I saw it first.

Not because it moved.Not because it made a sound.

But because the forest reacted to it.

Branches bent in ways they shouldn't have. Leaves trembled without wind. The air itself felt wrong, like pressure building behind my eyes. And there it was, half-hidden between the warped trunks, watching us.

The thing that had once been Darge.

My stomach dropped.

Its body looked wrong in a way my brain refused to fully process. Flesh that no longer obeyed anatomy. Limbs that healed as fast as they were damaged, skin knitting itself together with sickening efficiency.

Violet strings of energy pulsed beneath the surface, weaving through muscle and bone like a puppeteer's web. They glowed faintly, rhythmically, as if breathing.

As if alive.

As if aware.

It didn't rush us.It didn't attack.

It circled.

Slowly.

Patiently.

Like a predator that knew its prey was already exhausted.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

That thing regenerated from anything. Fire. Death. Space. It didn't matter. It would just… come back. Again. And again. And again. I knew it. Deep in my bones, I knew it.

I had fought it before, and I wasn't alone, yet we couldn't win; it crushed our efforts, again and again and again.

So I knew.

This wasn't a fight we could win.

I didn't hesitate.

I raised two fingers and flicked them sharply to the left, our signal.

Nora reacted instantly.

No words.

No hesitation.

No panic.

She saw it too.

I swung Kent up onto my back, ignoring the fresh spike of pain in my leg, tightening my grip on his arm to keep him steady. He groaned weakly but didn't wake. Good. He didn't need to see this.

"Run," I breathed.

And we did.

The world narrowed to motion.

My boots slammed into the ground, mana flooding into my muscles as I pushed past what should have been my limit. Nora matched me stride for stride, her expression locked into cold focus, aura flaring just enough to keep pace without wasting energy.

Behind us...

I didn't look.

I didn't need to.

I could feel it.

That sensation of being watched didn't fade. If anything, it sharpened. Like needles pressing into the back of my skull. Like eyes boring through flesh and thought alike.

Hours blurred together.

The forest didn't change. It stretched endlessly in every direction—towering black trees, warped roots, bioluminescent moss glowing faintly beneath our feet. The ground shifted from soft loam to jagged stone to ash-black soil that crunched underfoot.

We ran anyway.

My breathing burned. My legs screamed. Every step felt heavier than the last, Kent's weight dragging me down inch by inch. But I didn't slow. Couldn't.

I pushed mana deeper. Harder.

Pain became distant.

Time lost meaning.

At some point—three hours in? Five? I couldn't tell—we stopped.

Three minutes. Exactly three.

I dropped to one knee, lowering Kent carefully to the ground. My hands shook as I placed my palm against his chest, warm white light blooming softly. Healing mana poured out of me in steady waves, knitting bone, muscle, and torn tissue back together.

It hurt.

Not physically.Internally.

Healing always did when pushed this far. My soul felt scraped raw, like I was pouring myself into someone else piece by piece.

Nora stood guard, eyes scanning the forest, blade half-drawn.

"Two minutes," she said quietly.

"I know," I replied, teeth clenched.

I forced more mana out.

Kent gasped, back arching as his wounds sealed. His breathing steadied. Color returned to his face. By the time I pulled my hand away, sweat was dripping down my spine and my vision swam.

He was whole.

I wasn't.

But we didn't have time to care.

That was when we found Xavier.

He stumbled out from between two trees, hands raised instinctively, before recognition flickered across his face.

"Sebastian?" he asked, stunned.

I stared at him for half a second longer than necessary.

He was… fine.

No wounds. No torn armor. No visible corruption. His mana signature was steady, unfractured. Either he'd been incredibly lucky, or he'd avoided combat entirely.

"Later," I snapped, hauling Kent back onto my shoulders. "Run. Now."

To his credit, Xavier didn't argue.

We ran again.

The thing followed.

Xavier was the one who saw it next.

"There," he hissed after what felt like another eternity. "I saw it again. Same thing. Same… glow."

My jaw tightened.

We ran harder.

Day bled into twilight. Twilight into something darker. The sky shifted into shades that didn't belong together, deep purples, bruised reds, and finally an endless black.

And then the moon rose.

A black moon.

Split cleanly in half.

It hung low in the sky, jagged like a broken mirror, radiating a malevolent light that made my skin crawl. The world beneath it felt wrong, warped by its presence. Shadows stretched too long. Mana behaved sluggishly, heavy and resistant.

I didn't like it.

Not one bit.

We didn't stop.

Fifteen hours.

That's how long we ran.

Fifteen hours of pushing past limits. Fifteen hours of terror-driven endurance. Fifteen hours of wondering when my legs would finally give out and doom us all.

But eventually… the pressure eased.

That sensation, that unbearable weight of being watched, faded.

I slowed first. Just a fraction.

Then Nora nodded.

Then we stopped.

I nearly collapsed.

Kent slid off my back, landing heavily but upright this time. Xavier bent over, hands on his knees, breathing hard. Nora leaned against a tree, eyes still scanning, still alert.

The forest was silent.

Too silent.

No footsteps. No warped pressure in the air. No violet glow burning behind my eyelids.

We had lost it.

Or at least… that's what we thought.

I straightened slowly, every muscle protesting. My mana reserves were dangerously low. My body felt hollowed out, scraped thin.

Above us, the black, broken moon loomed.

Watching.

Waiting.

I didn't know why, but the unease didn't fade.

It settled.

And somewhere deep inside me, a quiet voice whispered the thought I didn't want to admit:

Things like that don't give up.

They just wait.

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