The forest grew cold.
Not physically—temperatures meant little to Zerrei—but spiritually, like a long shadow stretched across the Spinewood from a distant place. The roots beneath their feet vibrated with uneasy tension. The air thickened with a sharp metallic tang Zerrei had never felt before, not even during Vessel Five's pursuit.
It wasn't the forest's breath.
It was something else.
Something approaching.
The Creator.
Zerrei held his arms tightly against his chest, feeling the faint warmth of his Heartglow pulsing beneath the golden-thread mark. The pulse was shaky, unsteady. His body remembered the hands that carved him, the voice that commanded him, the cold expectations etched into his core.
He felt small again.
He hated it.
"Zerrei," Lyra said softly, stepping beside him. "We're leaving. Now."
He nodded—it was all he could manage.
Arden gripped his axe, his voice unusually quiet. "Not that I want to admit fear, but… are we running from something we can't even see?"
Oren adjusted his glasses and looked into the forest canopy, eyes wide. "We're not just running. We're evacuating before the threat manifests."
Arden blinked. "Which is fancy mage-speak for—?"
"For run faster," Oren croaked.
Vessel Five stood slightly behind Zerrei—not in submission, not as a protector, but as something trying to understand where it belonged. Its blue core flickered weakly, still stabilizing after Zerrei's intervention.
Yet beneath the flicker, something new pulsed within the hunter—
Choice.
A word that should never have applied to a vessel.
Zerrei stole a glance at the massive creature. Vessel Five lowered its head slightly—as if sensing Zerrei's gaze—then straightened in a slow, calculated movement.
"…movement detected… unnatural…" Vessel Five murmured.
Oren stiffened. "Unnatural how? Spatial distortion? Mana ripple? Residual arcane signals?"
Vessel Five's eyes flickered.
"…Creator… trace…"
Zerrei's wooden frame tightened as if pulled by invisible strings.
Lyra immediately stepped in front of him—not blocking him, but creating space for him to breathe.
"Zerrei," she said calmly, "look at me."
He did.
"You are not going back to him," she said, firm as steel.
His breath trembled. "What if I don't have a choice?"
"You do," Lyra said. "You've proven that."
Arden jabbed a thumb at Vessel Five. "You literally convinced the kill-machine who chased us for days to have an existential crisis."
"I didn't—" Zerrei began.
"You did," Arden insisted. "Don't downplay it."
Oren nodded. "Zerrei… your evolution has reached a point the Creator didn't anticipate. You are not bound to him. Not anymore."
But Zerrei's voice shook. "He still made me."
"And?" Arden shrugged. "Lots of things make lots of things. Doesn't mean they own what they made."
Lyra stepped closer. "Zerrei… he created you. But he did not define you."
The golden-thread mark warmed beneath Zerrei's touch.
He nodded faintly… but fear lingered like a cold stain beneath his Heartglow.
They began moving north.
The group traveled with careful urgency—swift but quiet. The forest rustled anxiously around them. The trees bent subtly as if pointing them forward, toward deeper sections of the Spinewood rarely crossed by humans.
Zerrei stayed between Lyra and Vessel Five.
He didn't know whether he was safer from Vessel Five or safer because of Vessel Five.
Perhaps both.
Arden muttered as they walked, "You know what I hate? Things with no footsteps. Creepy things. Things that float."
"That's a surprisingly specific fear," Oren muttered.
Arden glared. "I like to hear what's coming!"
Lyra tapped two fingers against a nearby trunk. "Quiet. Listen."
Everyone halted.
Zerrei did too.
For a moment, only silence pressed against them.
Then he heard it.
A faint hum.
Not like insects.
Not like wind.
It vibrated through the air in waves—measured, rhythmic, unnatural.
Zerrei's head snapped up. "That's him."
Oren's breath hitched. "How can you tell?"
"I don't know," Zerrei whispered. "But I feel it."
The hum dug beneath his wooden skin, crawling along his seams.
Vessel Five jerked suddenly—its limbs twitching, core sparking violently.
Oren cursed. "It's reacting to the Creator's trace—its directive chain is triggering!"
Zerrei ran to Vessel Five, gripping its arm. "Stop—don't let it take you!"
