Kael followed the voices through the ruins, his shard glowing faintly to light his path. Each step felt heavier than the last, but the thought of other survivors pulled him forward.
For hours, he had thought himself alone in a dead world. Now—maybe—there was hope.
But as he approached the sound, hope twisted into unease.
The flicker of firelight revealed a makeshift camp hidden in the shadow of a collapsed overpass. Rough tents stitched from torn tarps. A circle of gaunt figures huddled around a fire, their clothes ragged, their eyes hollow. Survivors, yes—but not safe.
And standing among them, like a shadow over the flame, was Elias.
Kael froze.
Elias looked different now. His tattered armor clung to him like a second skin, his eyes burning with unnatural light. The shard embedded in his chest pulsed with dark energy, its rhythm matching his heartbeat.
He was speaking, his voice carrying with ease.
"…you've all seen what lurks out there. The monsters, the collapse-born. Without strength, you're nothing but prey. But with me, you have protection. You have a future."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the survivors. Desperation hung heavy in the air. They clung to his words not because they trusted him, but because they had nothing else.
Kael's grip on his shard tightened until his knuckles turned white.
One of the survivors—a gaunt man with sunken cheeks—glanced toward Kael's hiding place. His eyes widened, and he pointed. "Someone's there!"
Elias turned. His smile spread slow and sharp. "Well, well… look who survived."
The survivors shifted uneasily as Kael stepped into the firelight. Their gazes flicked between him and Elias, uncertain.
Kael's throat was dry. He wanted to shout, to warn them, to tear Elias's mask away. But the weight of their hollow eyes stopped him. These were people clinging to the barest thread of life. If he spoke, would they even believe him?
"Kael," Elias said warmly, as if greeting an old friend. "You made it. Good. You should join us. These people need someone like you. Together, we can rebuild."
Kael's jaw clenched. He saw through the words, through the act. Elias wasn't rebuilding—he was collecting. Gathering desperate lives to forge his own army.
But to oppose him here, now, with the survivors watching… Kael felt the voices in his head stir.
Fight.Expose him.Protect them.
But others whispered differently.
Not yet.You are weak.Wait for the right moment.
Kael swallowed hard. His voice came low. "These people… they don't need chains."
Elias's smile didn't falter. "Chains? No. Guidance. Strength. Something you'll never give them."
A heavy silence settled. The survivors looked between them, their fear palpable. To them, both Kael and Elias were monsters now—men wielding shards, carrying powers beyond human.
Elias turned to the group, spreading his arms. "Look at him. His eyes are already haunted. That shard is breaking him. You saw it, didn't you? The way he shakes, the way he hears voices."
The survivors murmured, some nodding. Fear crept into their eyes as they stared at Kael.
Kael's chest tightened. He wanted to deny it, but the truth was plain. He was breaking. The voices clawed at his mind even now.
Liora's whisper brushed against his ear.
Do not yield. Even if they doubt you.
Kael met Elias's gaze. "If you want me gone, you'll have to make me leave."
The survivors tensed. Elias chuckled softly. "Not yet, brother. There will be time for that."
He turned back to the group. "Rest for tonight. Tomorrow, we move. And remember—stay close. The collapse-born hunt in packs."
The fire crackled. The survivors settled uneasily, avoiding Kael's eyes.
Kael stood at the edge of the camp, his shard glowing faintly in his palm. Elias's words echoed in his head, mixing with the whispers of the dead.
For now, he had no choice but to stay. To watch. To wait.
But in the pit of his stomach, Kael knew one truth:
This camp wasn't a refuge.It was a cage.