Standing at the hilltop, Lira and Elias stared down toward the place where the giant rat had emerged.
The noon sun hammered them from above, baking the jagged black rocks under their feet until the heat seeped into their boots, burning through thin soles. Sweat slicked Elias's back, dampening the shredded remains of his shirt. Lira wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a smear of dust across her skin.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
The wind whistled, stirring the ash and dust at their feet. Somewhere far off, a flock of black-winged scavengers circled the barren wasteland, waiting.
Lira tightened her grip on her dagger, its worn leather hilt digging into her palm. Beside her, Elias tested the weight of his makeshift weapon — a jagged shard of obsidian, wrapped tight with strips of his ruined shirt to serve as a crude handle.
They exchanged a glance. No words needed. The nerves were sharp in the air between them — taut as a drawn bowstring.
At the edge of a shallow crater, Elias exhaled slowly, then crouched low and slid down the loose scree, boots kicking up little avalanches of rock. His landing was rough but steady; he shifted quickly away from the tunnel entrance, cautious not to block the path.
He wasn't about to land on Lira again. Once was enough.
Lira followed, more carefully. Her twisted ankle made every movement a gamble, but she pushed through the pain, sliding behind him. She reached out instinctively and grabbed the back of his hoodie — anchoring herself to him in the dark.
Elias stiffened slightly at the contact but didn't shake her off.
Together, they crept toward the yawning black mouth of the tunnel.
The air grew colder almost immediately, the heat of the surface fading as the shadows swallowed them whole. The tunnels stretched wide, eerily silent, the smell of damp stone and old blood clinging to every surface.
Without a torch, the darkness was almost absolute. Lira stumbled often, relying on the slight tug of Elias's hoodie to keep her on course. She knew he could see — his passive ability letting him pierce the gloom — but for her, it was like walking blindfolded.
They passed empty caverns, hollowed nests, and abandoned burrows. The bones of smaller creatures littered the ground — gnawed clean and left to bleach in the darkness.
Signs of a once-thriving colony. Now dead. Still.
The silence pressed against their ears, heavy and absolute.
Eventually, they found it.
A larger chamber opened up before them — and in the center, curled like a nightmare made flesh, was the monster.
The giant rat lay half-slumped against a mound of stone, its massive chest rising and falling with slow, deep breaths. Patches of matted fur were missing, exposing pale, scarred flesh beneath. Its front paws twitched occasionally, claws scraping against the stone.
Elias tapped Lira's shoulder sharply.
Stay back.
He gestured at her ankle, then pointed to a ledge about fifteen meters back — a place she could hide if things went south.
Lira hesitated, but after a beat, she nodded and backed away, melting into the shadows.
Elias crouched low, heart hammering against his ribs.
He canceled the illusion masking her steps — no point wasting mana now. Instead, he focused everything on cloaking himself. His skin prickled as the magic wrapped around him like a second skin, muffling his movements, blending him into the darkness.
Every breath he took felt too loud. Every heartbeat, thunderous.
The rat's head lay exposed. Vulnerable.
Perfect.
He shifted the shard of obsidian in his grip, angling the jagged point downward.
This had to be fast. Clean.
If he could sever an artery — the monster would bleed out before it could mount a real attack.
If he missed…
Well. He tried not to think about that.
'No pressure,' Elias thought grimly.
Gritting his teeth, he lunged forward.
In one clean motion, he drove the shard down with all the strength he could muster.
It struck true.
The blade sank deep, punching through flesh and sinew.
A wet, meaty sound filled the air.
Relief exploded in Elias's chest — it worked.
But when he tried to yank the blade free, it refused to budge.
It was stuck.
Panic flared — a hot, blinding surge.
The rat's eyes snapped open, glowing red in the dark.
And then it roared.
The sound shook the cavern walls, sending dust raining down from the ceiling.
Elias barely had time to let go before the beast reared back, wrenching the shard from his hands and nearly flinging him into the air like a rag doll.
He hit the ground hard, rolled, and scrambled upright.
Mana surged into an illusion — a flash of blinding light overhead.
"RUN!" he shouted, voice raw.
Lira didn't hesitate.
They bolted.
Boots pounded the stone. Breaths rasped loud in their throats.
Behind them, the rat let out another roar and charged.
The ground shook under its bulk. Claws shredded stone like paper.
It was too fast.
Elias saw the shadow lunge at the last second.
He shoved Lira sideways — just in time.
They crashed to the ground, tangled together, as the rat's claws raked the spot where they'd been seconds before.
Pain exploded through Elias's side. He tasted blood.
Lira was already moving, dragging him to his feet.
But the monster was circling, smarter now, cutting off their escape.
Elias's mind raced.
No weapon.
No time.
Move.
He threw himself left, dodging a swipe that would have torn him in half.
He spotted them — a pile of discarded quills, each as long as his arm, left behind from the rat's shedding.
Weapons.
If he could reach them—
A shadow loomed.
Claws slashed.
He wasn't fast enough.
The strike clipped him across the back, sending him sprawling.
His body hit the ground with a brutal thud, pain radiating outward like wildfire.
Blood soaked into the shredded remains of his shirt.
Vision blurred. Breath hitched.
Still — he moved. Crawling, slipping, scrambling toward the pile of quills.
His hand closed around one — slick with his own blood.
Long. Heavy. Razor-sharp.
Behind him, the rat stalked closer, savoring the moment.
Elias forced himself up onto one knee.
His arms trembled under the effort.
Somewhere behind the monster, he heard Lira moving — weak, stumbling.
Was she even alive?
For a heartbeat, he thought she'd run.
He wouldn't have blamed her.
But then — a flicker of motion.
A flash of blonde hair.
Lira — battered, bleeding — limped forward, dagger clutched tight.
Without hesitation, she drove the blade into the monster's throat.
The rat shrieked — a terrible, ear-shredding noise — and flung her aside like a rag doll.
She slammed into the cavern wall and crumpled, unmoving.
A cold fury ignited in Elias's chest, burning hotter than any fear.
Unsure if it was his or Lira's he moved.
Mana surged, burning what little he had left.
He canceled the illusion of light — trading sight for silence.
He became a ghost in the shadows.
The rat thrashed wounded, but still deadly.
It sniffed the air, searching.
Elias moved.
Fast. Silent.
Every step measured.
Every breath controlled.
In three strides, he closed the distance.
He roared — a primal, wordless sound — and lunged.
He rammed the quill into the creature's ruined eye socket with all his strength.
The impact jolted up his arms.
The rat screamed.
It thrashed wildly, claws raking the air.
Elias held on, driving the quill deeper, twisting it.
Blood gushed over his hands, hot and slick.
The rat bucked once — twice — then collapsed with a bone-shaking thud that cracked the floor beneath them.
Silence fell.
A heavy, stunned silence.
The faint chime of victory echoed in the distance — mechanical and hollow.
Words scrolled briefly across Elias's inner vision — but he barely registered them.
He staggered away from the monster's twitching corpse, lungs heaving.
All he could think about was Lira.
He stumbled to her side, collapsing to his knees.
She was breathing.
Barely.
Her face was pale, smeared with dirt and blood, but her chest rose and fell in shallow, steady rhythms.
Relief slammed into him so hard he nearly blacked out.
"You're okay," he muttered hoarsely, not sure if he was talking to her or himself.
The last of his adrenaline drained away.
His body gave out.
He slumped forward, his forehead brushing her shoulder.
Half-conscious. Half-dead.
Again.
'Ha…' Elias thought dimly. 'That's ironic.'
The world blurred, darkened — and swallowed him whole