Approaching the makeshift tent, I noticed Ella and Emily fashioning a stretcher from sturdy vines as Benjamin looked on with a complicated expression.
"How are you feeling?" I asked gently, not sure what else to say.
He hesitated for a moment, then replied, "I'll live, and I suppose that's what matters most right now." Despite his attempt at reassurance, I could hear the hollowness behind his words.
Trying to lighten the mood, I forced a smile. "Well… on the bright side, you get to be carried around like royalty now."
That earned the faintest smirk. "Carried, huh? I guess there's some upside to it." Then his gaze shifted, a bit more serious. "Anyway, how's your arm? Turn a bit so I can see how well it healed."
Sighing, I twisted toward him. Peeling back the bandages, only to blink in surprise at the already healed skin, leaving nothing but a scar as a reminder of what I'd lost.
"That's amazing," he marveled. "What I would give to be able to bring something like this back to Earth. It would help so many people."
That was a nice way of thinking about it, but I doubted something like this would ever end up in the hands of the people who actually needed it.
Once we were ready, we made our way toward the crater, hoping to find anything worth salvaging. Maybe even a core for one of us.
However, long before the destruction itself came into view, the smell hit us.
A putrid stench that seemed to seep into everything.
"Oh man, that reeks," Henry scowled, covering his nose to no avail.
Looking around, I winced as though the smell itself was eating away at my eyes, noting the smaller creatures scurrying between the corpses around us, feasting on the fallen beasts without a care for the overwhelming decay.
Though they weren't the only ones unbothered.
"Ella, that's gruesome," Emily said with clear disgust as Ella approached one of the corpses and began cutting into it with the void knife I had given her.
Ella simply shrugged off Emily's comment. "How else am I going to find a core? We need to check if there's an intact one."
However, her optimism was short-lived. A second later, disappointment shadowed her features as she lifted the cracked husk of a core. It had shattered within, glittering fragments spilling between her fingers.
"I'll have to find an intact one," Ella muttered, a little disheartened. Still, she pushed on, moving to the next corpse with steady determination.
I let her work. The mecarb rhythm of her search wasn't something I wanted to dwell on, while I made my way almost without thinking toward the center of the crater. Where the silver stone loomed, untouched by the chaos all around it.
Up close, it looked even stranger. I reached out, running my fingers along its cold, smooth surface. This thing had fallen from the sky, slammed into the earth hard enough to carve a crater this big. And yet it didn't even bear a scratch.
Inside, there was nothing left of the monster.
Just emptiness.
Still, that wasn't the part that unsettled me the most. The interior wasn't jagged or torn apart like I had expected. But formed into a perfect circle, almost as if something had been carved out with the precision of a machine.
But why would something like that house such a monster? What was the point?
The core had called it an "apocalypse-class beast." But was that a name? Or some kind of ranking system the cores used?
And more importantly… how could a core even know what it was?
The more I thought about it, the worse it got. Every answer only spun off two more questions, circling tighter and tighter in my head until it felt like a vice clamped around my temples. Maybe it was the questions. Maybe it was just the foul stench of blood and ash still hanging in the air. Either way, a headache bloomed behind my eyes.
I pulled my hand back and turned away. Enough. I'd drive myself mad trying to unravel this here.
When I looked ahead, Ella had already gathered a small pile of intact cores, neatly stacked in a pile, and was back at it, picking through the corpses like she was sifting through rubble.
But none of the cores responded. Not to her. Not to anyone. Just empty stones, as far as we were concerned.
Reluctantly, I joined in the grim task. Not because I wanted to, but because the sooner we found something, the sooner we could get out of this pit. The stench alone was enough to make me gag. Bugs buzzed around the heaps of rotting flesh, and bile rose in my throat at the thought of touching any of it.
So I cheated.
I summoned the void to my hand, shaping it into a simple glove that reached far up my arm to the point where nothing would be able to touch me.
Even so, the work was slow, and the pile of intact cores kept growing with nothing to show for it.
I was about ready to give up when Emily's voice rang out, bright with excitement, like a child about to open a Christmas present.
"Yes! I found one!"
All of us turned.
She was kneeling beside a collapsed mass of flesh, half-buried in gore. With both hands, she pointed to a core lodged deep inside. Unlike the others, this one pulsed with a mesmerizing blend of pale blue and soft green, shifting like ripples across water.
