The morning in Tyser was never truly peaceful. Even on days when the monsters didn't breach the inner walls, the air itself carried an unnatural heaviness — like the kingdom itself was watching and judging every soul within it.
Eiran sat on the edge of the cracked stone bridge, staring at his reflection in the slow-moving river below. The ripples distorted his face, making him look older than his twenty years. He could still feel the phantom weight of the creature's claws from last night's attack. He had survived — but barely. And survival here meant nothing unless you grew stronger.
> If I can't find its core next time… I'll die. And it won't be quick.
Footsteps approached. It was Kaela — her usual confident stride was replaced by something quieter, heavier. She had a wound bandaged around her left arm, but her eyes… they weren't on her injury. They were on him.
"You froze up last night," she said, her voice flat but not unkind.
"I know."
"You're better than that."
Silence. Eiran clenched his fists until his knuckles whitened. "I couldn't find it. The core. It kept shifting."
Kaela's lips pressed into a thin line. "Then we have a bigger problem. Some of them are… adapting."
The words hit harder than any blade. Monsters in Tyser had cores — a crystalline organ that pulsed with unnatural light — and striking it was the only way to kill them. But if the cores began to move… no one was safe.
---
Later that day, the squad gathered at the Hall of Records, a towering black spire that scraped the blood-red sky. The interior smelled of dust and decay. Old scrolls lined the walls, but the center of the hall held something much stranger — a massive circular map etched into the stone floor.
Captain Varik, a scarred veteran with one eye, stood over it.
"This," he said, tapping the outer ring of the map, "is where last night's attack occurred. And this…" He pointed to the inner circle — a void-black zone with no markings — "is where the creatures come from."
Eiran felt his chest tighten. No one had ever returned from the void-black zone. The stories called it The Hollow Nest.
Varik's eye scanned the group. "Our mission is simple. We're going into The Hollow Nest."
Gasps. Whispers. Someone cursed under their breath.
"Three days from now," Varik continued, "the red tide will rise. The monsters will be fewer, distracted by the migration. That's our chance to gather intel… and maybe, if we're lucky, bring back something that can save this kingdom."
Eiran noticed Kaela's hands trembling — she hid it quickly. Tovan, the squad's medic, shifted uncomfortably. Even Ryn, the quietest among them, had gone pale.
---
That night, the nightmares returned.
Eiran dreamt of a field of broken train tracks stretching into infinity. Each rail was slick with blood. Far ahead, a dark train thundered toward him — its windows glowing with pale, inhuman eyes. He tried to run, but his legs sank into the ground like wet sand.
From the last carriage, a voice whispered — too faint to make out — but he felt it burn into his mind:
> "Not all cores are where you think they are… and not all monsters are enemies."
He woke in a cold sweat. The moon was high, casting pale light across the barracks. Across the room, Kaela sat awake, sharpening her blade in silence.
"You ever think," she said suddenly, without looking up, "that maybe Tyser isn't meant to be survived? Maybe we're just… feeding it."
Eiran stared at her. "Feeding what?"
Kaela finally met his eyes. "The kingdom itself."
---
The next morning, preparations began. Armor was reforged. Weapons were repaired. Maps were studied until eyes blurred.
Eiran spent hours training on core identification — staring at preserved monster remains, tracing faint lines of energy through their twisted bodies. But the voice from his dream lingered. Not all monsters are enemies.
By evening, the sky turned crimson — a rare phenomenon called the Blood Veil. The air felt heavier, sound seemed muffled, and shadows stretched unnaturally long. The old veterans said it was a sign of "shifting days," when reality in Tyser warped ever so slightly.
Kaela approached, tossing him a small metal charm — a circle within a circle. "Wear it," she said. "It's for luck."
"I didn't think you believed in luck."
"I don't. But you need it."
For the first time since they'd met, she smiled — faint but real. And for a fleeting second, the weight of Tyser lifted.
---
That night, as Eiran stood watch, he saw it — far beyond the outer walls, a colossal shape moving under the blood-red sky. Its silhouette was wrong, shifting like smoke and flesh at the same time.
And then, it turned its head toward him.
Two burning lights stared back — not like a monster's eyes… but like something older.
The wind carried a whisper to him, the same voice from his dream:
> "You're not ready… but you will be."
His heart pounded. He blinked — and the shape was gone. But the words had sunk deep, leaving a chill that even the Tyser wind couldn't match.
In three days, The Hollow Nest awaited. And somehow, Eiran knew — the real monsters weren't the ones they had been told about.
---
To be continued...