The cold air bit at their skin as Gray, Lira, Orrin, and Adel. They had become used to cold, or maybe they had just forgotten the feeling of true warmth.
They were escorted from the underground trial chamber back toward the village surface. The long walk felt heavier than it should have. Their footsteps echoed faintly through the tunnels as lanterns swayed gently on thick ropes, casting shifting amber light across the damp stone walls. Shadows danced in the flickering glow, stretching and shrinking like specters watching them pass.
The guards walked ahead in silence, their expressions unreadable beneath thick furs and leather masks. They said nothing. Offered no praise. No comfort. Only forward motion.
Adel, still pale, but walking steadily, tugged gently on Gray's sleeve as they ascended the final set of stairs that opened onto the upper level. Her breath formed shallow clouds in the air.
"Did you guys see what that monster did?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Gray turned slightly to glance at her. Lira, walking just behind, raised an eyebrow but kept her thoughts to herself.
Adel kept her voice low. "The mist scattered the moment that thing shrieked. My veil...I couldn't hold it. It wasn't just noise. It was like something crawled into my head and tore it apart."
Orrin frowned as they stepped onto solid ground. "A disruption in your control?"
She nodded slowly. "Something like that. It wasn't physical. Not even Vyre-based. It was mental. Like... it struck my mind."
Lira frowned deeply.
'Since when could the monster use mental related abilities? I understand enchanted strength and senses but... this...' she couldn't dare to finish the thought. Fear gnawed at her heart but she dismissed it.
Gray, however...reacted more seriously. His pulse quickened and his face paled a little.
'That word...Mental.'
A memory rose like steam through cold air. The illusion in the abandoned district, when he wandered alone through a vision of a forgotten world. When Orrin had touched his shoulder and snapped him free. The flicker that appeared in his mind.
[You have broken free from a Mental Cue.]
He had never understood what it meant. He had brushed it off at the time. But now, his unease settled into something deeper, colder.
'What if the monster wasn't just brute force and stealth? What if it could crawl into their minds, rewrite what they saw, trick their senses until reality bent to its will?'
The thought refused to leave him.
By the time they exited the underground tunnel, twilight had bled into the western sky. Shades of bruised violet stretched across the horizon, pierced only by the faintest glimmer of stars peeking through scattered clouds. The frost underfoot crunched softly as they made their way back toward the blacksmith's shop.
The forge glowed with orange heat, and the rhythmic clang of hammer to steel rang through the stillness. When they entered, the warmth was immediate and welcome. The blacksmith stood over the anvil, broad-shouldered and smudged with soot, a scar bisecting his brow.
He looked up and nodded. "You're here for the suits?"
Lira stepped forward and nodded.
The blacksmith stepped aside, revealing a rack of freshly forged gear. The armor was similar to their old Sanctuary-issued suits, but it had clearly been altered. Improved.
Gray approached first. His new suit had been reinforced with cold-treated fur lining the collar and shoulders. Metal plating curved over the ribs and thighs, fitted perfectly. The gloves were lined with a material unlike anything he had seen, translucent yet firm. Glacierbone. Lightweight. Nearly indestructible.
The blacksmith moved behind a bench and gestured toward a set of wristbands laid carefully on a cloth.
"Your wristbands. Tuned. Still compatible. Should function as before."
Gray reached out, his fingers brushing over the familiar device. Despite its new polish, the deep scratches from earlier battles remained. He slipped it on, and the cold touch sent a flicker up his arm.
[System Reinitialized. Synchronizing... Synchronization Complete. Welcome back, Gray.]
The soft, familiar blue glow brought a faint smile to his face.
Lira rolled her shoulder in her new gear, adjusting the fit. "Better than I expected."
Orrin twirled his new suit. "This is really light. It's...amazing."
They left the forge together, the firelight fading behind them. Outside, a familiar figure stood waiting at the house.
The translator.
She held a lantern in one hand, her other arm resting at her side. Her dark hair was tied in a neat braid, and her posture was as rigid as ever. She led them inside wordlessly. On the table, five sealed vials had been placed in a neat row, each one filled with faintly glowing liquid.
She sat cross-legged near the fire, her voice calm. "These are Rites. A mixture of distilled Vyre, medicinal extracts, and trace monster essence. Consuming them increases reflexes, improves Vyre circulation, sharpens the mind."
No one moved.
Their wariness filled the room like mist.
"You are not required to use them," she said after a pause. "It is tradition created by The Kaan. There are risks. But it may also keep you alive."
She rose to her feet, bowed her head once, and left without another word. Her guards followed silently.
The door closed with a soft thud.
'Tradition my ass...' Gray looked at the liquid carefully.
Lira stared at him. Her arms folded tight against her chest. "We bring them with us tomorrow. But no one drinks until we decide. Together."
Adel dropped into a nearby chair, exhaustion in her every movement. "What about tomorrow? More training?"
Lira shook her head slowly. "No. Recovery day. We rest."
Orrin raised a brow. "Are you sure?"
She nodded. "We set out at dawn the day after. Pushing too hard now won't help us."
There was no argument. They were too tired for one.
Gray sank into a chair beside Renn, who had remained quiet in the corner. His face was pale, marked by days without rest. Oil stains marred his sleeves, and he stared blankly into a cold cup. He had already received his wristband and new suit, but didn't seem as happy. He simply was drowning in his thoughts. A feeling Gray knew very well.
Gray inched closer and spoke quietly. "Hey. You ever hear of something called a... Mental Cue?"
Renn blinked, pulled from his haze. "Mental Cue? Sounds like neural interference. Something psychological. Maybe a reaction triggered by a creature?"
Gray's fingers tapped the table. "Could a monster do that?"
Renn shrugged. "Wouldn't shock me. Have you seen what they can do? They warp their bodies. Their senses. It makes sense that some would evolve to attack the mind. Why do you ask?"
Gray hesitated. The image of the Pale Maw clawed at the edge of his thoughts. Its shriek. The way the world had seemed to distort.
"Just something I ran into. It stuck with me."
Renn didn't press. He leaned back, eyes half-closed.
The fire crackled.
In the corner, Adel had already drifted off to sleep. Her breathing was steady. Orrin sat beside the window, his spear across his lap, eyes scanning the quiet streets. Korr snored gently on a cot by the back wall. Lira stood near the door, one hand resting on the handle of her sword, her gaze fixed on the frost-coated windowpane.
Gray looked at the vials on the table again. They pulsed softly in the lamplight, the glow rhythmic, like a heartbeat.
One day.
That was all the time they had left.
By the next sunrise, they would descend into the tunnels.
And they would face whatever was waiting below.
If they survived, it would mean freedom.
If they failed, the village would not mourn them.
Gray leaned back, eyes on the ceiling, letting the quiet settle over his mind.
His need to survive had grown into something deeper. Not just instinct. Not just fear.
It was a promise.
To himself.
To live.
At any cost.