Dawn brought a pale sky, almost white. The chimneys of New Hope Shelter exhaled gray smoke as the central courtyard filled with footsteps and brief voices. At the map table, Elara traced a broken route along the valley with a piece of charcoal.
"Objectives for today," she said plainly. "Fuel and medicine. A tanker truck got stuck here"—she pointed to a snow-covered highway crossing—"and the Millbrook clinic is less than three kilometers from that point. Avoid tunnels and underpasses. They're completely dark."
Lucas nodded. The bracelet marking his new rank weighed less than the captain's gaze.
"We'll be back before the last light," he said.
"If something moves, stay alert and fall back together. No 'just one more minute.'" Elara held his eyes. "Discipline is what brings the living home."
---
The expedition team waited by the palisade. They weren't pioneers—except for one. They were survivors, hardened by cold and hunger: Ruth, a lean sharpshooter with gray eyes; Malik, a former mechanic with hands strong as iron; Tomás, a broad-shouldered carpenter whose steps barely made a sound; and Ivy, a nurse with a short braid and a medkit slung over her shoulder.
Naomi closed the formation, the only pioneer among them, handpicked by Elara for this mission—her senses could save them before danger even showed its face.
"You lead," Naomi murmured to Lucas, adjusting her balaclava. "I'll cover what your eyes can't reach."
Megan arrived with two backpacks.
"Rations for twenty-four hours, bandages, purifying tablets… and your scarf." She smiled as she wrapped it around his neck. "Come back before the last snowflake falls, love."
Lucas squeezed her hand briefly, wordless, and leaned in to kiss her.
"Of course, my love," he whispered with a smile.
The gate opened with a groan, and the world swallowed them whole.
---
The snow reached mid-calf. Lucas activated his aura. His perception spread outward—a warm pulse in the cold. Within fifty meters: nothing human. Only two faint signatures beneath a pine—foxes, maybe—and, farther on, a still warm lump, likely a rodent.
"Clear," he whispered without turning.
They moved in a single file along the edge of the forest, avoiding open ground. Naomi, to his right, closed her eyes and tilted her head.
"Wind from the northeast," she murmured. "Smells of rust… and something sweet. Antifreeze, maybe."
"Tanker in sight, twelve o'clock," said Malik, pointing to the wreck of a broken fence. Ahead, the truck loomed out of the snow.
The silence was absolute. Only the crunch of snow and the occasional groan of a tree under its icy burden. They rounded a curve and there it was—a tanker sprawled across the highway like a dead animal, the cab crumpled against the guardrail. Old skid marks trailed beneath fresh snow.
"No tracks," Lucas noted, crouching. "No humans… and none of them."
He closed his eyes. His aura swept the area—nothing alive within seventy meters except his five teammates and the hidden birds perched on frozen wires. He opened his eyes.
"Let's move. Naomi and Ruth, take the high ground and watch the perimeter. Malik, check the tank—see if there's anything left inside. Ivy, look through the cab for medical supplies."
The plan moved like a well-oiled machine. Ruth took position on the embankment, rifle steady. Naomi stood still, listening beneath the snow.
Malik tapped the metal.
"Cold as a grave… but there's something," he muttered, pressing his ear against it. "If the valve isn't frozen, we can drain a bit. It'll help with the generators."
"Do it fast," Lucas ordered.
Ivy pried open the twisted cab with Tomás's help. A stench of old blood hit them.
"Gloves," she warned. "Don't touch the blood."
Between frozen papers and shards of glass, she found a half-closed case: gauze, scissors, antibiotics in blister packs.
"This'll do," she said, tucking it into her pack.
Metal groaned as Malik forced the valve. A dark thread began to drip into the canister.
"Come on, beauty…" he whispered.
Lucas stepped aside, eyes on the underpass ahead. A tunnel of pure blackness. Sunlight didn't reach that far. His pulse extended into the dark and came back empty. Nothing.
"I don't like that tunnel," he said.
"No one does," Naomi answered, eyes still closed. "Smells like old water… and turned soil."
"We leave once the canisters are full," said Lucas. "No going under. We'll take the hill."
Then he raised a finger.
"I sense something. Above the tunnel, right side."
Everyone froze. Lucas stretched his awareness—tiny presences, too small to be human, too slow for predators.
"A large bird," Naomi said, her enhanced sight narrowing. "It's wounded. No threat."
