Zor descended. His massive wings beat against the air, but the air offered no resistance. It did not move. It was simply still. Dead still.
They landed ten meters from the shimmering line of purple-white mist that marked the zone boundary. The ground was normal—grass, dirt, trees—nothing visibly wrong. Yet, the silence was absolute. No bird calls, no insect buzzing, no wind rustling leaves. No sound at all except Draven's own breathing and the soft scrape of Zor's talons on stone. The world had paused here.
"This is wrong," Zor said quietly. His purple lightning dimmed. The Thunder Raven was visibly disturbed. "Air isn't moving. At all. Like the world forgot how to breathe."
Draven nodded, his skin crawling with the palpable wrongness. This was the dead zone perimeter—the effect of the corruption spilling out, draining life and motion, even before the mist fully took hold.
Ahead, the purple-white corruption swirled, thick and dense, a fifty-kilometer pillar towering into the sky. The boundary was not a clear line, but a gradual thickening, the mist beginning somewhere just beyond them.
The Genesis Codex pulsed beside Draven, its green-gold glow steady.
"Day sixty-seven since Raziel's ultimatum about Malvorn," Draven murmured, recording mentally. "Dead zone extends approximately ten to twenty meters beyond the visible corruption boundary. Characterized by absolute stillness and silence. Ecosystem appears intact but lifeless. Cause unknown, effect disturbing."
"No movement visible inside," Zor reported, circling once more. "No life detected. The zone appears... dormant. But wrong. Everything wrong."
"Time to call the family," Draven decided. "We're going in, but I need everyone's input first."
The Genesis Codex opened. Green-gold light flooded the perimeter, and the pack materialized.
Malvorn appeared first, his crystalline form absolute. His Earth Communion extended immediately, mapping the ground and sensing the devastation. Velnar, the Ancient Everthorn, settled his eight legs, assessing with his war-hungry patience. Sylvara, the Forest Druid, stood disturbed, her nature affinity recoiling from the pervasive wrongness. Feyra appeared last, her green roses wilting slightly as her life element detected death everywhere.
"Fifty-kilometer zone," Draven briefed. "Zone interior unknown. We need to investigate. Understand what happened. But—" He looked at the three Lord-tier pack members. "—you three can't enter. The mutation risk is too high, even with my protection."
"Lord-tier are vulnerable. We understood," Velnar conceded, clicking his mandibles in frustration. "But you shouldn't enter alone."
"I'm not alone," Draven assured them, gesturing toward Malvorn. "Overlord immunity is absolute. He's unaffected. And the Genesis Codex protects me. We'll investigate together. You will watch through Shared Vision from the Codex sanctuary. Safe. Connected. Just not physically present."
There was no argument. Survival logic was clear.
"Stay safe," Sylvara said, her druid form already dissolving as she returned to the sanctuary. "We will watch and warn if anything is detected."
"Kill efficiently if fighting is required," Velnar added before fading.
"Come back," Feyra whispered, the small fox disappearing last. "Please come back."
The three Lord-tier beasts vanished. Only Zor remained outside, circling, ready to patrol the perimeter.
Draven stepped forward, toward the purple-white mist. The Genesis Codex followed, its green-gold glow intensifying. As he touched the mist, the invisible barrier activated instantly, automatically wrapping his skin and clothing in a protective, undetectable film. He felt no sensation, only the quiet, absolute knowledge of Adhivar's power shielding him completely from the corruption.
Draven walked forward, into the fifty-kilometer zone. Malvorn followed, his magnitude zero presence entirely dismissive of the mist.
"Shared Vision activating," Draven murmured, sending the mental command. The connection opened, and his senses extended. He felt Velnar's sharp focus, Sylvara's disturbed analysis, and Feyra's pervasive dread—all seeing through his eyes.
"We're in," Draven reported quietly. "Moving deeper. Investigating. Stay alert."
Draven and Malvorn advanced into the terrifying silence.
