The main conference room was cloaked in dim blue light, the hum of emergency lamps setting a heavy mood. Faces leaned forward, all eyes on Tian as his voice cut through the silence.
"If we stop moving, we die here. If we wait for rescue, we die here. The only way forward is forward—further, deeper, until we find food, until we find a way to live."
His words landed like stone on water, rippling across the weary team.
Kai, calm but calculating, broke the silence.
"Tomorrow, we examine the battlefield. The beasts Amara saw feeding—we'll collect their remains. Test them. If they're edible, even partially, it could buy us time."
A few nodded. Others froze, horror flashing in their eyes.
"And what if they're toxic?" one whispered. "What if their flesh carries disease?"
The air thickened. Fear vs. necessity clashed in every heartbeat.
Marcus Torres slammed his fist onto the table, voice cracking with desperation.
"So what then? Starve while waiting for the perfect answer? If we waste time, by the time we're out of rations, it'll already be too late!"
The room fell quiet. His words stung because they were true.
Another voice rose—measured, but firm.
"Those beasts survive in the poison, day and night. If we can study them, maybe we'll learn why. Maybe we can adapt."
The argument settled into grim consensus. Tomorrow, they would take the risk.
As the discussion shifted to logistics—bait rations, medkits, fire suppressants, weapons—Tian caught Elena's trembling hands beneath the table. He clasped them gently, his voice softer now.
"It's dangerous, yes. But it's the only path left."
Her lips quivered.
"Amara sounded… truly afraid. What if tomorrow we face something worse?"
A hush rippled through the room.
Amara's gaze was distant, haunted by what she had seen. Slowly, she shook her head.
"Worse exists. We just haven't met it yet."
The silence after her words was suffocating.
Day 24
The morning came like the tightening of a noose.
Suits sealed. Weapons checked. No one left the shelter unarmed.
Guided by Amara's ethereal light, they returned to the ruins of yesterday's nightmare.
Then—her senses flared.
The same life sign…
She pressed further, straining her glowing form against exhaustion. And there—among broken stone and twisted metal—she saw it.
A figure. Two-legged. Human-sized.
It wore a cloak of black fur, hood drawn tight, a narrow slit revealing sharp eyes that gleamed beneath the darkness. In its clawed right hand, a spear shimmered faintly at the tip, honed and deadly.
The being scavenged methodically, movements silent and precise. Then—it pulled something from the remains of the creature.
A bracelet. Not a weapon, not armor, but a device. A metallic band, set with a pearl-like core—white, gleaming faintly with black and violet accents. Something between a relic and technology.
The creature secured it quickly, then vanished into shadow, moving like liquid smoke.
But Amara saw more. Powder, scattered in its wake, clinging faintly in the ethereal light. A scent-masking ritual, a predator's trick to erase its trail.
She pushed herself, following for five long minutes until exhaustion tore her back to her body.
The temporary shelter erupted when her report hit comms.
"It's human!"
"If they can live out there—then there's food, there's water—there's a way!"
For the first time in weeks, voices trembled not with despair but with hope.
But hope was fragile. Elsewhere, far beyond their sight, the earth quaked.
172 kilometers north-west, something stirred.
A titan. Over three meters tall. Eyes filled with yellow matter, moving like a living thing in its eye-balls. Each stride shattered the ground into web-like fissures. From its fanged jaws poured flickering fire, its breath searing the night. In its hand, a log thicker than a man's torso. Every slam shook the earth like a natural disaster.
The darkness did not only hide prey. It raised monsters.
The expedition's path had forked—hope on one side, terror on the other.
And tomorrow, both would collide.