The silence after the collapse was suffocating.
Dust drifted like ash through the ruined street where the explosion had torn stone apart. The few flames still flickering cast jagged shadows that made every broken wall resemble a crouching predator.
Bright pushed himself upright, coughing hard. His ears rang. His head swam.
Where—?
His Danger Sense flickered weakly, a static buzz rather than a warning. The shockwave had rattled more than the ground — for a moment, it had severed his connection to the surrounding flow of instinct.
He forced himself to focus.
Bodies lay scattered, some unmoving, some groaning as they stirred. Roegan was already up, leaning heavily on his sword, blood running from a cut along his jaw. Duncan, coughing violently but intact thanks to Bone Guard, helped drag a pinned soldier from under broken masonry.
Link limped over, cloak torn, eyes burning with adrenaline and panic. "That thing… that wasn't a crawler. It— it knew we'd try to strike at the core."
"Because the core wasn't its own," Bright said, stomach tightening. "The projection placed it there. It used the beast as a delivery system."
Roegan's expression hardened. "Then we're dealing with something that thinks."
The old soldier scanned the field, voice low. "Count survivors."
Adam emerged from the dust behind them, stepping carefully around rubble — almost… too calmly.
Bright's eyes narrowed slightly. "Adam, are you alright?"
Adam blinked once, faintly surprised by the question. "Fine. Just checking on supplies."
His hand tightened subtly on the satchel strap.
Where the cores were kept.
But Bright's Danger Sense didn't react to him — just a quiet uneasiness, lingering like smoke.
Duncan hurried over. "Captain — we lost four. One critical."
Roegan's jaw clenched. "We move before the projection regroup—"
A pulse surged beneath their feet.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
The heartbeat.
Now impossibly close.
The fog parted — and shapes slithered from the ruins. Not many. Not large. But purposeful. Their eyes glowed faint red, and their movements synced to the pulsing rhythm.
Bright steadied his breathing.
They weren't charging.
They were observing.
As if reporting back.
Roegan raised his blade to signal a defensive line — but the monsters didn't attack. They sniffed the air, scanned the wounded… then backed away into the mist, disappearing as quickly as they came.
"What was that?" Link spat. "Scouts?"
"No," Bright said quietly. "A roll call."
Duncan frowned. "For what?"
"To see who's still alive to hunt."
A chill spread through the group. Roegan gestured for regroup. "We're falling back. Castle walls give us leverage."
Silence. No one argued.
They began moving again — slower, battered. Wounded soldiers were supported by comrades, and Roegan set the pace, scanning every rooftop.
The heartbeat followed.
It wasn't a sound.
It was a presence.
Every step felt watched.
Later — On the Road Back
The fog didn't feel like fog anymore.
It felt like breath.
Bright couldn't get the image out of his head — that moment before the explosion, when he'd realized too late.
Planted.
Designed.
"We hurt its paw," he whispered to himself, "but we never even saw the beast."
Adam walked a few paces ahead, fingers occasionally brushing his chest pocket as if to reassure himself. Each time, he checked if anyone noticed.
Bright did.
But Danger Sense remained quiet.
A struggle waged in Bright's thoughts.
Adam was brilliant.
Adam was resourceful.
Adam had saved Duncan's life twice already.
But Bright saw the way he stared at the dead soldiers they passed…
as if evaluating them.
As if measuring.
A scream jolted him from his thoughts.
One of the younger soldiers — Theo — stumbled, clutching his head. "Make it stop— make it— the heartbeat— it's— inside—"
Bright sprinted to him, grabbing his shoulders. "Focus on my voice. Breathe."
Theo's eyes rolled, then he collapsed, trembling.
Roegan knelt beside them. "Symptoms are accelerating."
Adam stepped forward, voice steady — too steady. "The toxin attacks perception first. Fear amplifies the spread."
"So what do you recommend?" Duncan snapped.
Adam's gaze lingered a fraction too long on the dying soldier.
Only a fraction.
"We need to reach sheltered ground within the hour," he said. "Or start losing people."
Bright helped Theo to his feet, feeling the tremor in his limbs. "We're not losing anyone."
But clarity struck him like a slap.
They were losing people.
Slowly. Quietly.
Piece by piece.
And something in the mist was tallying the count.
From high above the ruins, perception rippled outward like threads.
Not eyes.
Not a face.
But awareness.
The initiate's projection pulsed through the Shroud, influencing every lesser crawler. Its presence tasted like iron and hunger.
They moved as its nerves.
They struck as its claws.
They exploded as its heartbeat demanded.
The humans were adapting too quickly.
Especially the one who moved like flickering light —
the boy with the sharp sense.
It marked him.
Another human shone with calculation —
the one who hid his hunger.
It marked him too.
The leader radiated defiance. The shield-bearer radiated endurance.
They were prey.
But they were evolving prey.
This entertained the projection.
It sent a signal — not a roar, but a whisper carried through every monster's spine:
Observe. Separate. Isolate. Break their unity.
Then feast.
The fog deepened as the projection concentrated.
The next attack would not be brute force.
It would be temptation.
Corruption.
Division.
Its hunger sharpened into a plan.
Back With Roegan's Group
The walls of the shattered cathedral finally came into view — faint through the haze.
Relief loosened the tension in shoulders and voices… if only slightly.
Roegan looked ready to collapse. But he held firm. "We stabilize. Then—"
His voice cut off.
Another pulse struck.
Not beneath their feet — but inside their skulls.
Bright winced, teeth clenched. Duncan dropped to one knee. Link grabbed a wall to steady himself.
Theo screamed again — not in fear this time, but raw agony.
The projection wasn't waiting.
"Move!" Roegan ordered. "Inside— now!"
They crossed the threshold just as Night Crawlers appeared on rooftops behind them — too distant for combat, but close enough to watch.
And wait.
The heartbeat faded as they passed into the cathedral, replaced by the strained breathing of exhausted survivors.
But Bright knew the truth:
The projection had chosen its next strategy.
It would not rush them again.
It would starve them.
Poison their hope.
Make them turn on each other.
He looked toward Adam — who sat alone, the satchel resting against his leg.
Bright's Danger Sense finally fluttered — a soft ripple.
Not warning.
Not condemnation.
Just… acknowledgment.
Adam met his gaze across the dim hall.
His eyes were calm.
Too calm.
We're all trying to survive, that gaze seemed to say.
Some of us are simply better at it.
Bright looked away first.
Because he wasn't entirely certain that Adam was wrong.