Thorne
The horn echoed through Morvalis like the dying scream of some colossal, ancient beast awakening from centuries of slumber.
Low.
Violent.
Unnatural.
It tore through the dense forest canopy with such raw power that every muscle in my body tensed on pure instinct, adrenaline surging through my exhausted veins once more. Even after everything we had barely survived through that endless night, the relentless Blood Ants, Ivy's sudden and shocking death, the suffocating fear that had crawled under everyone's skin like a second layer of darkness, that single sound still managed to make the air feel impossibly heavier, thicker, more oppressive.
And I hated it.
I hated that Morvalis had already conditioned us so thoroughly to expect monsters behind every unfamiliar sound, every shift in the shadows, every whisper carried on the wind.
But before the horn had shattered the fragile silence…
Before the night's hard-won calm had been ripped away…