The creature it had come from was unrecognizable, reduced to little more than sludge and bone. But the core… the core was alive.
The moment her fingers brushed its surface, the glow intensified, wrapping her in its radiance. Then, like ice melting under sunlight, the core liquefied and seeped into her skin, dissolving into nothing.
Emily gasped, then squealed with pure delight. The glow reflected in her pupils as she turned to us, practically trembling with joy.
"I'm level one," she blurted, the words tumbling out all at once. "My stats are all around average right now, which is fine, I mean, obviously, but the exciting part is my skills. I got two of them! Telekinesis and something called Wind's Protection. I haven't gotten any titles yet, but still!"
"Whoa, whoa, slow down," Henry said, waving his hands. "You've got telekinesis? Like… move-stuff-with-your-mind telekinesis?"
Emily nodded eagerly. "I think so! I haven't tried it yet. I mean, I don't even know how to try it, but just the name alone… it's exactly what I hoped for."
"That's insane," he said, clearly impressed. "You're gonna be terrifying once you figure that out."
Emily smiled, eyes bright with anticipation, but said nothing more. She glanced at her hand like she half-expected something magical to just happen, but the moment passed in silence.
While she quietly mulled over the possibilities, the rest of us continued checking the corpses for anything useful. Unfortunately, by the time we finished with the last body, there wasn't a single core for Ella or Benjamin.
Henry, on the other hand, didn't wait for the final verdict. He scrambled up the incline of the pit, loose soil and small rocks slipping beneath his feet as he climbed.
The moment he reached the top, he threw his arms wide and took an exaggerated breath.
"Finally… fresh air!"
"Henry!" Amelia barked from below. "Get back down here and help me carry Benjamin out!"
"Oh–right! Sorry!" he called, spinning around so fast he lost his footing. With a yelp, he slid back down the slope in a shower of dust and landed with a grunt beside her.
"Nice job," she muttered dryly.
"Totally meant to do that," he smirked, brushing dirt off his arms and moving to lift Benjamin. "Anyways, let's get him out of here."
Together, they hoisted Benjamin carefully and began the slow climb. I reached down and helped Ella as she neared the top, making sure her footing was steady.
Once we were all out, I paused to take a deep breath. The air up here felt clean, almost refreshing after the rot and dampness below.
Emily stood near the edge, still quiet, staring at her hands with wide, thoughtful eyes.
"Try it when we're somewhere safe," I said gently. "You'll have time."
She gave a small nod, the corners of her mouth lifting.
"All right," Amelia said, stepping forward and brushing dirt from her pants. "Let's keep moving."
Slowly guiding the group, I headed toward where I'd last seen the shadow. Fortunately, it matched the direction of the radio signal, so I didn't have to waste breath convincing anyone to follow.
Yet as we walked, my mind kept drifting back to Emily's powers. Sure, telekinesis was a cool ability, but was there any real protection it could provide? And what were the limits?
Reaching down, I scooped up a small rock, rolling its weight in my palm.
"Alright," I muttered, half to myself, "let's see what you can do."
Overhearing me, Emily blinked. "Wait, what?"
With a flick of my finger, I tossed it lightly toward her.
I didn't even have time to brace for what happened next.
The rock snapped back at me faster than my eyes could track, smacking into my forehead with a sharp crack. A burst of air followed, whipping my hair back and nearly knocking me off balance.
"Gah!" I staggered, clutching my face. Of course. Brilliant idea, Atlas. Test the psychic by throwing rocks at her. Genius.
Ahead of me, Emily stared for half a second before bursting into laughter at the massive bruise forming on my forehead. Henry joined in, having watched the whole thing with an amused smirk.
But even while nursing a bruised ego and a throbbing forehead, I couldn't help but laugh with them.
"Did you use telekinesis?" I asked.
Emily shook her head, still smiling. "No. That actually wasn't me. I think it was my wind protection."
Before I could respond, another rock lifted from the ground behind me and shot toward me. But with her lack of control, the stone only managed to whiz past my head and disappear into the forest.
"Oh, so close," I mocked.
Scowling, she redoubled her efforts, only to find it was a lot harder to control than Amelia made it seem.
Yet she still managed to keep a clear head, even when things derailed. Eventually, she managed to lift a cluster of small stones around her, wobbling unevenly at first before circling in slow, shaky loops. Every so often, one would drop back to the ground, only for her to frown and lift it again.
