing at his neck. "Yeah, why not. Beats sitting in the dark."
Chris hesitated. The warmth under his collarbone pulsed once, faint but firm. "I'll go too."
Valez nodded. "Good. Keep your heads on a swivel. We move slow. If anything feels off, we come back. Clear?"
"Clear," everyone echoed.
Before leaving, Chris checked his gear.
He laid everything in his bag. It was grim to say the least. He has his phone, a multitool, half a protein bar, and one bottle of water that was half way empty. He unholstered his pistol ,cleared it, checked the chamber, and checked his current magazine. It was half-spent with only 10 rounds left.
He swapped it for the full mag, and slid the weapon back into place. The semi full one was placed in his makeshift pistol belt. For emergency's sake, you always load fully he assured himself.
The ramp out of the tunnel opened into the old industrial district. Warehouses and machine shops stretched in broken rows, their windows gone,and their metal sidings scorched by the heat.
Chris followed the group up the incline, Dev was behind him carrying empty cans. Valez came last, his bad arm strapped tight to his chest, pistol gripped in his right hand.
They finally stepped out of the tunnel into the light. It didn't look like normal daylight, but as if the sunlight was being blocked behind a pale haze, its edges trembling like light trapped underwater. The shadows it cast were too sharp, too still.
"It Looks like a war zone," Jess whispered.
Chris adjusted his grip on the rebar he'd taken from the barricade. "War's usually louder than this," he said.
The words had barely left his mouth when the shard flared hot against his chest.
"Something's wrong," he muttered.
Jess followed his gaze. One of the warehouse doors ahead hung half open, the edge bent inward like a peeled lid. A faint sound came from inside a slow, rhythmic scraping, too constant to be wind.
They watched as a figure crawled, it moved slowly, unsteady, dragging its weight like it was half-asleep. In the pale daylight its skin shimmered thin, and waxy, its limbs bent seemingly stiff. When it lifted its head, its mouth opened too far, jaw unhinging until its tendons creaked.
"S-SELLS… SHH-SHELLS…"
Jess's voice flattened. "Mimic."
Valez steadied his pistol in his left hand, his right arm strapped tight in the sling. "Keep distance."
The creature lurched forward, sluggish and hesitant in the daylight. It reached the edge of the lot and paused, head tilting toward them as if it couldn't quite see.
Valez fired once. The gunshot cracked, echoing down the empty street. The mimic jerked backward, fell to one knee, then began crawling again in a slow, stubborn fashion.
Chris stepped forward, rebar clenched tight. The shard burned beneath his skin. He carefully approached the creature and swung downwards.The steel connected with the side of the creature's skull. The sound was wet and final. The mimic shuddered, skin blistering before collapsing in on itself like paper curling in flame. It crumbled into gray dust that drifted across the cracked pavement.
+2 XP
Condensed Energy: +1 XP (Shard Assimilation)
The warmth under Chris's collarbone eased, fading to a dull throb.
Jess stared at the pile of ash. "They're slower in the light."
Valez nodded, jaw tight. "Then we stick to scavenging in the daylight. Whatever's left of it that is."
Chris glanced at the sky hoping to see what he once did but it was different it was too pale, too still. He felt the shard answer with a quiet pulse beneath his skin, counting to something only it understood.