Huddled within an alcove along the mountainside, I eased myself down against the side of the opening, letting the cool, damp air wrap around me like a blanket. It seeped into my skin, easing the relentless burn the day's heat had left behind. Somewhere deeper in the cavern, water dripped at uneven intervals, each drop echoing like a reminder that time was still moving, even if it felt like we weren't.
For a while, none of us did much of anything. We just sat there in the damp quiet, exhausted by everything that had happened. As the darkness closed in around us, the weight of Ethan's absence became almost unbearable, swallowing whatever energy we had left and making it hard to think of anything except for the horrors of this world.
Still, that didn't stop us from gathering that night to honor his memory.
His name, carved carefully into a smooth stone, rested against the cavern wall. It wasn't much—just a rock marked with his name. A stand-in for the grave we couldn't give him.
But it was far more than this world had ever given any of us.
And yet no one spoke at first. What could we possibly say? Words wouldn't pull him back, and they wouldn't stop the next death from coming.
I stood there, staring at the stone, waiting for… something. Sadness. Anger. Anything. But nothing came. Not like it did for the others, their heads bowed, shoulders drawn tight. I couldn't tell if what they carried was grief or simple hopelessness, but whatever it was, it felt heavy. Mine, though… I don't know. No matter how I tried, I couldn't bring myself to grieve for him.
Instead, my thoughts kept circling the same pit I'd been falling into since we got here: What happens to the last of us? When it comes down to one person. Whether that's me or someone else… what's left? Do they just sit and wait? Keep going until they can't? Is there even a point?
I caught myself calculating in my head. Days? Weeks? Maybe years if we're lucky. Or unlucky, depending on how you see it. The thought made my stomach twist. I didn't know which answer I wanted.
But I didn't have to dwell on it for much longer.
"…so let's prepare what we can." Amelia finished. Only then did I realize I'd missed half of what she'd been saying as she was standing straighter now, her tone sharp with purpose.
She turned to Henry first. "Keep the equipment running. I don't care how bad it gets, find a way."
"Owen, make sure our gear stays in working order. If a bag breaks, we can't afford to toss it aside."
She met Emily's uncertain gaze. "Do what you can with the communicators. Even if it feels like a lost cause, try. We need to know if there's even the slightest chance of contact."
Her eyes landed on Ella next. "See what you can find in the terrain. I know there's water, so collect it, and if you find anything else, let me know."
With a nod toward Benjamin, she added, "Dr. Benjamin, you keep us healthy. If anyone so much as coughs the wrong way, I want to know about it."
Finally, she turned to me. "Atlas, you're on first watch."
I nodded.
As the others settled in for the night, I took my place near the mouth of the alcove, my back pressed against the cool stone. Soon, the steady mist began to spill down from the mountainside and out across the desert.
It was a relief to finally know where the mist came from, yet there was still something deeply strange about this land. The world felt too quiet, as if it refused to make a sound—like something out there was waiting for its moment to strike. But before long, even that ominous stillness was swallowed by the mist as the stream thickened until I could no longer make out anything beyond the cave walls. All I could really see was that continuous sheet of white, almost like a waterfall, shielding us from whatever horrors might have been lurking beyond it.
After some time, Owen silently approached. He rubbed a hand over his face, his tired eyes meeting my distant stare. With a small nod, I pushed myself off the wall and stepped aside for him. "Wake me if anything feels off," I muttered before slipping past him and retreating deeper into the alcove, where I settled into that space between sleep and wakefulness—the kind where your body stays alert, ready to snap to attention at the first sign of danger, but never truly rests.
The night passed without incident, broken only by the steady drip of water echoing through the cave and the occasional gust of wind that found its way inside.
Eventually, the soft light of the rising suns seeped into the alcove, pushing back the shadows and stirring the others awake. As I sat up, Benjamin made his way over to take the next watch, offering me a silent nod as I stepped aside.
The cave remained quiet, save for the occasional shuffle as everyone stretched and prepared for the day. Near the back of the alcove, I found a smooth, flat rock and sat down, pulling my knife free. I grimaced at the state of the blade. Its edge was pitted with chips and dents from all the improvised uses we'd put it through.
With a sigh, I set to work. The steady rasp of metal against stone filled the silence, and with each pass of the blade, it felt as though my thoughts were being dragged along with it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Amelia watching me. Her expression was unreadable as she seemed to weigh something for a moment before finally speaking.