"Careful," Ella said, eyeing one of the floating stones. "Some of us still like our eyesight, so maybe try not to hit us?"
"I'm trying," Emily muttered, though it didn't help her case when one nearly smacked into Henry.
"Hey, watch it!" he yelped.
"Sorry…"
As the hours passed, her practice slowly faded into the background while we dealt with the ever-thickening forest, forcing us to duck, climb, or shove things out of the way.
Eventually, even walking became a fight.
Frustrated by our slow progress, we opted for a more direct approach.
Clearing a path.
Amelia moved ahead, molten rock gathering at her command, but I quickly had to step in beside her, using my blades to hack through the thicker branches and vines she couldn't burn without risking the whole forest catching fire.
"Doesn't that exhaust you?" I asked, catching up to her while she shaped another line of molten stone through the undergrowth.
She grinned, her eyes gleaming with determination. "It's like building muscle. The more you use it, the stronger and more enduring it becomes. It's good practice."
"Just don't push yourself too hard," I cautioned.
"Don't worry, I'll give you a heads-up when I start feeling the burn," she reassured with a nod.
As we pushed deeper into the thick forest, it became clear that something violent had happened here. All around us, trees lay scorched, as if something had taken a flamethrower to them, while twisted vines had grown over everything like they were trying to smother the aftermath out of existence.
It also didn't help that the forest itself seemed determined to make our lives miserable.
For every vine I hacked apart, three more seemed to take its place. Branches snagged at my clothes, roots threatened to trip me every other step, and the undergrowth was so dense it felt like walking through something alive.
Seriously, how was there this much foliage?
By the end of it, I was barely even aiming anymore, just swinging wildly at every wall of green in front of me in the desperate hope something would finally stay cut.
Then, at last, the forest actually gave way.
One final slash parted the vines—
And instead of greenery, I found myself staring into the glossy, serpent-like eyes that stared back at me from the shadows, and before I could even react, it lunged.
Its teeth clamped down onto my right arm as I instinctively threw it up to protect my neck. For a moment, I was too stunned to even feel the pain as I stared at the thing latched onto me.
It was a bizarre fusion of serpent and bird, with four wings, feathered scales, and a jaw that glowed with an inner fire.
For half a heartbeat, I just stared, stunned at the sight of it.
Then its jaws glowed brighter. Heat swelled, building in its throat, and suddenly I was engulfed in flames, a torrent of searing heat wrapping me in a suffocating furnace.
"Ah shit."
Shielding my eyes, I frantically tried to block the flames, my mind too stunned to do anything but fumble around in the embrace of fire. But when my thoughts finally snapped into place, I willed the void to my rescue, forming a shield around my arm to divert the blast away from my face.
But with every second, my arm only baked further, cooking alive inside a barrier of my own making.
With only one thing coming to mind, I snarled and shoved as much power as I could into my arm. Energy cracked and sizzled through the serpent's maw, causing it to shriek, its body convulsing as the current ripped through it until its jaws snapped open, trying to flee.
But I didn't let go.
I clamped down harder, fury burning hotter than the fire scorching my skin, and forced another surge through it. Sparks lit the clearing as it writhed, eyes wide with terror.
Seeing that it couldn't escape, it tried to lash back at me, but I was quicker. I shaped a spike from the shield and drove it through the serpent's neck.
Its body seized, wings shuddering violently, until finally it went limp, sliding off my shield and onto the forest floor.
Following suit, I slid to the ground, sucking in lungfuls of air. For a long moment, I just stared down at its blackened husk with a blank expression, until Henry let out a nervous chuckle.
"You're kinda scary sometimes, you know that, man?"
I couldn't help but chuckle despite the pain radiating from my burns. "Is that so? Well, if you don't mind, I'm going to sit here for a while," I breathed, only to flinch when I moved the wrong way.
Grimacing, Emily moved closer. "Would you like me to cool your burns down?"
I nodded gratefully. "Yes. I would appreciate that."
A moment later, a gentle breeze brushed across my skin, and I closed my eyes, letting myself breathe while everyone began preparing camp for the long night ahead.
A little while later, Benjamin called me over, only to greet me with a strange plant he had pulled from his bag.
"What is that?" I asked, puzzled.
"I found it a couple of days ago, but it should help with burns," he explained. Breaking it open, he extracted some of the slimy goo, then paused, looking up at me almost expectantly.
"What?" I asked.
