The village appeared on the third day like a corpse half-buried in snow.

Gabriel and Tess stood at the forest's edge, studying Millren's Rest from a distance. Twenty buildings, maybe thirty at most, clustered in a valley surrounded by bare trees. Smoke should have risen from chimneys. Movement should have filled the streets.

Nothing stirred.

"They're here," Gabriel said quietly.

Tess nocked an arrow but didn't draw. "How do you know?"

"I can feel them." Gabriel's hand moved to his sword hilt. The same instinct that had warned him about vampires, about the Crawfiend Queen. "They're waiting."

The approach was slow. They moved from tree to tree, watching the buildings for any sign of movement. Gabriel's danger sense prickled constantly, not pointing to any specific threat but confirming the village wasn't empty.

Greyscale tracks marked the snow. Dozens of them, human-shaped but wrong. The gait too wide, the depth uneven like the walkers no longer cared about balance.

"There," Tess whispered, pointing.

A body lay in the street between two buildings. Human, but the skin had turned that distinctive grey leather. Eyes open and white, staring at nothing. Dead maybe a week, partially buried in snow.

One of the Marrows.

They found two more bodies as they entered the village proper. Both Marrows, both torn apart. The Greyscale had been efficient and brutal.

"Six hunters," Tess said quietly. "And they got three before dying."

"Or getting turned," Gabriel corrected. "Some of these Greyscale might be fresh."

They chose the largest building. What had been a communal hall. Their first target. The door hung open, swinging slightly in the wind.

Gabriel drew his sword. Tess had her bow ready, arrow nocked.

Inside was darkness and the smell of decay.

Four Greyscale waited in the shadows.

The first came fast, scrambling over overturned tables with inhuman speed. Its face was wrong. Skin pulled tight over skull, eyes completely white, mouth open showing teeth filed to points.

Gabriel's sword took it through the throat. The Greyscale made a gurgling sound and collapsed.

Two more charged from opposite sides. Coordinated. Still capable of basic pack tactics.

Tess's arrow caught one in the eye. It dropped instantly.

Gabriel dodged the third's lunge and brought his blade down through its spine. It thrashed once and went still.

The fourth didn't attack. It stood in the far corner, head tilted, watching them with those blank white eyes. Evaluating.

Then it screamed.

The sound was wrong. Human vocal cords producing something that shouldn't be possible. High-pitched, warbling, carrying beyond the building.

A call.

"Out," Gabriel said. "Now."

They burst from the hall as Greyscale poured from other buildings. Eight, ten, twelve. All converging on their position.

Gabriel's red smoke rose instinctively. Not from fear or rage, but from cold calculation. He needed the edge it provided.

The crimson fog wrapped around his arms, solidifying into something almost physical. When the first Greyscale reached him, he caught it by the throat and squeezed. The fog responded to his will, crushing windpipe and vertebrae with a wet crack.

Tess fired methodically. Each arrow found an eye, a throat, a heart. She'd shifted to her crossbow, the mechanical efficiency allowing faster reloading.

A Greyscale got past Gabriel's guard, slashing with fingers that had become claws. It raked across his shoulder, tearing through his cloak and into flesh.

Pain flared, but Gabriel didn't lose focus. He grabbed the creature's wrist with smoke-wrapped hands and pulled, separating arm from shoulder. The Greyscale didn't scream. Just kept trying to bite him with its free hand until his sword took its head.

The fight lasted maybe three minutes.

When it ended, fourteen Greyscale lay dead in the snow.

Gabriel stood breathing hard, red smoke dissipating slowly. His shoulder bled, but not badly. The wound was already closing. Unnaturally fast, another sign of the awakening.

"You controlled it," Tess said, lowering her crossbow. "The smoke. You didn't lose yourself."

Gabriel looked at his hands. She was right. He'd stayed present, aware, making decisions instead of drowning in power.

"Not perfectly," he said. "But better than Cathedral Square."

Tess moved to one of the dead Greyscale and drew her knife. "Tormund needs the crystals. We should harvest them before more show up."

The work was grim. The Greystone deposits formed in the center of the forehead, small crystalline structures about the size of a thumbnail. Extracting them required cutting through grey flesh and bone.

Gabriel did most of it. His hands were steadier.

Fourteen crystals joined their collection. Fourteen confirmed kills. But Tormund had said thirty people in the village, and they'd only cleared fourteen Greyscale.

Sixteen remained.

They found the nest in what had been the village church.

The door was barricaded from inside, furniture piled against it. Gabriel's danger sense screamed as they approached.

"They're all in there," he said.

"How many?"

"All of them."

They circled the building. Two windows, both boarded. One rear entrance, also barricaded. The Greyscale had fortified their position.

"We burn it," Tess said. "Oil through the windows, set it ablaze, kill anything that runs out."

"They'll scatter. Some will escape into the forest." Gabriel studied the church. "We need them contained."

"So what's the plan?"

