The tunnel spat us out into a narrow ravine where the air tasted of ash and distant smoke. The perpetual black sky pressed down heavier than usual, as if the world itself mourned what we were about to find. My legs moved on autopilot, each step a dull throb of exhaustion, but the supplies from the dead travelers weighed down my new pack like anchors,canned food, clean clothes, bandages, a small first-aid kit that felt like treasure in this broken world. The mystery of how so many well-equipped people had died still gnawed at me. They'd had everything: organization, gear, numbers. And Vesper had slaughtered them for sport, bored of the violence only when we arrived.
Xeno walked at the rear, silent as always, but something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
His steps had grown unsteady in the last hour, his breathing labored and shallow. Sweat poured off him even in the cold, soaking through his jacket despite the fever from earlier seeming to break. The blindfold incident lingered in the air like an unspoken wound,his threat still echoed in my ears, chilling me every time I glanced at him. He'd said he didn't mean it, but the way his voice had gone flat and deadly... I believed he'd meant it in that moment.
Now, he swayed.
I heard it first,a soft stumble, the scrape of his boot on stone. Then the shovel clattered to the ground. Xeno folded forward, knees hitting the dirt with a dull thud. He didn't cry out, didn't make a sound. Just collapsed, body crumpling like a marionette with cut strings.
"Xeno!" I screamed, dropping my pack and running to him.
He was burning hot again, skin feverish under my palms as I rolled him onto his back. His face was flushed crimson, lips parted, breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Sweat matted his hair, and his blindfold was dark with it. The headache from Vesper's gaze, the lingering terror,it had all come crashing back, or maybe the fever had never truly left.
Kael was there in seconds, limping badly but dropping beside us. "He's out again. Worse this time."
Lira turned sharply, her composed mask cracking for the first time I could remember. She knelt, pressing fingers to his neck. "Pulse erratic. Temperature dangerously high. Whatever that man's eyes did... it's not psychological anymore. It's physical. Like poison in the bloodstream."
"We can't carry him far," Kael said, voice tight with worry. "Not like this."
Lira's jaw clenched. She stared at Xeno for a long moment, then at the ravine stretching ahead. Something shifted in her eyes,resignation, perhaps, or defeat.
"I'll carry him," she said finally. "There's... a place. Close enough. We have no choice now."
Kael's head snapped up. "And how do you know that place ?"
Lira didn't answer directly. She slid her arms under Xeno,one beneath his shoulders, the other under his knees,and lifted him with a grunt. He was heavier than he looked, all lean muscle, but Lira was strong, trained in ways none of us fully understood. She adjusted him against her chest, his head lolling against her shoulder, shovel slung across her back now alongside her pack.
"It's where I come from,where I was trained. It was built by a priest that had a vision about the apocalypse so he made preparations before the fall."
"Move," she ordered, voice clipped. "Follow the ravine north. Two hours if we push."
Kael and I exchanged glances but obeyed. I stayed close, watching Xeno's fever-flushed face, worry gnawing at my gut. Lira carried him without complaint, her steps steady despite the burden.
As we walked, Kael fell into step beside her. The silence stretched, broken only by our footsteps and Xeno's occasional delirious murmur.
"That man," Kael said quietly, glancing back at the tunnel we'd left. "Vesper. He's no ordinary killer."
Lira's grip tightened on Xeno. "No. He's not."
"Those eyes... like shattered sapphire. Beautiful and wrong. And the way he healed..." Kael shuddered. "He toyed with us. Killed all those travelers just because he could. Got bored and walked away. Like an angel cast down, reveling in the fall."
"The Fallen Angel," Lira murmured, almost to herself. "Fitting. Violence for its own sake, power beyond human limits. He's touched by something deeper than sin. Consumed by it."
Kael nodded slowly. "A dark seraph. Beautiful and terrible. And he has the scroll now. Whatever he wants with the old language... it can't be good."
Lira's expression hardened. "He'll regret crossing us."
Her voice held a new edge,vengeance, cold and sharp. But beneath it, worry for Xeno, perhaps. Or for what his collapse meant for all of us.
I listened, fear coiling in my belly. The Fallen Angel. The name fit too well—Vesper's handsome face, his seductive voice, those fractured eyes that had shattered Xeno without a touch. What was he? And why did looking at him break Xeno so completely?
The ravine widened gradually, the walls pulling back to reveal a hidden valley nestled between jagged peaks. At first, I thought it was another ruin—pre-fall structures half-swallowed by earth. But as we crested a rise, the scope hit me.
A town.