"I'd appreciate it if you got lower down. You know I can't stand," he said.
"Oh, sorry," I chuckled.
"Who are you laughing at?" he retorted, smacking my burns.
"Ouch, don't smack it!" I yelped.
"Don't laugh about my injury," he said with a smile that shifted into a coughing fit.
"Okay, I'll stop joking. Wouldn't want you dying on us," I promised.
He rubbed the substance onto my burns, and after a moment, the pain began to ease. It felt even better, almost heavenly, when Emily used her skill on me again.
Yet as night fell and the forest closed in around us, every attempt at finding comfort turned into its own little nightmare. The absence of my left arm made even the smallest movement awkward, and every time I tried to roll over, fresh waves of agony shot through my burned body as the wounds scraped against the pelt beneath me.
Eventually, defeated, I gave up and settled into a stone chair beside the fire, where I was soon joined.
"Mind if I sit?"
I looked up.
Amelia stood across the fire, already shaping a second chair beside mine with a subtle flick of her hand. Her expression was unreadable, but quieter than usual.
"Go ahead," I murmured.
She sat, brushing a loose curl from her face as the firelight played across her features. For a while, we didn't speak. The crackling of the flames filled the silence between us before she softly spoke up."How are you holding up?"
"Well, like crap," I said plainly.
"Not about that—" she began, but I cut her off.
"I know, I know." I exhaled, leaning back as much as my injuries allowed. "Honestly? I don't even know. Feels like my head's still trying to catch up to everything. The powers. Losing Owen and Ethan. The fighting. Some moments I think I'm fine… and then I move wrong and…yeah."
She gave a quiet nod. "Yeah. I get that."
Her gaze drifted to the fire. "I don't know how we're even still functioning. Half the time it feels like I'm just waiting for something else to go wrong."
"Ya, no kidding. It's been rough," I sighed. Losing my arm was one thing, but then Benjamin's injury… it was a lot.
"Honestly? I'm concerned about everything, and how, in every encounter, we're utterly unprepared for it," she muttered, slouching a little. "I've been thinking… maybe it's time we slow down."
I looked at her, a bit surprised. That wasn't something she'd normally say.
"I know how it might sound," she went on, "but I think it could help. We could set up a more permanent camp, maybe even fortify it. It wouldn't hurt. Everyone needs a break. I know people want to reach the city, but if we keep pushing forward this unprepared, what's the point if half of us don't make it?"
She wasn't wrong. We all needed time to breathe, especially with Benjamin. All this traveling wasn't doing him any favors. "I get it," I muttered. "With Benjamin down, and not knowing whether he'll ever walk again… we need to take some time."
She nodded. "It's not just him, either. I'm worried about Emily."
"Emily?" I asked, confused. "What about her?"
Amelia didn't answer right away. Her eyes stayed on the fire, watching the flames bend and snap in the dark.
"Do you know about the Ashfall Event?"
I frowned. "Everyone knows about Ashfall. One of the worst structural collapses in recorded history."
"She was there," Amelia said quietly.
I looked toward Emily.
She was curled beneath a blanket at the edge of the firelight, her back turned to us, one arm tucked under her head like she was already asleep.
"She was one of the survivors?" I asked.
Amelia nodded once. "One of the children they pulled from the lower tunnels."
I didn't know what to say to that. I'd heard the stories. Everyone had. But I had never pictured Emily there.
Not Emily, with her easy smile and bright laugh and the way she always made everything seem lighter than it was.
"She seems so…" I stopped myself before I said fine. The word felt cruel the second it reached my tongue.
Amelia glanced at me anyway, like she knew exactly where I'd been going.
"That's what she wants people to see."
I looked back at Emily, guilt tightening in my chest.
"She hides it well," Amelia continued. "Too well, sometimes. But I've seen it. The way she freezes when the walls get too close. How her hands shake after a cave-in or a bad landing. How quickly she smiles when someone notices, like she's trying to convince them before they can ask."
The fire cracked softly between us.
"This mission has been hard on all of us," Amelia said. "But with her… It's different. Losing Owen was bad enough. Now all of this?" She shook her head, her voice dropping lower. "It's dragging things back up. Things she's spent years trying to bury."
I tossed another log onto the flames and watched sparks spiral upward, vanishing into the night.