Blue lightning raced across the hunter's frame.
"…recalling… recalling… rec—…"
Zerrei yelled, "No! You're free! You chose— you chose not to follow!"
The blue light exploded in a starburst—
then dimmed.
Vessel Five jerked its head as if breaking invisible shackles.
"…override… rejected…"
Zerrei exhaled hard, nearly collapsing with relief.
But then—
The forest screamed.
Not in sound.
In mana.
A shockwave pulsed through the trees, bending trunks, shaking leaves loose in a shower of green and gold. Birds scattered. Roots trembled. The earth hummed with a resonance that was not natural.
That was intrusion.
Lyra grabbed Zerrei by the arm and yanked him toward her. "Move!"
"What was that?!" Arden shouted, stumbling back.
Oren's face went white. "Mana displacement. Long-distance projection. Something just made contact with the local arcane field."
Lyra snapped, "Meaning?"
"The Creator knows where Zerrei is."
Zerrei's Heartglow sputtered like a candle in a storm.
A crackling echo whispered through the trees—ghostly, weightless, and wrong.
Not a voice.
Something worse.
A presence.
Arden cursed loudly. "FANTASTIC. HE'S HERE BUT NOT HERE. A GHOST MAD SCIENTIST."
Lyra's teeth clenched. "No. He's sending a projection. A scout. A tether."
Zerrei shivered.
He remembered when the Creator once stood over him—cold, efficient, indifferent. The memory slid behind his wooden eyes like a shadow resurfacing after years of hiding.
Zerrei stumbled. "He shouldn't be able to reach this far. I shouldn't be visible to him."
Oren answered, breathless. "Your resonance with Vessel Five created a shockwave large enough to light up the arcane grid. It wasn't your fault—just unlucky timing."
Arden shook his axe. "Oh yeah? Lucky us."
Vessel Five turned toward the woods, its claws digging deep grooves in the soil.
"…Creator… approaching… vector unstable…"
Lyra's voice sharpened. "We need shelter. Somewhere shielded."
Oren nodded urgently. "The deeper Spinewood has mana pockets—thick concentrations that disrupt detection spells. If we reach them, we can break the scout link."
Arden exhaled. "Great. So we're running into an even spookier part of the spooky forest."
Lyra grabbed his collar. "Move."
Arden moved.
The deeper they went, the stranger the forest became.
The leaves darkened into a deep emerald.
The bark grew metallic ridges that glimmered when brushed.
The ground pulsed like a heartbeat, warm under their feet.
Zerrei felt the forest's breath again—not calm, but anxious.
As if trying to shield him.
As if it understood something powerful was searching.
Vessel Five's core flickered violently.
Its limbs twitched.
Its breathing came in harsh mechanical bursts.
Zerrei ran beside it. "You can resist him. You're not bound anymore."
Vessel Five's head jerked. "…attempting… override… r—re—…"
Zerrei touched the hunter's arm.
Golden light spread from his hand to the faint cracks along Vessel Five's frame.
The twitching slowed.
The core steadied.
Zerrei whispered, "You're free. Choose."
The hunter stabilized.
"…choose… resist…"
Arden yelled behind them, "Zerrei, stop taming the monster and RUN!"
Lyra pulled Zerrei forward. "Arden is right. Move. You've done enough for the moment."
Zerrei nodded shakily.
But the uneasy presence followed.
Like footsteps
without feet.
Like breath
without lungs.
Unseen.
Unheard.
But very real.
Oren suddenly froze mid-stride.
"STOP!"
Lyra halted instantly, blade out.
Arden stumbled into a tree. "Warn the guy carrying all the heavy stuff next time!"
Oren ignored him. His staff glowed faint purple as he scanned the air.
Zerrei felt it too.
A coldness—thin as a needle, sharp as a whisper—brushed against his chest.
The golden-thread mark flared painfully.
"Something touched me," Zerrei gasped.
Lyra seized his wrist. "Where?"
Zerrei pressed his hand to the mark. "Here. Like… cold fingers."
Oren hissed. "It's a trace-mark."
Lyra paled. "He tagged Zerrei?"
"Temporarily," Oren said quickly. "Not a full lock. Just a probing pulse. He's testing the connection."
