The Porin Forest swallowed them whole.
Fog clung to their ankles like grasping fingers, cold and damp. Above, the moon hung as a pale crescent, barely visible through tangled, skeletal branches that twisted together like exposed ribs. Crickets were silent. That alone unsettled Clyde. In forests like this, silence was never natural.
Only the crunch of wet leaves beneath their boots broke the quiet.
They were halfway in when Marlowe spoke under his breath."According to the report, a boy disappeared here at sunset."
Clyde swallowed. The fog thickened, pressing against his ears, dulling sound as though the forest itself wished to hide what moved within it.
Then it struck him.
A violent jolt tore through Clyde's mind. His vision warped, the forest dissolving into fractured shadows. He saw a child. Small. Shaking. Crying. Hands reaching out in desperate pleading.
Then came the sound.
A heart bursting apart.
A howl followed, raw and ecstatic, as something tore into it.
Clyde staggered, dropping to one knee. His violet, star-filled eyes flared to life, constellations igniting within them as Hollow Star reacted on instinct.
Marlowe was at his side instantly, steadying him."What did you see?"
Clyde fought for breath, his voice unsteady."A child's heart. It is happening now. The Howling is close."
Marlowe nodded once."Then we move."
The scream came moments later, sharp and broken, echoing through the trees. The Howling burst from the fog, blue flesh stretched tight over warped limbs. Its movements were erratic, driven by hunger rather than reason.
Marlowe stepped forward, calm and precise.
He reached beneath his coat and drew his Echo Gun.
The weapon was compact, obsidian-black, etched with worn lunar sigils. It hummed softly, gathering compressed sound.
The Howling thrashed again, cracks forming in the barrier.
Marlowe aimed carefully. Not at the head. Not at the limbs.
At the chest.
The shot was sharp and focused.The sonic round tore through flesh and bone, shattering the Howling's heart in a single, contained burst.
The creature convulsed once before collapsing inward as the vibration faded.
The Moon Cage dissolved.
Silence returned.
Marlowe lowered his weapon, exhaling slowly. Clyde stood frozen, heart pounding.
"You are incredible," Clyde whispered.
Marlowe reloaded with a quiet click, his expression serious."Stay close to me. That was one of the weakest Howlings."
His gaze swept the fog ahead."The ones that take villages are far worse."
Clyde turned his attention to the child.
The boy appeared ordinary. Too ordinary. His clothes were clean. His face unmarked. He stood motionless, breathing shallowly. Yet the air around him felt unnaturally heavy, as though the forest avoided him.
Then memory struck like ice.
Captain Marek's report echoed in Clyde's mind."The missing boy was found. Safe."
Clyde's breath caught.
If the boy had already been found, then who was standing here?
The child's eyes lifted slowly. Dull. Glassy. Empty. They did not focus. His lips twitched, pulling upward into something that resembled a smile, but failed to complete it.
"Don't," Clyde whispered, every instinct screaming.
The boy lunged.
His jaw split apart with a wet tearing sound, stretching beyond human limits. Skin ripped along his cheeks, exposing muscle and bone. Fingers elongated mid strike, joints snapping as they bent backward into crooked, thornlike hooks.
Clyde shut his eyes, reaching inward for Hollow Star.
Nothing answered.
The forest stilled.
Then a cold voice spoke."Enough," Aldric said.
The air grew heavy.
Clyde felt it in his chest, a sudden crushing pressure. Leaves flattened. Fog sank, dragged downward by an unseen force.
The child's body snapped backward mid lunge.
Gravity shifted around him. His momentum reversed as the space he occupied became unbearably dense. His spine bowed, boots scraping uselessly as he was pinned in midair by crushing force.
He hung there, trembling.
The pressure increased in controlled pulses. Aldric was not lifting him. He was amplifying the weight of the space itself, compressing the boy within his own mass.
Then the change began.
The child's chest bulged outward as his lungs strained against impossible pressure. Ribs pressed against skin, stretching it thin and pale. Veins darkened, branching across his torso like fractures in glass.
A sharp crack split the air.
Bone tore through flesh. Then another. His ribcage pried itself open from within as something expanded under relentless force. Blood streamed downward, dripping heavily onto the forest floor.
His spine lengthened.
Vertebrae slid apart one by one, grinding audibly as gravity reshaped him into something longer, heavier, and wrong. Skin resisted, then split apart in ragged seams.
It peeled away.
Long strips of flesh collapsed under their own weight. Beneath them, a segmented form writhed, thickening as mass redistributed unnaturally. His arms cracked at the shoulders, bones folding inward before dissolving into the growing body.
Then the legs emerged.
Pairs unfolded from beneath the ruptured form, dragged free by the pull of gravity. They struck roots and stone as they extended, slick with blood, each impact followed by the scrape of hardening chitin.
The boy's face failed last.
His features sagged under pressure, eyes stretching before sliding downward, mouth collapsing into a meaningless shape. The skin finally tore free and fell among the leaves.
What remained was no longer human.
A centipede Howling coiled where the child had been.
Its body stretched the length of a carriage, encased in dark blue chitin that pulsed faintly with trapped life. Beneath the shell, fragments of ribs, skulls, and fingers pressed outward as if seeking escape. Its many legs moved in slow, synchronized waves, each step sending vibrations through the ground.
Two pale eyes opened.
They held no thought.
Only hunger.