The second canister finished filling.
"All set," said Malik.
"Let's move," Lucas replied.
---
The detour took twenty minutes uphill through ice. Lucas channeled his aura into his boots for traction, conserving energy. Tomás followed, setting ropes and stakes for the others. At the summit, the wind cut like a blade.
Below, the town of Millbrook slept—low houses buried in snow, a gas station with a collapsed roof, the blue cross of the clinic half-hidden under a shelf of ice.
"We'll go through the woods," Lucas said. "Enter by the emergency door. Ruth, cover the south. Malik and Tomás, with me to the storage. Ivy, take only what's stable and useful. Naomi, stay alert—tell us if you see or smell anything."
The clinic smelled of metal and bleach. The lobby's floor was a sheet of ice, paper glued down beneath it. Ivy and Tomás forced the supply door; Lucas slipped down another hall, scanning the dark with his senses.
Then he felt it.
Not human. Not animal either.
A faint pulse crouched in the stairwell shadow, almost gone. Between him and it—a strip of darkness where the light didn't reach.
He raised a hand.
"Something by the emergency stairs," he whispered.
Naomi's eyes were already on it.
"It crawls," she murmured. "No breathing sound."
Ivy appeared, a box of supplies in her arms.
"Got painkillers, antibiotics, gauze. What's wrong?"
A dry scratch cut her words short—nails scraping tile.
"Back up," Lucas said quietly. "No panic. Slow and silent."
The dragging sound quickened.
Something struck the door—splintering it. A thin beam of light slid in. The creature was testing the sun, gauging the burn. Then came the smell—damp and iron.
"Ruth, shoot. Silenced," Lucas ordered.
Ruth fired twice.
Bang. Bang.
Muted, sharp.
Silence.
"Did you hit it?" Malik asked, wrench raised like an axe.
"Not sure," Ruth replied. "It moved fast."
Lucas cloaked himself in aura—and silence. His presence faded, barely there. He waited, poised. The creature didn't strike. It fled.
"Let's move out," he said. "No fights. We go with what we have."
They packed up fast. Malik took the fuel, Ivy sealed her bag, Tomás marked escape lines with chalk.
Naomi whispered, "Movement outside."
Lucas reached out. At first—nothing. Then two human signatures down the street. Still. Too still.
"They're waiting," he said. "One on the liquor store roof, another behind the kiosk."
"What do they want?" Malik muttered.
"No idea," said Lucas. "Probably scavengers. We'll go around west. Ruth—smoke grenade."
Poff. A gray cloud bloomed across the front. The team slipped out the side, hugging the walls, stepping through long shadows.
A faint bell chimed ahead—an alarm trap.
"They heard us," Ruth said.
"Doesn't matter," Lucas replied. "Keep moving."
They climbed back up the hill. No pursuit. On the ridge, Naomi lifted her face.
"Something new," she murmured. "Cooked meat. Pine smoke. That way."
"A camp?" Malik asked.
"Or bait," Ruth said.
Lucas looked at the fading sun.
"Night's coming. We'll check it tomorrow."
They descended toward the highway, skirting the bridge. The tanker lay behind, a frozen giant in the snow.
Five hundred meters from the walls, Lucas stopped. His pulse brushed a small, trembling human presence between two firs. The size of a child.
He raised a hand.
"Hold. Someone between those trees."
From the snow emerged a tiny figure, wrapped in layers, hands raised. Her lips were blue, her eyes wide.
"Don't shoot," she said, voice thin. "I'm not an enemy. I'm… nothing." She glanced back at the forest. "Please. Help me."
No one spoke. The wind pushed her hair forward. Naomi clenched her jaw. Ivy stepped forward on instinct. Ruth raised her weapon slightly, reflexively.
Lucas didn't look away. He felt her heartbeat—fast, erratic, full of fear. And then—another presence. Thirty meters behind her, low to the ground. Still. Waiting.
"There's someone else," he whispered. "Not human."
The girl swallowed, startled that he knew.
"I know," she said softly. "It's been following me since last night."
The sun sank, slow and cruel. Lucas's team tensed.
"Formation," he ordered. "No one separates."
"Do we take her?" Ivy asked.
Lucas looked at the girl, then the woods. His aura wrapped him like a second skin.
"Yes," he said. "She comes with us. And if anything comes out of those trees—shoot on sight."
The forest held its breath.
