*tshhhhhh…
The sound of hissing and distant wails echoed faintly through the fog, twisting and distorting as if the mist itself carried the cries of the dead.
The noises came from no clear direction—sometimes close enough to make hearts skip, other times distant and drawn out, like the sorrowful howls of things that had long forgotten life.
Each cry clawed at the nerves of those who marched, crawling into their ears and refusing to leave.
*Fwooosh!
The wind that followed was cold—unnaturally cold—seeping through armor and fabric like the breath of death itself.
It whispered across their skin, spelling their fate in silence.
Here, there was no warmth, no trace of life.
The very air felt wrong, stripped of hope, heavy with decay.
This was the Umbral Veil—a land where death reigned supreme, where the living were unwelcome, and where the earth itself seemed to mourn.
Nothing less, and nothing more.
Despite the creeping dread, the soldiers remained disciplined.
*thud! *crunch! *thud! *crunch! *thud! *crunch!
They marched beside the vehicles in formation, their boots thudding softly against the dead soil.
Every man and woman kept their eyes wide and weapons ready, scanning the shifting fog for any sign of movement.
Even the smallest sound—a distant crack, a rustle, or a faint shift in the air—made their fingers tighten on their triggers, the tension so sharp it could almost be felt.
The threat of eidra beasts ambushing them was constant, and everyone knew that a single mistake could mean corruption or death.
"So far, so good," Rox muttered from inside the lead vehicle, her voice muffled slightly through her helmet.
The faint glow of her visor reflected against the interior panels as she scanned the monitors for eidric signatures.
Her sensors were tuned specifically for the kind of energy she had encountered before—the twisted necrotic eidra that clung to corrupted beasts.
So far, the readings were stable, but her instincts told her it wouldn't stay that way for long.
"Mhm," Gelhyne responded with a quiet hum, arms crossed as her eyes remained fixed forward.
The faint blue light from the lanterns outside painted soft reflections across her white cloak.
After a moment, her gaze drifted toward Rox.
"So… you are a child of a noble?" she asked calmly, her tone steady yet curious. "Yet you lack eidra. Odd."
Her words weren't meant to insult—they were a statement of genuine curiosity.
"Look at you, starting a conversation. Usually, that's my job," Rox said with a faint smirk, her tone carrying a trace of surprise.
For a moment, her gaze lingered on Gelhyne before drifting off, her eyes growing distant—as though they were reaching into the depths of a memory she wished she could bury.
"I lack eidra because I was experimented on since I was a child…" she continued quietly, her voice losing its usual playfulness.
She stared down at her fingers, checking her nails out of habit, before curling her hand into a tight fist.
The motion trembled slightly. "Project Chaosbreed. You've heard of it, I assume?"
"Of course," Gelhyne answered immediately, her tone sharpening.
"Ninety-five percent fatality rate. The project designed to create individuals capable of channeling the power of the Umbral Veil itself—living weapons, stripped of mortality and reason… Tools of war. Nothing less, nothing more."
Her eyes softened, though only barely. "I never thought I'd actually meet one."
Rox gave a hollow chuckle and clapped her hands once, forcing a grin that didn't reach her eyes.
"Heh, you really do know your stuff, huh?" she said,
*sigh…
then sighed and leaned her head back against the seat.
"I'm the only survivor of that cursed failure. My eidra—snapped out of existence. They tried to replace it with something stronger, something… filtered from the Veil itself."
For a brief moment, silence settled between them, broken only by the hum of the vehicle's engine. Rox turned her head, studying Gelhyne quietly.
There was something in her eyes—recognition.
Pain she didn't need to explain.
"My parents rebelled," Rox said after a pause, her voice heavier now.
"They wanted to save me. Said the Empire had stolen my birthright… my soul…"
"And so they were branded traitors and executed," Gelhyne finished softly, her voice low but steady, already knowing how the story ended.
Rox nodded slowly, her jaw tightening.
"In. Front. Of. Me." She struck her chest with each word—three heavy thumps that echoed faintly inside the cabin.
"Every damn word they spoke before the end still haunts me."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Rox leaned back into her seat, the metal creaking faintly beneath her weight.
The rhythmic hum of the engine was steady and dull, but her gaze was distant—locked somewhere far beyond the mist-covered horizon ahead.
Her expression, normally playful and teasing, had hardened into something colder, something heavy with buried emotion.
"That's why I'll never forgive them," she muttered under her breath, her voice quiet but edged with venom.
"That's why I escaped. All that sucking up, all those years of being their obedient little experiment... and for what? To end up right here again—just another prisoner, just another captive situation wearing a different name."
Across from her, Gelhyne crossed her arms, raising an unimpressed brow.
Her posture remained straight, commanding, but there was a faint softening in her tone as she replied,
"You do realize I'm not treating you like a slave, right?"
Rox immediately perked up, waving her hands dramatically.
"Of coourse, of cooourse," she said, dragging the word out with exaggerated surrender, both palms raised as if caught red-handed.
"I'm just saying, it's not every day you get to serve such a cutie like you!"
Her grin widened, teasing, almost cartoonish—but her eyes flickered with a brief, genuine warmth as she looked at Gelhyne.
Beneath the joking tone and overacted gestures, there was truth.
She did find Gelhyne attractive—not just in appearance, but in the quiet way she carried herself, the sharp confidence that contrasted Rox's own chaotic nature.
Still, she'd never admit that out loud of course.
"Haha," Gelhyne replied dryly, her laugh short and hollow.
She rolled her eyes and turned her gaze back forward, though the corner of her lips threatened to twitch upward.
For a short while, the air between them felt calm, almost serene.
The faint vibrations of the engine, the soft hiss of the mist scraping against the hull—it almost lulled them into a rare sense of peace amid the dread of the Umbral Veil.
It was a fragile moment of stillness in a place that offered none.
*bzzt!
Then it broke.
"Commander," came General Voxtrom's voice, deep and grave, just behind them, opening the slide window as he continued to look at the datapad on his arm.
"There have been reports from the rear. Some of the soldiers are… hearing voices. They say the whispers are coming from everywhere." His tone was tense.
Gelhyne's composure stiffened immediately.
The ease in her posture vanished as she tapped her wristpad, her eyes narrowing while she accessed the command channel.
"Gerav," she called, her voice sharp and precise, "go to Vehicle 15 and inspect what's happening. If you fail to contact me within ten minutes, I'll assume the situation has gone wrong."
"At once," replied Gerav through the comms.
*bzt
The transmission crackled before cutting off, followed by a faint vibration that suggested his vehicle had sped toward the back of the formation.
"Voices?" Rox repeated, her voice low, recognition as she had experienced these before.
Her expression darkened as she stared out into the shifting fog beyond the reinforced window.
Then, with a dry chuckle that failed to hide her tension, she muttered,
"So it begins… the mist's fuckery, that is."
Outside, the fog seemed to pulse faintly—as if it had heard her words and was amused by them.