Gabriel moved to the front door and tested it. The barricade held firm from inside. "I go in through the roof. Drop down into the middle of them. They focus on me, you cover the exits."

"That's suicide."

"It's efficient." He met her eyes. "And it's the only way to be sure we get them all."

Tess wanted to argue. He could see it in her expression. But she also knew he was right.

"If you die in there," she said, "I'm going to be very upset."

"Noted."

Gabriel climbed the church wall using gaps in the stonework. The roof was wood, old and rotting. He found a weak point near the bell tower and kicked through.

The drop was maybe fifteen feet.

He landed in the center of the church surrounded by sixteen Greyscale.

They'd been waiting. Not sleeping or mindless wandering, but organized. Some had been the Marrows. He recognized armor and weapons. Others were villagers, still wearing the remnants of normal clothes.

The largest stood at the altar. Taller than the others, more muscled. Its grey skin was darker, almost black. The transformation more complete.

It had been the village elder, maybe. Or a blacksmith. Someone strong.

Now it was just a monster.

Gabriel raised his sword. Red smoke poured from his skin, thicker than before. The Greyscale circled him, moving with eerie coordination.

The alpha at the altar gestured. A wave of its hand, and half the pack charged.

Gabriel met them head-on.

His sword took the first through the chest. The second lost its head. The third got past his guard and tackled him, teeth snapping for his throat.

Red smoke erupted between them, forming a barrier that burned the Greyscale's grey flesh. It screamed and scrambled back.

Gabriel rolled to his feet as three more attacked. He shaped the smoke into claws, raking across their chests and faces. Blood sprayed. Bodies fell.

Outside, Tess's crossbow fired. A Greyscale trying to escape through a window dropped with an arrow through its skull.

The alpha roared and charged.

It was fast. Faster than any Greyscale Gabriel had fought. Its fist caught him in the ribs, lifting him off his feet and sending him crashing into a pew.

Pain exploded through his chest. The alpha followed up immediately, not giving him time to recover. Its clawed hands reached for his throat.

Gabriel's smoke lashed out instinctively, wrapping around the alpha's arms and pulling them apart. The creature's strength was immense, muscles corded with unnatural power. But Gabriel's smoke was stronger.

He drove his sword up through the alpha's jaw and into its brain.

The creature thrashed, then went still.

The remaining Greyscale scattered. Some tried the windows, met by Tess's arrows. Others charged Gabriel in desperation.

He killed them methodically. No rage, no loss of control. Just cold efficiency.

When it ended, sixteen more bodies lay dead.

Gabriel stood in the center of the church, breathing hard. Blood covered his sword, his hands, his clothes. Some of it was his own. The alpha had broken at least two ribs. But most belonged to the Greyscale.

Tess entered through the front door, having cleared the barricade from outside.

"You're hurt," she said, seeing him favor his ribs.

"I'll heal." Gabriel moved to the alpha's body and drew his knife. The Greystone in its skull was larger than the others, dark grey instead of white. "This one was further along in the transformation."

They harvested all sixteen crystals. Thirty total now, proof they'd cleared the entire nest.

But the work wasn't finished.

They spent the next hour searching every building, confirming no Greyscale remained. Then they gathered the bodies in the church and Tess poured oil over everything.

"The Church wanted it burned anyway," she said, striking flint to steel.

The fire caught quickly, spreading through the old wood. They watched from the village edge as Millren's Rest burned.

Thirty people had lived here. Families, farmers, children. Now they were ash.

"We should go," Tess said quietly. "Before the smoke draws attention."

Gabriel touched his ribs. Already healing, the bones knitting together with unnatural speed. By tomorrow the pain would be gone.

The awakening was accelerating.

They made camp two hours south of the village, far enough that the smoke wouldn't reach them.

Tess examined Gabriel's shoulder. The Greyscale's claw marks were already scars, pink and fresh but closed.

"You're healing faster," she said.

"I know."

"How long until..."

"I don't know." Gabriel stared into their small fire. "The voice is stronger. The pull is stronger. We need to complete the trial soon, before the incomplete awakening tears me apart."

Tess wrapped his shoulder anyway, using the last of Mera's supplies. Her hands were gentle, careful.

"You didn't lose control," she said again. "In the church, surrounded by sixteen of them. You stayed present."

Gabriel looked at his hands. "I used the smoke. Shaped it. Controlled it."

"That's progress."

"Or it means I'm getting better at being a monster."

"You're not a monster." Tess's voice was firm. "Monsters don't worry about losing control. They don't test themselves to make sure they can still fight without drowning in power."

Gabriel was quiet for a long moment. Then: "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being here. For not running."

Tess's hand found his. "I'm not running."

They sat in silence as the fire burned low. Tomorrow they'd return to Thornstud. Claim the armor and swords. Prepare for the real hunt.

But tonight, Gabriel let himself feel human for a few more hours.

The Greyscale had been people once. Now they were ash.

He was still a person.

For now.

That had to be enough.

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