"We need to assess our situation," she began. "Our resources are limited, and we can't ignore the possibility that the missing colony ended up in a situation similar to ours."
I slid my blade along the stone one last time before sheathing it and standing, ready for whatever came next.
Benjamin's brows furrowed. "With that many mouths to feed, their chances of survival are slim."
Ella, her mind already working through possibilities, spoke up. "Before we make any decisions, we need to understand this place better."
I met her gaze. "How do you suggest we do that?"
She turned her attention to the towering mountains ahead. "We climb. From a higher vantage point, we might spot something useful. Maybe signs of life, or the colony."
I liked the idea; getting a better vantage point would be the most helpful thing to do at the moment. However, my word alone wouldn't be enough to get everyone to agree. But my concerns were for nothing.
Amelia didn't hesitate. "Let's do it."
As we prepped for the climb, a mix of anticipation and unease hung in the air. The mountain loomed before us, its jagged cliffs casting long, ominous shadows under the dual suns, sewing doubt into all of us. Sighing, I let out a long breath… It's been too long since I've done any real rock climbing. Come on, muscle memory, I'll be relying on you…
Letting out a low whistle, I scanned the path ahead. From what I could tell, the hike was still manageable for now, though it was only a matter of time before we ran into something steep enough to turn it into a real climb.
The real question was whether the rest of us could make it.
Turning to Henry, I called, "Hey, Henry, you ever been rock climbing before?"
He shook his head and drew in a strained breath. "Not since I was a kid," he admitted.
Seeing him already struggling with the incline, I slowed my pace to match his, making sure he didn't fall too far behind as we approached the first real obstacle—a steep rock face broken up by enough natural ledges to make the climb possible. It wasn't the worst climb I'd ever seen, but with how exhausted we were, it was going to feel twice as bad.
"It's pretty steep," I said, studying the rugged slope ahead. "But there are enough places to stop and catch our breath if we pace ourselves. Think we can handle it?" I asked, glancing to Amelia for her judgment.
She studied the climb for a few seconds before giving a small nod. "We'll have to. I don't see a better way up."
"That's great and all, but I need a break," Henry huffed.
Noting how worn everyone seemed, I nodded. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea."
"Thank God," Ella muttered, leaning against a stable rock as she took a sip from her water bottle.
But the quiet didn't last. By the time I was midway through showing Henry the best handholds, Amelia pushed herself to her feet, signaling the end of the break. "Alright, time to move. We need to cover as much ground as we can before nightfall."
"Oh, come on, just a little longer," Henry groaned.
"We can't afford to lose the time," Amelia reminded him. "Plus, it'll feel easier once we get started."
With a reluctant sigh, Henry pushed himself to his feet, stretching out his arms before giving me a nod. "Alright," he muttered, bracing himself. "Let's do this."
"Remember, always test your handholds before putting your full weight on them," I reminded him. "The last thing we need is someone falling because a rock decided to give out."
He nodded, looked up, and swallowed hard before starting after me. As we began the climb, I guided him through it step by step, allowing him to follow in my footsteps.
Yet, to everyone's surprise, Benjamin—the oldest among us by far—took to climbing like a natural, moving with an easy fluidity that put the rest of us to shame.
Which made it all the more tempting to study his technique, but my attention kept being pulled back to Ella and Henry, the two who were struggling most with the climb. Ella's hands trembled as she reached for each new hold, and Henry's breathing had already turned shallow and uneven.
"Try to stay calm," I called, hoping to ground them. "Overthinking's only going to make it worse. Deep breaths, ok."
"Yeah, easy for you to say," Henry shot back, grabbing for another handhold with shaking hands.
I bit back a smile. "Just focus on your footing. If you can keep some of your weight on your legs, your arms won't tire out so fast."
Taking some of my own advice, I gripped the rock and pushed myself onto a small ledge, letting myself stop long enough to catch my breath. From there, I watched the sky deepen into shades of orange and red as the twin suns dipped lower over the desert we had fought so hard to escape.
Above us, the cliffs stretched endlessly, their jagged edges harsh and desolate. Yet as I climbed, I found myself beginning to appreciate the strange formations of the mountain. The rock was unusually strong, and the surface was full of handholds that would have been impossible to trust on weaker stone, which helped make up for some of my own clumsy movements.