Visibility quickly worsened, the purple-white mist thickening until it reduced sight to twenty meters in some places. They relied on Malvorn's Earth Communion for direction.
The ground beneath their feet was normal. Trees stood, leaves intact, but they were frozen, neither living nor dying—just existing.
"Five kilometers from the boundary," Malvorn reported. "Zone center approximately twenty kilometers ahead. We are barely one-fifth of the way in."
Everywhere was silence. Absolute. Pervasive. Suffocating.
Through the Shared Vision bond, Draven felt the pack's shared horror intensify.
"Movement ahead," Malvorn warned suddenly. "No—not movement. Presence. Something lying ahead. Not alive."
They found the body in a clearing. A large beast, partially dissolved, caught mid-mutation. Purple veins glowed faintly across the distorted flesh. It was suspended, killed during its transformation.
"Caught mid-mutation," Draven assessed. "Corruption started transforming the body, but something killed it before completion. Now, the mist is reclaiming the failed creation."
"No visible wounds," Malvorn observed, reading the corpse through the ground. "Died from internal collapse, or killed by another beast."
"Something powerful," Draven suggested. "Something attacking the mutating victims before transformation completed."
Sylvara's analysis came through the bond: "The resonance signature is fractured. This was Noble-tier originally. Corruption enhanced its power, but something stopped it."
"So this zone didn't just kill through corruption," Draven concluded, a grim realization settling. "Something inside the zone is actively killing. Hunting. Executing mutating beasts."
"Or after they fully transformed," Malvorn added grimly. "And those corpses? Already dissolved completely. Only partially-mutated remains are visible because they were killed earlier. Fully-mutated corpses are absorbed."
They found more. Traveling deeper, bodies were scattered at random intervals. Servitor-tier. Noble-tier. Elite-tier. All suspended between beast and monster, death interrupting the corruption.
"Dozens," Draven counted, losing track. "Maybe hundreds. All killed before completion."
"Could be thousands dissolved," Malvorn countered. "These are just visible remainders. Whatever happened here... local apocalypse. Nothing survived."
Through the bond, Feyra's life element recoiled violently. Every beast within fifty kilometers... dead? All of them?
Then, they found two King-tier corpses. Separated by a hundred meters, both massive. The first—a Wind-element raptor. The second—a Thunder-element falcon. Both dead. Both powerful. Both killed.
"King-tier beasts," Malvorn said, respect audible in his bond-voice. "Both dead. Which means whatever killed them is stronger. Far stronger. King-tier with corruption enhancement is formidable, yet it was killed by something even more powerful."
"We're hunting an maybe lord-level threat," Draven concluded quietly. "One powerful beast survived, transformed, and killed everything else. It became the apex predator. Ruled the zone. Murdered all competition."
"And it is still here," Malvorn finished. "Somewhere. Deeper in. Waiting."
The Genesis Codex pulsed. Urgently.
"Warning," the Codex spoke. The voice, authoritative and certain, cut through the quiet dread. "Pseudo-Overlord entity detected."
Draven froze. "What?"
"Analyzing corruption signature. Power level assessment: Overlord-equivalent. Planetary attunement: Absent. Classification: Pseudo-Overlord. A corrupted Lord-tier beast achieving Overlord-level power without proper ascension catalyst. Threat assessment: Continental. Immediate danger: Extreme."
Silence. Draven processed the term. Pure corruption. Pure power. Pure madness.
"Where?" Draven asked, his hand gripping Stormfang.
"Zone center. Approximately fifteen kilometers ahead. Not approaching currently. Dormant. But aware. It has detected intrusion. It is assessing the threat. Deciding its response."
Malvorn's magnitude flickered. Zero rising. One. Two. Preparing. "If it attacks, Draven—"
"We survive," Draven finished. "We assess. We understand. Then we decide—fight or flee."
Through the bond, the pack stood ready.
Draven took a breath, steadying himself. He knew this was not a matter of if, but when.
Movement. Distant. Fifteen kilometers away. Something massive was stirring. Something was Awakening.
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