Amara woke from deep sleep, the weight of exhaustion clinging to her bones. Yet her spirit burned bright—hope now hinged on the trail of the mysterious survivor.
The powder he had cast to erase his scent glittered in her ethereal vision, each grain a beacon in the dark. What was meant to hide him instead betrayed his path. Amara followed relentlessly, marking every pause, every turn, every hesitation.
Behind her, the team staggered forward, eyes bloodshot, lips cracked, hands clenched tight around their weapons. Sleep-deprived and delirious, they moved as if pulled by instinct: Do not stop. Not now. Not when answers are this close. A silence hung over them, broken only by the grinding hum of their machines and the rasp of labored breaths.
Twice, she spotted them—towering predators, kin to the devoured corpse from before. Their movements prowled the ruins like nightmares given flesh, shadows blending seamlessly with the black stone.
But the beasts paid no heed.
The team held their breath and slipped past, every heartbeat pounding like a war drum. Fingers hovered over triggers, nerves quivering like drawn bowstrings. The human was the goal. Nothing else mattered.
Day 25
Amara's face had grown pale, her body trembling each time she returned from the spectral realm. Her voice faltered. Steps slowed.
Tian's heart clenched. She's at her limit. One more push could break her completely.
But another voice in his mind hissed louder: If we miss this chance, there may never be another. His hand tightened on his rifle as if to ground himself, the weight of command pressing heavier than ever.
So he let her continue.
Day 26
And then—everything changed.
Through the haze of her vision, Amara found them.
Not one. Three.
Three figures, cloaked in the same fur-lined garb. The spear-bearer among them.
They huddled within a hollow. Two knelt in grief, their shoulders shaking. The spear-bearer placed the strange bracelet into another's hands with reverence, like passing on a relic.
The third—a woman. Human, without question. Her shoulders quaked with sobs, grief etched into every line of her face.
Amara hovered closer, straining for a clearer look.
Then—
The woman's head snapped up.
Eyes narrowed. Piercing. Searching. As if she could see Amara.
Amara froze. Panic raced through her disembodied form. She fled back into her body, heart hammering even though she was not truly there.
She reported every detail—their garb, their faces, their positions. Then collapsed into unconscious sleep.
The team erupted with fierce, desperate hope. Survivors. Not rumor. Not theory. Proof.
Food. Shelter. Allies. A future.
The Cave
Amara's path led them to a cave, its entrance blocked by a massive boulder.
Unlike Amara, who had passed through effortlessly, Tian's group could only wait at the threshold. Guns ready. Nerves stretched taut. The stale air smelled of stone and dust, but beneath it lingered something else—smoke, faint but human.
Inside, the woman stirred.
A warmth pulsed through her chest, foreign yet strangely familiar—like the aura of their chief elder, but different.
She dropped to one knee, pressing her palm to the stone floor. Energy shivered outward, meeting the vibrations creeping closer.
Her eyes widened. The sound was unmistakable.
Machines. Engines. Chariots of old.
Her grandfather's stories rushed back: machines that roared without horses, fueled by fire and thunder. They had been myths—until now.
Another survivor at her side whispered, voice strained.
"Is it the vykra?"
She shook her head sharply.
"No. The vykra stalk in silence. What comes now is metal. Mechanical. No beast would dare roar like this here."
His face twisted with disbelief.
"But the relics are dead. The elders swore nothing ancient works anymore. Not without drawing the vykra. How can these strangers command them?"
Her answer came like steel.
"We'll find out soon enough."
Outside, Tian, Elena, and their best fighters stood at the cave mouth, weapons raised, every step deliberate. Behind them, the growl of the vehicles echoed through the ruins like thunder chasing lightning.
Both sides waited, separated by stone, legend, and fear.
And in that silence, something unthinkable stirred—For the first time in centuries, two remnants of humanity stood on the brink of reunion.