"I'm not really… great at this sort of thing," I admitted, keeping my eyes on the fire. "Supporting people. I've seen a lot of death. I've gotten used to it, probably more than I should have. Between the army and my childhood…"
Amelia glanced at me, waiting.
I didn't give her anything else.
"I never know what to say," I continued. "But sometimes it's not about the words. Sometimes just being there matters more."
She let out a faint laugh. "You got that from Ella, didn't you?"
I smirked. "Yeah. You caught me."
We sat in silence again, watching the fire chew through the new log. The heat was steady, comforting in a distant way, but the woods around us felt like they were holding their breath.
After a long pause, Amelia spoke again, softer this time.
"You mentioned your childhood earlier. I don't want to pry, but… what did you mean?"
I hesitated, my gaze drifting up to the unfamiliar stars.
They were easier to look at than her.
"It's not something I talk about much," I said finally.
Amelia didn't press. She just waited, giving me the space to decide whether I wanted to say anything at all.
"I was in the system," I said at last. "Foster care. Since I was four, but I don't really remember much before that."
Something in her expression shifted, but she stayed quiet.
I shifted in my seat, shrugging with one shoulder. "Never stayed anywhere long. Some homes were fine. Some… not so much. Either way, they never lasted."
The fire popped between us.
I left out the rest. The homes that ended in tragedy. The whispers that followed me. The way people started to look at me after a while, like I was something they had let inside by mistake.
"I learned not to expect much," I went on. "Got good at leaving before I got too comfortable."
Amelia's eyes stayed on me for a moment longer than I liked.
"That sounds lonely," she said.
I almost laughed, but it didn't quite make it out.
"Yeah," I admitted. "I guess it was."
She looked down at the fire, her fingers tightening around her sleeve. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
I nodded once. "It was a long time ago."
"Doesn't always matter," she said quietly.
I didn't have an answer for that.
For a while, neither of us said anything. The fire crackled steadily, chewing through the fresh log as embers drifted upward like fading stars. Somewhere beyond the trees, something moved through the dark, but it was distant enough that I didn't reach for my weapon.
Amelia rubbed at her eyes and let out a tired breath.
"I think I'm actually going to try and get some sleep," she said, standing with a slow stretch. "You okay to keep watch for a bit?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Not like I'm sleeping much anyway."
She gave me a look at that, like she wanted to say something else, but thought better of it.
"Try to rest when you can," she said. "Even if it's just for a little while."
"I'll think about it."
"That usually means no."
I smirked faintly. "Maybe."
Her mouth curved into a tired smile. "Goodnight, Atlas."
"Night."
She lingered for half a second longer, then turned and slipped into the shadows, her footsteps fading into the underbrush.
I stayed by the fire, watching the place where she had disappeared, then looked back up at the strange stars overhead.
For some reason, they felt farther away than before.
I leaned back in the stone chair, letting the fire's warmth settle into my skin as the forest pressed close around camp. My thoughts drifted back to what she'd said about Emily, how much she'd been carrying, how many signs I'd missed. For Amelia to worry that much… it said something.
But even as I thought about that, there was something Amelia hadn't considered. Something this world had given Emily, too. I'd seen it every time she used her powers, that bright spark in her eyes. The way she tried to lift herself off the ground, as if with just a little more strength she might actually fly and escape everything weighing her down.
And in a strange way, that applied to me too.
This world had taken so much from us, but it had given just as much, maybe more.
I felt it in the strength gathering in my hand, enough to crush stone. In the speed that surged through my legs when I ran. In the way, the very air felt charged.
This world was so much more than Amelia gave it credit for…
In the morning, the enticing aroma of sizzling meat jolted me awake. "What's that smell?" I called out.
"It's bug meat!" Ella's enthusiastic response echoed back. "Ugh…" I grumbled. Rubbing my eyes, only to behold the surprise that awaited me. A fire blazing in the middle of a round table, surrounded by stone skewers adorned with cooking meat. "Wow, Amelia, how long did this take to set up?" I asked, genuinely surprised.
"Not too long. I just thought it might be nice to have a decent breakfast," Amelia replied, pouring water into rock cups.
After an enjoyable breakfast, we decided to stay in that location for a couple of days to get our bearings straight. By the end of the first day, Amelia had erected stone walls after discovering the area was infested with fire snakes, which I had named, as Ella had already given them a different moniker in her journal. With each passing day, we gradually became more comfortable with our surroundings.