But with each stretch, each grasp of stone, the muscle memory slowly returned. My hands began to find the holds more naturally, and my footing steadied as old instincts resurfaced. The rhythm of the climb became familiar again, my body gradually remembering how to trust the rock beneath my fingers. What had first felt stiff and awkward soon became smoother and more controlled.
For most of the group, however, this was a different kind of struggle. Every movement was a battle against hesitation and fatigue, the unfamiliarity of climbing making their ascent even more difficult. I could hear the occasional grunt of frustration, the sharp intake of breath as someone nearly lost their grip.
Step by step, we ascended, hands and feet searching for every crack, every protrusion that could bear our weight. I moved with ease, relying on muscle memory even as fatigue gnawed at the edges of my strength. Amelia climbed beside me, her determination unwavering despite her occasional misstep. Behind her, Owen was already drenched in sweat, his nerves apparent in the way he hesitated before each movement.
"Take it slow," I advised, sparing him a glance. "Find your balance first, and then breathe."
But as the climb grew steeper, fear began to seep in. Ella's breathing turned shallow as she began to doubt her abilities.
"I can't do this," she whispered, her voice barely cutting through the wind whipping against the rock face.
"You can," I said firmly. "Just focus on the next step."
Henry wasn't doing much better. Sweat clung to him so heavily it had started soaking through his clothes, dripping down his face and into his eyes until it was hard for him to see clearly. Then I heard it… the sharp scrape of a boot against stone as he slipped.
A moment later, his startled cry tore from his throat as his weight lurched away from the cliff. His last handhold gave way, his sweat-slick grip finally failing him.
Then, without a second to consider what I was doing, I lunged with the kind of speed no one should ever risk while scaling a mountain and caught his wrist.
The sudden pull yanked me forward. My boots ground desperately against the rock, searching for purchase as his weight tore at my shoulder and dragged me off balance—
Then my own foothold gave way, and for one sickening instant, both of us were falling.
Yet by some miracle, my free hand caught on a narrow ledge. My grip clamped down hard, pain tearing up my arm as Henry's weight yanked against me. Every muscle in my body screamed while I hung there, barely holding us both.
"Got you," I muttered, though at that point it felt more like the rock had gotten both of us.
Henry's face had gone pale. "I-I thought that was it," he said with a shudder.
"Yeah," I admitted, forcing a thin smile. "Me too. Let's… not do that again."
We inched our way toward a more stable patch while the wind still clawed at us. Then Amelia's voice drifted down from above.
"You two good down there?"
Henry gave a jerky nod. "Yeah… thanks to Atlas."
She studied him a moment longer, with suspicion. "Sure about that? Looked close."
Henry let out a shaky laugh that wasn't fooling anyone. "Yeah. Let's just keep going."
Amelia nodded, still wary. "Alright. Slow and steady, we're almost there."
Nodding at that, I fell in behind Henry, acting as his shadow on the climb. My arms still trembled from the strain, but I kept close enough to grab him again if needed.
And when we finally reached the top, Henry collapsed onto the rocky ground, his breath coming in heavy gasps before breaking into a nervous laugh. "I thought I was going to die," he admitted, holding up his trembling hands. "That was terrifying… and kinda fun. Although I don't think I'll be doing that anytime soon."
I rolled my shoulder, a sharp ache flaring where his weight had yanked me earlier. Every pulse of pain reminded me just how close I'd come to losing my grip—not just on him, but on the ledge too.
Amelia, perched on a nearby rock, took a sip from her canteen before speaking. "I'm glad we all made it," she said, her voice carrying an unspoken relief. "But don't get too comfortable, we've got a long way to go. So you've got twenty minutes, then we move again."
Henry groaned, rolling onto his side with a dramatic sigh. "Twenty minutes? You're ruthless."
"You'll thank me when we're not hiking in the middle of the night," she quipped.
Not about to argue, Henry shut his eyes and promptly passed out.
Smirking, I leaned against the rock and let out a long sigh, finally easing the tension in my aching arm. But true to her word, we were moving again before long, making steady progress with each passing hour.
Still, there was a silver lining. The peak that had once seemed so far away was now only moments from reach, and with it came a constant wind that stirred my hair and carried a strange sense of life. Unlike the dry air of the desert, this breeze was fresher, cleaner… almost inviting.
It would have been, anyway.
Then a massive roar tore through the air, the cry of some enormous predator throwing out its challenge for all to hear. The force of it shuddered through the stone beneath our feet and reverberated in my chest like distant thunder.
