The forest swallowed him whole as he moved deeper toward the camp. Every step demanded silence—his feet sinking into damp soil, branches brushing past like whispers. The map was already tucked safely inside his vest, but something pulled him onward.
Curiosity. Unease. Duty.
The closer he crept, the stronger the hum grew. A low, steady vibration that seemed to seep into the ground itself. Not wind, not machines he recognized—it was deeper, almost like a heartbeat.
The camp rose from the trees, a fortress of steel and wire. Floodlights swept across the perimeter, their beams slicing through the night. Hikaru sank low in the undergrowth, eyes narrowing. He traced the rotation of each light, each guard tower. Every pattern can be broken.
He waited until a floodlight passed overhead, then slipped forward. His movements matched the rhythm of the patrols, timing his breaths to their pauses. In seconds, he was pressed against the outer fence.
The metal thrummed faintly beneath his palm. Energy coursed through it, unnatural and cold. He frowned. They've charged it with resonance. Not just machines—resonance itself.
He followed the fence's edge, crouching low. Beyond it, the camp buzzed with life: soldiers unloading crates, technicians hunched over consoles, resonance machines pulsing with sickly blue light.
Then his breath caught.
In the center of the camp stood a massive structure—cylindrical, armored, its surface covered in spiraling channels of light. The glow was wrong: jagged, unstable, like veins of lightning trapped in glass. A low drone bled from it, vibrating in Hikaru's chest.
That… thing. It's feeding off the island.
As he stared, a group of soldiers approached the machine. Two dragged something between them.
A villager.
The man's wrists were bound, his face bruised. His feet scraped against the dirt as they pulled him forward, throwing him down at the base of the machine. He groaned, trying to rise, but a soldier slammed a rifle butt into his back.
Hikaru's jaw clenched. His fingers curled against the soil. They're using people?
The technicians activated a panel. The resonance machine shuddered, streams of light crawling along its surface. The villager screamed as arcs of blue energy lashed from the device, searing across his body. His voice tore through the night, raw and ragged.
Hikaru flinched, every instinct screaming to move, to act. His muscles tensed, ready to throw himself into the open.
But his mind held him back. If I go now, I'll be caught. And then what? One life saved, the rest doomed. No—
He pressed his back to the earth, heart hammering. Sweat dripped down his temple. The man's screams faded, replaced by hoarse sobs. The machine dimmed, its hunger sated—for now. The soldiers dragged the villager's limp form away, leaving the dirt blackened with scorch marks.
Hikaru's vision blurred for a moment. He realized he had been holding his breath too long. He exhaled shakily, pressing a hand against his chest. The shadows around him felt thicker now, almost clinging to his body, wrapping him in their cover.
This… this is what Shiga means by "subjects."
He bit down on his lip, hard enough to taste iron. His pulse steadied, slow and heavy, until his body was still again. But his thoughts burned: Yoshiki needed to know. Yuzuriha needed to see this.
He pulled back, slipping through the forest as the camp receded into the distance. The map in his vest weighed heavier than before—not just lines and notes, but proof of the truth.
When he finally reached the treeline overlooking the village, he paused. The moon was sinking low, painting the rooftops in pale silver. His hand lingered at his side, where the shadows had seemed to move with him.
"…If this is the world we're up against…" His voice was barely more than breath. "…then I'll need more than silence to protect them."
For a heartbeat, the night seemed to deepen around him. The shadows didn't just hide him. They answered him.