Not a ruined village like the one we'd left long ago. This was organized, fortified. Walls of reinforced concrete and steel, topped with watchtowers that still stood tall. Buildings clustered inside,barracks, storehouses, a central chapel-like structure with a steeple that pierced the black sky. Smoke rose from chimneys, or had risen once. Now, it curled lazily, thick and black.
Lira stopped at the crest, Xeno still in her arms. Her face... changed. The composure cracked, just for a second,eyes widening, breath catching.
"No," she whispered.
The town was burning.
Flames licked at buildings, devouring wood and thatch with hungry roars. But it wasn't just fire. Bodies lay everywhere,sprawled in streets, slumped against walls, crumpled in doorways. Dozens, hundreds. Men, women, even children. Some bore the marks of blades,clean cuts, throats slit, chests carved open. Human work. Precise, deliberate. Others were mangled beyond recognition,limbs torn, bodies crushed, wounds that could only come from Xenophores: jagged tears, too many eyes' worth of gouges, tentacles' crushing marks.
The travelers Vesper had killed. It made sense now. These were survivors fleeing the massacre, carrying what they could. And Vesper had caught them in the tunnels, slaughtered them for the thrill.
Lira dropped to her knees, gently lowering Xeno to the ground. His head lolled, feverish murmurs escaping him. But Lira wasn't looking at him anymore.
"Great-Grandfather," she breathed, voice breaking for the first time.
She ran.
Lira sprinted down the slope toward the town, boots kicking up ash and dirt. Her composure shattered completely,face twisted in raw panic, eyes wide with dread. She vaulted the outer wall, disappearing into the smoke and flames.
Kael and I stared, frozen.
"We... we can't stay here," Kael said, but his voice was hollow. He looked at Xeno, then at the burning town. "This was her home."
I knelt beside Xeno, pressing a hand to his forehead. Still burning. His blindfold was soaked, his breaths shallow. "We have to help her," I whispered, fear gripping me. The town was a graveyard,bodies twisted in death, blood staining the streets, flames consuming what little life remained. The chapel at the center stood half-collapsed, its steeple cracked like a broken cross.
Kael nodded grimly. "Stay with him. I'll—"
A scream echoed from the town,Lira's voice, raw and broken.
Kael grabbed his staff,what remained of it,and limped down the slope. I followed, dragging Xeno's shovel, heart pounding.
The town was worse up close. The air choked with smoke and the stench of burning flesh. Bodies lay in heaps,defenders who had fought to the end. Some clutched weapons: guns like Lira's, knives, improvised spears. Others had died running, children clutched in parents' arms. Xenophore marks were everywhere,crushed skulls, torn limbs,but the blade wounds were human. Precise. Vesper's work? Or someone else's?
I found Lira in the chapel ruins.
She knelt beside an old man, his priest's robes torn and bloodied. White hair, kind face even in death,sharp eyes now dim, a deep gash across his chest. He lay against the altar, one hand clutching a crucifix, the other stretched toward Lira.
She held him, tears streaming down her face,silent at first, then a low, keening sound that tore at my heart. Her composure was gone, demolished. Anger, sadness, vengeance,all warred in her eyes, red-rimmed and wild.
"Great-Grandfather," she whispered, voice cracking. "No... please..."
He was still breathing,barely. A faint rattle in his chest. His eyes fluttered open, focusing on her with effort.
"Lira..." His voice was a thread, blood bubbling on his lips. He reached up, weak fingers brushing her cheek. Then he leaned close, whispering something into her ear,words too soft for me to hear.
Her face crumpled. Tears fell freely now, mixing with soot and blood.
Then his hand fell limp.
He was gone.
Lira held him, rocking slightly, a low sob escaping her. The composed, unbreakable Lira,shattered. Anger surged in her eyes, hot and fierce, mingled with grief that twisted her features. Vengeance burned there too, a fire hotter than the flames consuming the town.
I stood frozen, tears streaming down my own face. The sight of it all,the dead, the fire, Lira's pain,terrified me. This had been a safe place, a prepared haven. And it was gone. Destroyed.
Kael arrived, face ashen. "Yona... we have to go. The fire's spreading."
Lira didn't move at first. Then she gently laid her great-grandfather down, closing his eyes with trembling fingers. She stood, face hardening even through the tears.
"He told me," she said, voice hoarse but steadying. "Who did this. Vesper... and something worse. The Collector awakens."
She turned to us, eyes burning with mixed emotions,grief, rage, resolve.
"We end this."
But outside, the clicking started again.
Closer.
Hungry.