We froze, falling deathly silent as we waited for whatever had made that sound to crest the ridge and tear us apart.
But as the seconds dragged by and nothing followed except silence, Amelia hesitantly motioned for us to move forward, her pistol already in hand.
Nodding, I tightened my grip on my knife and crawled ahead, fully prepared to come face-to-face with another monstrosity like the behemoth in the desert.
Instead, the moment I hauled myself over the final ledge, I froze all over again, nearly losing my grip on the knife at the sight before me.
Hope.
That was the only thing that crossed my mind when I saw what lay beyond.
A couple hundred feet below us, a vast forest of green stretched toward the horizon in rolling waves.
The contrast was so jarring that, for a moment, I couldn't quite believe it was real. But when Ella nearly stumbled beside me at the sight, I finally let myself believe that maybe this world held more than I'd let myself hope for.
"Incredible," Ella breathed.
I could only nod, too transfixed to look away. Then, before either of us could react, Emily pushed past and started down toward the forest, all caution forgotten in the face of what lay before us.
Ella and I exchanged a quick glance before hurrying after her, both of us still staring at the endless stretch of green below.
Almost unconsciously, I reached out and ran my hand over a soft, fern-like plant. Its surface was smooth, almost velvety. I plucked a frond and rubbed it between my fingers, watching as a green residue clung to my skin, carrying a fresh scent of rain and earth.
I closed my eyes for a moment, just to feel it.
Then I let the plant fall.
"What do you think, Amelia?" I asked, glancing toward the treeline. "Should we set up camp?"
She shook her head. "Not yet. I want a better sense of what's out here before we commit."
I gave a small nod. Smart. We'd come too far to be reckless now.
Well…Most of us, anyway.
A second later, Henry yelped.
I turned just in time to see him skid downhill in a barely controlled tumble before slamming chest-first into a thick, jutting root. The impact cracked through the quiet, followed by a low groan.
He clung to the root like it had just saved his life, then shook out his hands and gave a weak grin. "Okay… maybe I was a little too excited."
Amelia stared at him for a long moment, her expression completely flat.
"…We'll scout the area first," she said at last, turning back to the treeline. "Once we know it's safe, we'll set up camp."
I shot Henry a pitying look before turning back.
"When do we start?" Ella asked, practically vibrating with energy.
"Hopefully as soon as possible," Benjamin added. "I don't like the idea of whatever made that roar lurking somewhere in this forest."
Neither did anyone else. But whatever fear remained was overshadowed by the anticipation of whatever lay ahead as we made our way deeper into the vast forest to get a feel for what would hopefully become our new home.
From every direction, the forest buzzed with life, an orchestra of unfamiliar sounds filling the air. Strange calls echoed from unseen creatures, leaves whispered with movement, and the constant hum of insects wove through it all, carrying an energy that felt completely foreign after the desert's dead stillness.
Every step revealed something new.
Armored, amphibious creatures burst from hidden steam vents, launching themselves into the canopy in sudden, hissing arcs. Bioluminescent insects drifted lazily through the air like glowing embers, their light painting soft patterns beneath the canopy.
I had to admit… it was mesmerizing, but not everything came without its dangers.
"Don't get too close to the vents," Benjamin warned, eyeing the rising mist. "The ground might be unstable. The last thing we need is someone falling into boiling water."
Henry immediately gave the ground a wary look, shifting a few steps farther away.
I couldn't help but chuckle.
Yeah… boiling alive wasn't exactly high on my bucket list.
Hours passed like this as we pushed deeper into the forest, the dense foliage creeping in like grasping fingers, swallowing the light bit by bit. The air grew thick, heavy with the damp scent of earth and the decay of foliage. As the twin suns dipped toward the horizon, their dying light bled through the canopy, casting jagged shadows that slithered across the forest floor, making every rustle, every distant call feel amplified, like the trees themselves were whispering secrets just beyond our reach.
"Okay…" Amelia breathed, stopping everyone before they could go any farther. "This is probably the best spot we're going to get," she said, motioning upward toward the base of an enormous tree that stretched far beyond the canopy above.
"Tree camp? I like it," Henry grinned, already testing one of the low-hanging branches.
One by one, we climbed into the massive tree and settled ourselves between two enormous branches. From there, the forest spread out below like a sea of shifting darkness, broken only by the faint, ghostly glow of bioluminescent creatures flickering through the underbrush.