Zerrei's knees weakened.
"I don't want him to find me."
Lyra lifted his chin gently with her hand. "He won't."
Arden stomped the ground. "Yeah! We'll punch him! Slash him! Mage him!"
Oren pinched his nose. "Please do not say mage him."
But the reassurance helped.
Vessel Five suddenly turned, body coiling in a defensive posture.
"…trace… intensifying…"
Zerrei clutched his chest. "He's pulling. He's trying to connect."
Arden raised his axe. "CUT THE CONNECTION!"
"It's metaphysical," Oren hissed. "You can't cut it with an axe!"
Arden grimaced. "I meant metaphorically! Gods!"
Lyra stepped in front of Zerrei. "Oren. What do we do?"
Oren scanned the surroundings frantically. "We need a mana well. A concentration strong enough to distort resonance—THERE!"
He pointed toward a cluster of towering trees whose bark glowed with soft blue veins.
Arden blinked. "Those trees look poisonous."
"They are poisonous," Oren muttered. "But also magically saturated. If we get inside, the Creator's trace will lose cohesion."
Lyra nodded. "Move."
They sprinted toward the glowing grove.
But Zerrei faltered.
Not from exhaustion.
Not from fear.
Because something whispered in his mind—faint, cold, familiar.
A thought that wasn't his.
Found you.
Zerrei staggered, clutching his head. "NO—no no no—"
Lyra grabbed him as he nearly collapsed. "Zerrei!"
Vessel Five roared—
a deep, metallic roar that shook the forest floor.
"…protect… Zerrei…"
Arden screamed. "IT TALKS IN FIGHT MODE TOO?!"
Oren shouted over the chaos, "The trace is forcing a direct psychic overlay! Keep him conscious!"
Zerrei's vision blurred.
He saw the forest around him fade—
replaced by stone, darkness, and a familiar cold laboratory.
The Creator's silhouette stood before him.
"You ran far," the figure whispered. "But distance means nothing."
Zerrei gasped, "Get out of my head!"
"You evolved beautifully," the Creator murmured. "And my hunter follows you now. Interesting."
Zerrei's Heartglow flared. "They're not yours. I'm not yours."
"Oh," the Creator said softly. "But you were."
Zerrei screamed—
—and the forest snapped back into view as Vessel Five slammed its claws into the ground beside him, breaking the psychic projection with raw force.
The golden-thread mark dimmed.
The pain subsided.
But the fear remained.
Lyra caught him before he fell. "Zerrei! Stay with me!"
He trembled violently. "He saw me. He knows I'm alive."
Oren's voice was tight. "Then we're out of time. Into the grove—now!"
They ran.
Zerrei stumbled through the glowing trees, Vessel Five towering protectively behind him, Lyra guiding him, Arden cursing, Oren directing—
—and as they entered the mana-saturated grove, the Creator's trace shattered like fragile glass.
Zerrei collapsed to his knees, breathing shaky and uneven, clutching the golden-thread mark.
Lyra knelt with him. "Zerrei. Talk to me. What did he do?"
"He…" Zerrei swallowed, "…he looked at me."
Arden hissed. "Hate that. Hate everything about that."
Oren sat down hard. "We can't stay here long. The Creator will search again. He will recalibrate."
Lyra looked around the glowing grove, then at Zerrei, then at Vessel Five.
"We stay long enough for Zerrei to breathe," she said firmly.
Zerrei trembled.
Vessel Five lowered its head beside him.
"…Zerrei… safe…"
Zerrei looked at the hunter—not as a threat, not as a reflection of fear, but as something that had chosen to resist the Creator.
Just as he had.
"Thank you," Zerrei whispered.
Vessel Five's blue eyes flickered warmly—briefly.
Lyra touched Zerrei's shoulder.
"He may have found your trace," she said softly. "But he hasn't found you. And we're going to make sure he never does."
Zerrei nodded—small, fragile, but real.
Because the Creator might be marching toward them.
But Zerrei wasn't helpless anymore.
He wasn't alone.
And somewhere inside him—
a quiet resolve began to grow.
He would not be taken again.
Not by the Creator.
Not by fear.
Not by the past.