"So, Benjamin, what are you sketching?" I inquired as he sat back, engrossed in his journal.
"It's a secret," he said with a mischievous grin.
"Oh, come on, tell me!" I complained, attempting to peek at his sketch.
"You'll know when I finish," he teased, shielding it from my prying eyes.
"Trying to hide something, are we?" I playfully wiggled my eyebrows.
He let out a laugh that was cut short by a sudden cough. It started small but quickly turned rough. He covered his mouth with his hand, and when he pulled it away, I saw the faint trace of red.
"Benjamin…" I stepped closer. "Are you alright?"
"Don't start," he said sharply. "It's nothing."
"That's blood," I hissed. "You're pushing yourself too hard. Maybe we should stay another night–"
"No," he said quickly, his voice firm despite the strain. "We need to keep moving. That ruined city we saw from the ridge. If there's anything out here that can help us, it's there."
I hesitated. "You really think we'll find something?"
"I don't just think it," he said, locking eyes with me. "I know it's a chance. We're low on supplies, half of us are injured or recovering, and we don't even understand half the threats in this place. But that city... someone built it. And if they survived here, maybe they left something behind that can give us a real shot."
I looked around our makeshift camp, the stone walls, the burn marks, the constant creature attacks.
He wasn't wrong.
"But what about you?" I asked. "You're not okay. What happens if we keep going and you get worse?"
He shook his head. "Then I'll be worse at the steps of something that might save us. That's better than rotting in this snake-infested pit, hoping for a miracle that's never coming."
His words hit harder than I expected. There was no anger in them, just tired conviction.
I gave a slow nod. "Alright. I'll talk to the others."
He managed a weak smile. "Thanks."
We packed up camp not long after and pushed back into the forest. The flying snakes were relentless, darting through the trees in bursts of fire and fury, but we pressed on. I took a few more burns along the way, but with Emily's help, the pain dulled enough to keep moving. Oddly, the wounds healed faster than I expected, small victories in an otherwise losing battle.
For two more days, the forest grew denser, more suffocating. The snakes came in greater numbers, and the tightly packed trees forced us to chop our way forward. Each step felt like a fight. The thought of turning back flickered in my mind more than once, but we'd come too far, so with the city just beyond the canopy, we kept moving.
Yet as the days passed, Benjamin's condition only worsened.
The fever hadn't faded. If anything, it had only gotten stronger. Each day, his breathing grew more strained, his skin paler, his movements slower. He barely spoke. The occasional cough turned into long, rattling fits that left him hunched over, trembling.
It became clear we were running out of time.
That's when Amelia changed.
Gone was the measured, deliberate pace she usually kept. Instead, she pushed harder, faster, cutting through underbrush with increasing urgency. She barely slept, barely ate. It was like she believed that if she could just get us to the city, everything would be okay. That maybe we could save him.
But her drive came at a cost.
By the third day, she stumbled more than once. Her breathing turned ragged, and the circles under her eyes deepened. Then she slipped on a damp root during a steep descent and slammed her shoulder hard against a rock. She brushed it off with gritted teeth, but I could tell she was hurt.
We tried to keep pace, but hope was thinning. The forest, once overwhelming in its chaos, now felt like a prison slowly tightening around us.
That night, Benjamin looked worse than ever. He lay on his side, drenched in sweat, eyes half-lidded and unfocused. I sat beside him, struggling with the words.
"It's getting worse, Benjamin," I said quietly, the fire casting flickering shadows across his face. "We should head back…find something, anything, that might help."
He gave me a tired smile, weak but sincere. "I appreciate it. But going back won't save me. If there's something that can help, it's in that city."
Amelia turned sharply at that, her voice breaking with desperation. "Then we move. We push through this forest, and we get there. We're close, I know we're close."
"We can't keep going like this," I said, glancing between them. "You're running yourself into the ground, and Benjamin... he can't even sit up anymore."
Benjamin surprised us all by speaking up, his voice steadier than it had been all day. "We're stopping here," he said. "Just for a while. We need rest. All of us."
Amelia looked like she might argue, but the strain in her expression cracked. Her shoulders slumped, and for a moment, she looked just as lost as the rest of us. "I can't just sit here and do nothing," she whispered, fists clenched at her sides.
"You're not," Benjamin said gently. "But if we fall apart now, we'll never make it."
His words sank into the silence that followed, heavy and undeniable.
So we stopped.
