They'd been walking for so long the forest had started to look like the inside of a dream—endless gray trunks, fog curling low like smoke.
Every step sounded the same. Every breath felt borrowed.
Soren led the front, still carrying Atlas on his back. The seer had gone limp hours ago, face the color of parchment, sweat beading along his jaw. Soren didn't look strained. His shadow did the work — stretching ahead of him, slipping through the trees like a scout, splitting and reforming as it mapped the path before them. Sometimes Ezra caught sight of it — too long, too sharp, like a different thing entirely.
It made his skin crawl a little. Shadows weren't supposed to move like that.
Rowan followed close behind, fingers brushing bark every few steps, listening with that strange focus of his. Sometimes the ground shivered when he did it — a low, dull pulse that made Ezra's stomach twist.
Cassian was a few paces ahead, quiet as ever, every movement tight and deliberate. He hadn't spoken all morning.
Ezra tried not to think about it, about any of them. Tried to focus on something he could control.
So he started counting.
Rowan. Soren. Atlas. Cassian. Nora. Rin. Varik. Milo. Mara. The limping man. The quiet woman. The three younger recruits…
He paused, squinting into the fog.
That's fifteen? No—sixteen. Should be sixteen. But…
He frowned, whispering the list again under his breath. The rhythm felt wrong, like a song missing a note. Someone was missing. He could feel the absence more than he could name it—an empty space in the noise.
Before the thought finished forming—before he could reach the name—something bumped his arm.
"Hey."
He startled. Nora had moved up beside him, walking close enough for their sleeves to brush. Her torchlight caught her features: tan skin marked with pale patches that shimmered faintly in the mist, like moonlight breaking through clouds. Her hair was tied back but messy, dark at the roots and burning orange-red at the ends. When she looked up, her eyes glowed the same color—molten, restless.
He blinked, thrown off balance. "What?"
"You were mumbling," she said, grinning a little. "Names or curses? Couldn't tell."
"Neither," he muttered.
"Sure. You looked about two seconds away from an aneurysm."
He let out a weak laugh. "Guess that's my resting face."
"Tragic." She bumped his elbow lightly. "I'd tell you to smile more, but I think it might kill you."
He shook his head, fighting a smile. "You always this charming?"
"Only when I'm tired," she said. "So, always."
They kept walking, their boots sinking softly into the mud. The forest groaned somewhere far off, branches shifting like ribs. The conversation died, but Nora's warmth lingered—the faint glow from her torch brushing the fog in soft orange. Ezra found himself keeping pace beside her, matching her steps without meaning to.
He almost forgot about the headcount.
Almost.
The forest changed slowly, so slowly he didn't notice at first. The trees grew closer together, the air heavier. The mist thickened into threads that clung to his clothes.
Somewhere behind them, Varik coughed — a dry, too-loud sound that made everyone tense for half a breath before they pretended they hadn't.
Rowan's voice came from up ahead. "Eyes up. The light's dying faster than it should."
Ezra looked up. He hadn't noticed until then, but he was right — the canopy was still high above, yet the light had faded to a grayish green, like dusk pressed into daylight. The air didn't move anymore. No wind. No rustle.
Even the insects had gone quiet.
He swallowed. "It's… weirdly still," he murmured.
Nora glanced at him. "Weird's a generous word." She lifted the torch a little higher, the light painting streaks of red along her hair.
Ezra looked down, just for something to do. For a moment, he thought the light was playing tricks on him — his own shadow didn't line up. It stretched the wrong way, bending slightly toward Soren's, thin and blurred, like it was reaching for it.
He blinked, rubbed his eyes, looked again.
It was normal now.
Probably just his imagination.
Still, his skin prickled.
Up ahead, Soren slowed. The shadow that had been moving ahead of him hesitated too — like it had hit a wall. Rowan's ears twitched once, and his hand went instinctively to the hilt at his side.
Ezra's chest tightened. "Rowan," he called softly. "Something's off."
Rowan didn't look back. "I know."
Ezra hesitated, then glanced at the ground. The soil felt strange under his boots — soft and uneven, as if it had been hollowed out.
Varik's voice floated from the back, too loud for the hush they were in. "Relax. Probably just swamp mud. You city kids panic every time nature breathes."
"Shut up," Nora hissed.
Ezra didn't move. He could feel something under the sole of his boot — not mud exactly, not solid either. It gave slightly, like a lung inflating.
Soren adjusted his hold on Atlas, voice low. "Rowan."
Rowan crouched, pressing his fingers to the soil. His eyes went unfocused for a moment—listening the way only he could.
Then he went rigid. "It's… moving."
Cassian turned sharply. "The ground?"
Rowan stood slowly. "Under it."
The silence that followed felt wrong, like it had a weight to it. Ezra's breath came too loud in his ears. He caught himself whispering, "What's under it?"
No one answered.
The fog crept higher, swirling around their knees. The light dimmed again—faster this time, almost deliberate. Ezra's heart hammered. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Nora beat him to it.
"I can't see a damn thing."
She bent, grabbed a fallen branch, and scraped it against a rock. Sparks leapt. She exhaled—just a breath—and the end flared to life, bright and gold.
The fire spread fast, chasing the mist back just enough to show the ground.
Ezra looked down.
And the world tilted.
They weren't standing on mud.
They were standing in it.
The earth was webbed with veins—slick, pale lines coiling between their boots, glistening in the firelight.
And scattered around them, half-buried beneath wet leaves, were dozens of small, round shapes.
Not stones.
Not roots.
Eggs.
Tiny cracks spidered across one nearest Nora's foot. Something inside it twitched.
She froze. "Rowan."
Rowan's eyes flashed gold in the light. "No one move."