The howl did not end. It stretched across the forest, long and terrible, vibrating through marrow and soil alike. The Fades shivered as if it were a command, their hollow mouths opening wider until they screamed the line in unison:
"THE GIRL GOES TO GRANDMOTHER'S HOUSE!"
Red clutched her ears, sobbing into her knees. "I can't—I can't do this again—"
Cipher moved quickly, crouching before her, his hand finding hers. His grip was steady, grounding her in the storm. "Red. Look at me."
She did, though her face was wet and pale.
"Listen," he said, his tone low but firm. "They're not speaking to you. They're speaking at you. That's not the same. You're not their puppet."
Her throat bobbed as she tried to swallow her terror. Around them the trees groaned louder, their branches bending, snapping, re-forming, until the entire tree line leaned inward, funneling toward a single path swallowed in shadow.
Cipher followed it with his eyes. The Wolf's den. The place where the story demanded they walk.
The Automaton on his shoulder whirred faintly, its little wings flickering in agitation. "Teacher… the ink thickens. The narrative will collapse unless pressure is released."
Cipher muttered back, "You mean unless she walks it."
The machine hesitated, then said softly, "Or unless it's broken. But breaking is… costly."
The Wolf's voice rolled through the trees again, not a howl this time but words stretched and guttural, like a throat not built to shape them:
"Come… child… come… be eaten… again…"
The shadows along the path pulsed like a heartbeat. The Fades turned in unison, their crooked limbs pointing toward it. The air pressed hard against Cipher's chest, and for a brief moment he felt his foot twitch forward, as though the script itself had reached into his bones.
No. He yanked it back, planting it firmly in the dirt. His scythe flared brighter, crackling with stubborn defiance.
He turned to Red. "If you walk that path, it'll eat you alive. Not just your body—your story. There won't be anything left."
She shook her head violently. "Then what do we do? We can't stay here!"
The ground beneath the firepit cracked. Black ink seeped up through the soil, hissing against the embers until the flames sputtered out. Darkness spread, swallowing the edges of the clearing.
The Automaton whispered, voice strained. "It presses. Choose quickly."
Cipher stared into the ink that wanted to claim them. His mind spun. He could feel the Gods' earlier warning still echoing faintly within him: Do not let the tale dictate what must be. Forge another way.
His gaze lifted to the trees. The branches were warped, yes, but they were not the path. Not yet. If he refused the script, there had to be another route, even if it meant carving one with his own hands.
He stood tall, pulling Red to her feet. "Then we go where the story doesn't want us to."
Her eyes widened. "But—there's nothing there. Just forest."
Cipher smiled grimly. "Exactly."
He swung his scythe in a broad arc, carving through the wall of branches opposite the Wolf's path. The runes split the darkness like a blade of light, and for a heartbeat the trees recoiled as though struck. A gap opened—narrow, crooked, unnatural—but real.
The Fades shrieked in protest, their forms unraveling at the edges. The chorus of voices became frantic, broken lines tumbling over one another:
"—the girl—the girl goes—she must—she must—"
Cipher shoved Red toward the gap. "Go!"
She stumbled but obeyed, clutching her cloak around her. Cipher followed, scythe sweeping behind them as the branches snapped and lashed, trying to stitch the hole shut.
The forest screamed. The howl boomed again, closer now, furious.
As they pushed through the narrow passage, Red gasped. "It's following us, isn't it?"
Cipher didn't glance back. His voice was steady, though his chest burned with effort. "Of course it is. But if it has to follow, then it's not leading."
They burst into another stretch of forest—darker, stranger, the trees bent into spirals that twisted toward a starless sky. The air here was heavy, but it did not carry the same suffocating script. It was… wild. Off the page.
Cipher exhaled hard, sweat glinting on his brow. For the first time since the Wolf's howl, the whispers dimmed.
Red leaned against a tree, trembling but breathing. "Did… did we escape?"
The Automaton hummed low, its gears clicking uneasily. "No. You stepped outside the ink. That is both freedom… and peril."
From the trees behind them, the howl rose again—closer, sharper, hungry.
Cipher lifted his scythe, jaw set. "Good. Let it come."
The Wolf wanted them to walk the path. Instead, they had made their own. Now the forest itself would have to decide what price that defiance carried.