Gray dawn broke over the horizon as New Greyhaven's walls loomed ahead. Hugo squinted at the patchwork fortifications, a hodgepodge of stone, timber, and scavenged metal sheets. Scorch marks and impact craters pockmarked the outer wall. Workers on scaffolding hammered and reinforced weak points while archers patrolled the ramparts.
"We made it," Naomi said, relief evident in her voice.
Hugo nodded but felt no particular joy. The settlement looked fragile compared to Old Greyhaven's massive stone ramparts. And those had fallen in a night.
They approached the main gate where a line of refugees waited, huddled against the morning chill. Guards in mismatched armor checked each person carefully before allowing entry. Some refugees were turned away, their protests fading as they shuffled back toward the wilderness.
"What are they looking for?" Leo asked, peering at the inspection.
"Infection," Hugo answered. "Bite marks. Scratch wounds. Anything that might turn someone."
As they joined the queue, Hugo noticed a guard staring at him. The man's hand tightened on his spear, eyes narrowing. Hugo pretended not to notice, but he felt the man's gaze follow him as the line inched forward.
When they reached the checkpoint, the guards stiffened. The captain, a weathered woman with a crossbow slung across her back. Stepped forward, hand resting on her sword hilt.
"Names and origin?" she demanded.
"Survivors from Greyhaven," Naomi answered. "We evacuated by boat two days ago."
The captain's eyes widened. "Greyhaven stands."
"Greyhaven fell," Hugo corrected flatly. "Overrun by undead. We're all that's left."
Silence fell over the checkpoint. Guards exchanged glances. The captain studied Hugo, her eyes lingering on his face.
"Your eyes," she said quietly. "What happened to them?"
Hugo felt the group tense behind him. Leo shifted nervously. Naomi stepped forward.
"He fought through the horde to save us," she said. "Without him, none of us would have made it. We've traveled two days without rest or proper food."
The captain hesitated, then nodded to her guards. "Check them for bites or scratches."
The inspection was thorough. Guards examined arms, legs, torsos for any sign of undead contamination. When one approached Hugo, the man's hands trembled.
"Something wrong with him," the guard muttered. "Don't like the look of him."
"I'm clean," Hugo said, voice cold.
The guard stepped back, swallowing hard. "Captain, I don't think—"
"Let them through," came an authoritative voice from behind the guards.
A broad-shouldered man approached wearing battered armor bearing campaign markings from the Eastern Front. His beard was cropped short, revealing a strong jawline and a faded scar across his left cheek. Steel blue eyes appraised the group, lingering on Hugo.
"Commander Hector," the captain said, straightening. "These refugees claim Greyhaven has fallen."
"Not claims. Facts," Hector replied. "I received messenger birds this morning. The city was overrun three nights ago." He turned to Hugo. "You survived the breach?"
Hugo nodded. "Barely."
"Bring them inside. Feed them. Then I want a full report."
The gates swung open. Hugo led the survivors through, feeling Hector's eyes on his back. Inside, the difference between New Greyhaven and the fallen city was stark. Buildings crowded together within the walls, constructed from whatever materials could be salvaged. People moved with purpose but tension marked their faces.
"This way," a guard directed them toward a mess hall.
As they walked, Hugo noticed the stark division in the settlement. The inner district featured sturdier buildings, better maintained, with small gardens and water cisterns. The outer rings consisted of makeshift shelters and tents. Children with hollow cheeks played in muddy alleys while their parents worked at communal tasks.
"The safe district and the slums," Naomi murmured beside him. "Some things never change."
In the mess hall, they received bowls of thin stew and hard bread. The survivors ate ravenously, but Hugo found he had little appetite. The souls he'd consumed seemed to sustain him differently now.
An hour later, they were escorted to a command building where Commander Hector waited in a room lined with maps. He dismissed the guards and closed the door.
"Tell me everything," Hector said, crossing his arms. "How did the walls fall? What were the undead numbers? Composition?"
Hugo described the final battle. The southeast breach, the wall collapse, the slaughter that followed. He omitted his transformation, saying only that he'd found survivors and led them to safety.
Hector listened intently, asking tactical questions, marking positions on a map of Old Greyhaven. When Hugo finished, the commander rubbed his beard.
"You've seen combat before," Hector observed.
"Four years. Eastern Front, then Greyhaven wall defense."
"Your unit?"
"Seventh Division, Second Company. Captain Merrin's squad."
Hector's expression softened slightly. "Merrin was good. Reliable."
"She died at the wall."
"And you survived." Hector's gaze drifted to Hugo's eyes. "Interesting."
Hugo felt a sudden prickle at the base of his skull. A cold sensation, familiar now. His awareness expanded downward, beneath the floorboards, past foundations, into the earth below the settlement.
Cold spots. Dozens of them. Moving slowly through darkness.
"Your walls," Hugo said suddenly. "How deep do the foundations go?"
Hector frowned. "Eight feet at the deepest points. Why?"
Hugo closed his eyes, focusing on the cold signatures. They were tunneling, a network of passages spreading beneath the city like roots. Faint wisps of soul-light clung to the diggers, remnants of humanity directing their purpose.
"You have an undead nest below the city," Hugo said, opening his eyes. "Tunneling. They're not mindless ones, these have purpose."
Hector stared. "That's impossible. We'd have detected—"
"They're forty feet down, moving slowly. Three main tunnels spreading from the north, converging toward the center. I count at least thirty diggers. Maybe more beyond my range."
Silence filled the room. Hector's hand moved to his sword hilt.
"How could you possibly know that?" he asked, voice deadly quiet.
Hugo met his gaze, knowing his pale-ringed eyes revealed too much. "I can sense them. Since Greyhaven fell."
"What are you?" Hector whispered.
"Something new," Hugo answered truthfully. "But right now, I'm your only warning. New Greyhaven has days, maybe a week before they breach from below. Just like Old Greyhaven. And I'm the only one who can feel them coming."
Hector's expression hardened into calculation as he processed this revelation, weighing the threat against the unknown creature standing before him. Hugo watched the commander's eyes and saw the moment decision formed.
"Prove it," Hector said.