The silence stretched unbearably.
Sakura's hand remained outstretched, blocking Renji from taking a step closer. The figure didn't move. Didn't breathe. Only those twin glimmers—eyes, too steady, too sharp to belong to stone—watched them.
Renji swallowed hard. "Sakura…"
"Don't." Her whisper was razor-thin. "Just stay still."
A tense heartbeat. Then another.
And then—like smoke unraveling—the figure melted back into the shadows. A ripple of cold air swept the chamber. When the torchlight swayed, the dais was empty.
Renji exhaled explosively. "Okay. Nope. Nope nope nope. That's enough Scooby-Doo ghost chasing for one lifetime."
Sakura's gaze lingered where the eyes had been. Her pulse thundered, but her mind sparked with questions. Who was that person? What was he doing here? Why is he in here? And why did the ruins respond to her and Renji as though they belonged? She then made a decision.
"We need to investigate," she said firmly.
Renji's jaw dropped. "Investigate?! Are you insane? That was our cue to run!"
She finally turned to him, eyes cold but faintly shining. "If we run from everything, we'll never understand this place. Worse case scenario, we'll never find a way back."
He opened his mouth, then closed it. "Damn it. I hate it when you make sense."
They decided to retreat from the chamber, at least until their nerves steadied. The jungle air outside felt warmer, almost safe compared to the cryptic silence within.
Renji flopped down onto a mossy stone, clutching his stomach. "Alright, priority number one: food. Because unless your shiny barrier can conjure cheeseburgers, I'm gonna die of hunger before anything else gets me."
Sakura pinched the bridge of her nose. "Do you ever think of anything besides your stomach?"
"Sure. I also think about water, shelter, and not dying. You know—survival basics."
She sighed but conceded. "Fine. We'll start with the stream we found yesterday. There might be edible plants nearby."
"And fish?" His eyes lit up hopefully.
"You can try. Just make sure that the fish looks edible enough for us to eat. You'll do the fishing and I'll search for some edible plants. You good with it?"
He grinned and gave a thumbs up. "Sounds like a plan."
The stream bubbled quietly, sunlight glinting off smooth stones. Sakura crouched at the edge, analyzing the flora with careful precision. She sketched notes with a stick in the dirt: leaf shapes, color patterns, possible toxicity indicators.
Renji, meanwhile, had stripped off his coat and was halfway in the water, flailing with an improvised spear.
"Ha! Got you, you slippery little—!" Splash.
Sakura glanced up. He stood dripping, spear empty. "…Pathetic."
"Hey, I nearly had it!" He stomped out, hair plastered to his forehead. "You try catching these things without a net!"
"I'd rather not waste energy."
"Fine. Then starve."
She smirked faintly—until her gaze caught on something in the shallows. A cluster of blue-green plants, roots glowing faintly beneath the current.
Her heart skipped. "Renji. Look."
He followed her pointing finger. "What? You pointing at the seaweed?"
"It's resonating." She reached into the water, fingertips brushing the leaves. A soft hum vibrated against her skin—alive, responsive, like the glyphs in the ruins.
Renji's eyes widened. "Okay, creepy glowing salad. Are we supposed to eat that?"
"Not until I test it." She carefully plucked a strand and wrapped it in cloth.
Renji groaned. "Great. The one edible thing in this jungle and it's radioactive lettuce."
By midday, they'd gathered enough fruit-like pods and roots to risk cooking. Using flint from the ruins, Renji managed to spark a small fire.
As they ate cautiously, Sakura noticed his hands trembling again. "Renji."
"What?" he mumbled around a mouthful.
"Your hands."
He froze. Looked down. The air around his fingers shimmered faintly, as if heat warped the space. It faded when he clenched his fists.
"…Okay. Now that's new."
Sakura's breath hitched. She remembered the silver strand in her hair that morning. The shield. Their reflections. The ruins.
This wasn't random.
Their bodies were changing.
That night, dreams came.
Sakura stood in a boundless void, stars flickering above. When she lifted her hand, they bent, constellations reshaping at her whim. A shield blossomed again—this time vast, spanning the cosmos.
But then it cracked. Shattered. And the fragments stabbed back into her chest, burning.
She awoke gasping, sweat dampening her brow.
Beside her, Renji stirred restlessly, mumbling. His hand twitched as though grasping something unseen. "…Again… rewind it…"
Sakura shivered. Whatever powers were stirring inside them, they came with a cost.
The next days blurred into rhythm.
Hunting, gathering, scouting the ruins. Sakura documented everything in her head, desperate to anchor herself in logic. Renji provided brute force and questionable humor.
Yet the world itself seemed to respond more the longer they stayed. Plants glowed faintly when touched. The air thickened with invisible currents. And every so often, when danger loomed—a falling branch, a sudden predator—something in them surged.
A shimmering barrier. A flicker of rewound time. Both unbidden, unstoppable.
And each time, Sakura noticed: the silver in her hair spread a fraction more. Renji's eyes gleamed turquoise in flashes.
Neither of them spoke of it aloud.
On the fifth day, they returned cautiously to the ruins' main chamber. The glyphs pulsed brighter this time, as if welcoming them. But the dais was still. Empty.
Renji exhaled in relief. "Guess spooky cloak guy packed up and left."
Sakura didn't answer. Her gaze lingered, unease gnawing. The figure hadn't felt like a hallucination. It had felt deliberate.
As they turned to leave, Renji froze. His skin prickled.
"…Sakura."
She followed his stare. At the edge of the chamber, deep claw marks scored the stone. Fresh.
The Beast.
Her pulse spiked.
But when they heard it—when the roar split the air from somewhere outside—it wasn't the same wild bellow as before.
It was deeper. Sharper. Controlled.
Like a leash had been slipped around its throat.
Sakura and Renji locked eyes, horror dawning together.
The Beast wasn't hunting alone.
It was being directed. And they were the targets.