And in that quiet, as the forest creaked and whispered around us, we were left with nothing but fading strength and the fragile hope that the ruined city, still unseen, would be worth the price we were paying to reach it.
While setting up camp, Emily and Ella tended to Benjamin while the mood lingered somber, disturbed only by his frequent coughing. As the hours passed, Amelia, grappling with her own thoughts, ventured into the forest alone, returning exhausted after attempting to create a path. My mind swirled with thoughts as I observed Benjamin's deteriorating condition, knowing that there was little we could do. As night descended, sleep eluded me, burdened by the weight of Benjamin's fragile health.
The hazy morning was broken by Ella's piercing scream—jolting me from the fog of fatigue. My body moved before my mind could catch up, my boots crunching against the damp earth as I ran toward the sound. Ella was on her knees over Benjamin's still form, her movements frantic as she pressed down on his chest in a desperate attempt at CPR.
I stopped short, my breath caught in my throat. His face was pale, his eyes shut, and his body unnaturally motionless. I couldn't bring myself to take another step.
Amelia arrived a moment later, her face carved from stone, but her hands shook as she crouched beside Ella and gently took over. Her composure was brittle, held together by sheer will. Deep down, though, we all knew. Benjamin had been gone for hours.
Time seemed to bend around us. The air grew heavy, pressing down like an invisible weight, and the earth beneath my feet quivered as if sharing in the grief that hung in the air. I blinked, and for a moment, it felt as though the fabric of reality itself rippled, distorting the edges of my vision. A faint hum buzzed in my ears, almost like static, and then–
The mark on my neck burned faintly, sending a pulse through my body. A low vibration hummed in sync with the distortion, each pulse eroding the clarity of my thoughts. My hand instinctively moved to touch it, but as soon as my fingers brushed the mark, Benjamin's form began to blur.
The details of his face twisted, smearing like ink washed away by water. A dull ache pressed against my mind as I felt something slipping, memories dissolving into nothingness. The harder I tried to focus on him, the more elusive he became.
His features faded into shadow, then darkness, until there was nothing left but a void. The memory of his face, his voice, his laugh, it all slipped through my fingers. My chest tightened, a hollow emptiness filling the space where Benjamin's memory had once been.
I blinked hard, struggling to anchor myself. Why was Amelia on the ground? Why was Ella crying? My heart thudded in my chest as confusion twisted in my gut. Someone had…
Someone had died.
The realization struck like a bolt of lightning, tearing through the haze. My gaze snapped back to the group, Amelia's trembling hands, Ella's silent tears carving paths down her cheeks, and Henry standing rigid, his fists clenched. But when I looked at the figure lying motionless on the ground, a strange emptiness filled me. No matter how hard I stared, I couldn't place him; his face was a void, black and featureless in my mind.
Amelia's voice cut through the oppressive silence like a blade. I barely caught the tail end of her response to a question I hadn't heard. "I'm not burying him in this fucking place." Each word trembled with a restrained fury, her voice rasping under the weight of her grief.
Without waiting for a response, she lifted her hand. The ground trembled slightly, and with a sharp flick of her wrist, stone rose and encased the body in a crude but solid coffin. The sound of grinding rock echoed briefly before fading into the stillness.
Amelia straightened slowly, her movements jerky as though held together by sheer willpower. Her shoulders were taut, her frame rigid with unspoken emotion. "I need to get out of this place," she muttered, the words slipping from her lips in a strained whisper. Her eyes remained fixed ahead as she turned and started down the path she'd carved the day before, the stone coffin floating silently behind her.
The group remained rooted in place, stunned into a heavy silence. The air felt weighted, thick with unspoken grief. Henry shifted beside me, his body tensing as he took a hesitant step forward, clearly ready to follow.
I reached out and placed a firm hand on his shoulder, stopping him mid-stride. When he turned to me, his expression torn, I simply shook my head. No words were necessary. He hesitated for a moment before relenting, his gaze dropping to the ground.
I turned to the others, my chest tight as I took them in. Ella stood a few paces away, wiping at her tear-streaked face with trembling hands. Her eyes were distant, staring at something none of us could see. Nearby, Emily sat slumped against a tree, her knees drawn to her chest as she rocked slightly. Mumbled words spilled from her lips, unintelligible and frantic, her fingers clutching the fabric of her sleeves as though grounding herself.
No one spoke as if the weight of loss had stolen every sound from the world.