Then—movement. A scrape on snow, deliberate, patient. Not animal. Not fully human.
The girl took one step; the snow crunched.
From the firs burst something—fast as shadow, low and lean, skin pale as bone stretched over cords of muscle, eyes black and gleaming. It lunged for the girl.
"Now!" Lucas roared.
He drew his katana, aura flaring—a haze of light clinging to his body. Two strides, and steel met claw. The impact rang like iron on stone. He deflected the strike an inch from the girl's face.
"Run!" he shouted.
The girl stumbled toward the formation; Ivy caught her. Ruth and Tomás circled. Malik raised his wrench. Naomi, eyes half-shut, swept the air with her senses—no more lurking shapes.
The creature tilted its head, studying Lucas. Its eyes were pits. When it spoke, its voice scraped the air like glass.
"Didn't think… the small prey… came with guards." It turned its gaze to Naomi. "And what's this… awakened light? Two… awakened."
Lucas set his stance, knees bent, aura flowing through the blade.
"More prey," the creature hissed, "more food."
It bit its own wrist. Black blood poured out, thick and shining, stretching in the air before solidifying into a jagged sword that steamed like wet coal.
"It can form weapons," Ruth muttered.
"Keep your distance," Lucas ordered. "Shoot on any opening. Naomi—watch for others."
A sunray touched the creature's shoulder. Smoke rose from its skin. It hissed and backed off.
"Day's ending," Naomi said quietly. "If it stalls, more will come."
"Then we finish this fast," Lucas replied.
The morador advanced, blade low, steps silent. Lucas's aura burned in his limbs; his breath came slow—four counts in, four out.
"Your light…" the creature growled. "I want to break it."
"Come try," Lucas said.
It charged.
Steel met blood. Sparks of darkness spat into the cold. The monster's blade swung heavy; Lucas deflected, turning the force aside. Naomi's voice cut through the air:
"Right—left—fire!"
Bang. Ruth's bullet hit its shoulder. The wound folded like wax—half closed.
"Barely a scratch," Ruth muttered.
The creature grinned, too many teeth showing.
"Interesting…"
It lunged again. Lucas ducked, countered—a short slice across the ribs. The katana burned through pale flesh, leaving a dark seam. The creature leapt back, wary now.
Another slash came low; Lucas jumped, landing steady. Tomás shifted to flank, but Lucas raised two fingers.
"Hold. Follow Naomi's call."
The creature turned, exposing its back.
"Now!" Naomi cried.
Ruth fired at its leg. The bullet struck—but the black blade caught it, deflecting it midair.
"So strong…" Ivy breathed.
The monster pressed harder—fast, brutal strikes. Lucas met each one with economy, no wasted motion, the fight tightening into rhythm. His lungs burned; fury mode drained him fast.
"Lucas!" Naomi shouted. "Noise underground—seven hundred meters. Reinforcements coming!"
"Then we end it now," he said.
The morador sensed the urgency, sneered. "Night comes… so does your end."
"Not yet," Lucas said calmly.
He dimmed his aura—vanished. The creature blinked, confused. A breath later, Lucas was beside it. The katana flashed, curved, slicing the line between neck and shoulder.
The blade went in.
The monster screamed, lunged—missed. Lucas rose with a vertical cut, shattering the black sword. The fragments hissed into liquid.
"Smoke!" Lucas barked.
Ruth threw right, Malik left. Gray clouds billowed. Blind, the morador hissed in rage.
Naomi counted softly. "Three… two… one… now!"
Lucas's aura blazed one last time. He struck under the arm, cutting upward in a clean diagonal.
The creature split in two.
"Move!" Lucas shouted. "Before the rest arrive!"
Silence followed. Only their breathing.
Lucas exhaled, sheathed his blade, and wiped black blood off with snow.
"Everyone alright?"
"All good," Ruth said, trembling with relief.
"Nothing nearby," Naomi added. "We lost them."
Ivy nodded, clutching the girl. Her lips were still purple, but she managed to speak.
"I knew… it was hunting me," she said. "I ran for days. It just watched. Played with my fear."
Lucas looked toward the sinking sun.
"Let's move. Quick pace." He met the girl's eyes. "You walk in the middle. Safest spot."
The wind rose, lifting snow. In the distance, the fires of New Hope flickered like a heartbeat. The group walked on—light fading behind them, and the night, hungry, tasting the air.