Pike National Forest, Colorado, Year 2060
The forest always felt like home.
Even when the sun dipped low and shadows thickened between the pines, the place carried a warmth no city could mimic.
Asher Wren leaned back in his camping chair, the crackle of the fire painting his face orange. His little sister Lily sat cross-legged on the log beside him, marshmallow goo smeared across her chin. She laughed every time she tried to talk, making it worse.
"You look like a zombie," said Jacob, Asher's younger brother, who was twelve and had the smug look of someone who'd roasted his marshmallow to golden perfection. He popped it into his mouth whole and grinned.
"I do not!" Lily squealed. She tried to wipe her chin with her sleeve, only smearing the white sugar mess into her hair. "Mom!"
Their mother, Caroline, shook her head, long auburn hair swaying as she laughed. "Sweetheart, you're supposed to eat it, not wear it." She reached for a napkin from the folding table cluttered with food packs.
"That's debatable," Asher said, deadpan, which earned him a light smack on the arm from his dad.
"Hey, don't start," David Wren warned, though he was smiling. He had the same dark hair and broad shoulders as Asher, though his eyes carried a softness Asher doubted he'd ever inherit. "Camping's for fun, not sibling warfare."
"Exactly!" Jacob said. "Fun. Which means Lily should be banned from jokes."
"I'm funny!" Lily shot back, pouting.
"Name one time you were funny."
"Right now. Look at me." She spread her marshmallow-covered hands wide like a performer taking a bow.
Even Asher cracked a laugh at that.
Caroline shook her head, folding the napkin and gently dabbing at her daughter's sticky cheeks. "Don't encourage them," she told Asher and David. "You two are supposed to set examples."
"I think we're doing great," Asher said with mock seriousness.
David raised his tin mug of coffee. "To our terrible examples."
The kids lifted their mugs of hot chocolate in solidarity. Marshmallows bobbed in the steaming liquid, slowly dissolving.
The forest held them in its hush, cicadas buzzing somewhere, a distant owl echoing through the trees. The fire crackled like punctuation marks to their laughter. For a little while, the world felt as though it could stay this way forever.
Caroline leaned back in her chair, smiling at them all, cheeks glowing from the firelight. "I could sit here forever. Just us. No noise, no traffic, no—"
"What is that?" Asher cut her off. He had felt it first before he noticed it. A strange hum inside his body, like his bones were vibrating, like his heart was beating in time to a sound he couldn't hear. And then he heard it, a quiet shrill sound, like a snake hissing, but sharper.
And then…
And then he noticed it.
At the edge of the firelight, just behind his mother, the air wavered, like heat rising off asphalt. Only it was vertical, not horizontal. It wasn't smoke—he blinked to be sure. It was sharper, thinner, like a line being drawn on nothing. It was a hairline crack in the dark.
Jacob followed Asher's gaze. Then Lily. Both of their faces drained of color.
Caroline frowned at their silence. "What? You're all staring at me like I've grown a second head."
Asher swallowed hard. His voice came out a whisper. "Mom… don't turn around."
She stiffened. "What?"
"Just… stand up. Slowly. Come here." He extended his hand toward her, every muscle taut.
David saw it too now, his breath catching in his throat. "It's a rift, honey," he said, trying to sound calm. "It'll be okay. Just… come here. Don't look back."
Caroline's eyes widened. Her hands trembled as she pushed herself up from the chair. "As in, a rift rift? Like the one that got Forever City—?"
The line split open before she could finish. Something punched through her chest from behind. A claw, long as a machete, black and glistening, erupted through her ribs. Caroline gasped, blood bubbling at her lips, eyes glassy with shock.
"Mom!" Lily screamed.
The creature leaned forward from the crack as if peeling itself from another reality.
Its head was wolf-like, elongated jaw lined with teeth that bent inward like hooks. Skin stretched in black, armor-like plates across its shoulders, glistening with a slime that hissed where it hit the firelight. Its eyes—too many of them, at least six—glowed violet and crimson.
Before Caroline could collapse, the monster opened its jaws wide and bit clean through her neck. Her head vanished into its maw.
The campsite exploded in screams.
David lunged forward, only to be knocked backward by the swing of another claw.
Lily fell off the log, scrambling backward into Asher's legs.
Jacob shouted incoherently, his voice breaking.
Asher didn't think. He grabbed the biggest stick from the fire pit, embers still glowing at the end, and charged. He swung with everything he had, smashing the burning wood against the monster's plated hide. The impact sent sparks flying but did nothing.
The noxian's backhand caught Asher across the chest. The world spun as he flew backward. He slammed into a tree trunk with a crack that rattled his skull. Pain exploded behind his eyes; the forest blurred, doubled, spun. Through ringing ears, he heard the nightmare continue. His father's roar of rage cut short with a tearing sound. Jacob's high-pitched shriek warped into a gurgle. Lily screamed for her mom, for Asher, before it ended in a choking silence.
Asher blinked against the blood in his eyes. The fire blurred, shapes twisting, shadows wrong. But some details cut through the haze—his father lifted into the air, impaled on claws that punched through his chest like spears. His body was split in two with a casual wrench. Jacob's arm fell near the fire, severed at the shoulder. His body was tossed aside like garbage. Lily was plucked up by one spindly claw and bitten in half.
Asher's heart didn't break. It disintegrated. He tried to scream, but all that came out was a rasp. Tears blurred the massacre, but every moment carved itself into him, branded into his mind. His body wanted to collapse. To curl into the dirt and vanish.
But some other force inside him, grief twisted into something sharper, dragged him upright. He staggered to his feet, ribs aching, skull pounding. His eyes locked on the beast, still chewing, blood steaming on its teeth.
The monster turned. Its six eyes met his. It tilted its head, as though curious. Asher stared back, his face wet with tears, his vision swimming, his body trembling. His whole being screamed in silent defiance, 'You took them! You took everything!' Slowly, he bent down and picked up the stick again. His hands shook as he gripped it with both hands.
The noxian's throat rumbled with a growl that made the air quiver, sending that strange vibration through Asher's body again. It crouched, claws gouging the dirt.
Asher's breath came ragged. His teeth clenched. Then he ran, charging toward the thing that took everything from him.
The monster charged too, its roar splitting the night, shaking the trees. Asher pulled air into his lungs and roared back—an emotion roar, filled with the greatest pain he'd ever known. He sprinted faster, tears flying from his face. He raised the stick over his head, both hands gripping it like a sword. Then he leapt.
The monster's claws arced upward to finish him in mid-air.
Just before contact, light filled the night, white, blinding.
Asher blinked awake.
His body was heavy, wrapped in stiff sheets. A ceiling swam above him, sterile and tiled. Pain throbbed in his head. His left arm was bound in plaster, suspended. Bandages circled his skull. The smell of disinfectant filled his nose.
Am I… in a hospital? he thought vaguely. He blinked again, groaning as light hit his eyes. For a second, just a second, his irises flickered. Purple, deepening to crimson, pulsing faintly. Then they dimmed, brown once more.
Asher lay there, staring at nothing, hollow.