Yet even there, with the height and the branches beneath us offering some measure of safety, I couldn't shake the tension gnawing at the edges of my mind.
My fingers instinctively found my knife, its worn grip familiar against my palm. In the dim light, the polished metal caught the moon's glow that shifted and reflected much like my own thoughts as I drifted back to the desert, back to the moment Ethan had been swallowed whole.
I pictured it all over again, wondering if there was anything I could have done differently that might have saved him.
Maybe if I'd acted faster, I could have saved him the way Benjamin saved Henry. Or maybe I could have kept its attention on me long enough for everyone else to get away safely.
But even those thoughts faded when I looked down at the blade, running my thumb along its edge. It was sharper now, but not nearly sharp enough. The serpent's scales were thick—far thicker than those of any creature I had ever encountered, let alone one that size.
I knew my knife would barely scratch its surface, but I couldent help but picture myself standing before that massive creature again, imagining the knife carving through its hide, but the vision faltered. It wouldn't work, not like this.
The more I thought about it, the more ridiculous the idea seemed. What was I even thinking? A knife against a beast like that? My grip tightened on the hilt. I needed something stronger. Sure, my pulse rifle could do some damage, but I didn't have it, so what could I use instead?
I held the blade against a rock, pressing just enough to feel the edge catch before dragging it slowly across. The scraping echoed faintly through the quiet night.
I needed something to keep my hands busy—something to occupy my thoughts so I wouldn't spiral into the what-ifs of the past. Sharpening the blade gave me something tangible to focus on with each pass against the stone, honing a finer edge as if I could sharpen my own thoughts and resolve along with it.
We had barely survived the desert. What about the next threat?
I glanced toward the others, catching glimpses of them nestled between the massive branches. Amelia, usually composed, lay sprawled out, exhaustion finally catching up to her. Ella had curled in on herself, her journal still loose in one hand, as if she'd been writing right up until sleep claimed her. Benjamin rested with his head against his pack.
They trusted me to keep watch. To keep them safe.
That trust felt heavy, but it was something to hold on to.
With a quiet sigh, I pressed the blade harder against the rock and listened to the scrape of metal on stone, again and again, until I suddenly paused.
There was another scraping sound.
It was faint, but it was definitely there.
My body tensed as I tilted my head, straining to listen past the layered symphony of the forest. For a second, I thought I'd imagined it.
Then it came again.
A slow, deliberate clawing against bark.
I tightened my grip on the knife and carefully peered over the edge of the branch. At first, I could only make out vague, shifting shapes in the dark, but as my eyes adjusted, I caught glimpses of them slipping between the trees. They moved low to the ground, sleek scales glimmering faintly in the moonlight as they prowled through the brush with unsettling coordination. Their heads bobbed as they tested the air, tails flicking behind them while they circled the forest floor below.
I held my breath, barely daring to move.
They prowled around the base of the tree, claws scraping lightly against the bark as if testing it.
Then one lifted its head, almost seeming to scan the canopy before slipping back into the brush.
For a few agonizing moments, they lingered, each taking its turn investigating the area before circling the tree once more.
Then, just as quickly as they had come, they melted back into the undergrowth, vanishing between the tangled ferns and trunks.
Exhaling slowly, I leaned back against the tree trunk, my grip still tight around my knife. Damn. And here I was, hoping for a quiet night so I could finally get some sleep.
I drew in a deep breath and tried to loosen the tension in my muscles. It didn't look like they could climb, so for now, we were safe. Morning, though… that was a problem for later.
Right now, I just had to stay awake until someone came to take over, or—
A faint creak at my side made me jolt. I turned sharply, half ready to reach for my blade, before a familiar face stepped from the shadows.
I let out a slow breath. "Next time, maybe announce yourself before you scare me half to death."
Henry chuckled before lowering himself beside me. "I'll try. Anyway, looks like it's my shift."
"Alright," I murmured, sliding the blade back into its sheath as I stood.
Henry gave a slight nod, his expression hard to read in the dim light. He rolled his shoulders, working out the stiffness from the climb, then settled into the spot I'd just vacated. "Get some rest, Atlas. You've earned it."
I lingered for a moment, still keyed up despite the fatigue creeping in at the edges. Then, with one last glance at the dark expanse of forest below, I gave a brief nod and headed back to find a place to sleep.