The northern ridge marker leaned at a tired, defeated angle, half-swallowed by grey dust. Its divine sigil didn't glow anymore; it just flickered like a candle near death. Somewhere beyond the haze stood the city wall. Safety. Or the illusion of it.
Frankie saw them before they saw her.
Three figures near the stone. One pacing like a caged animal. One slumped against the marker. One lying flat on the ash.
Alive.
She raised a fist, stopping Luca before he could shout. They moved closer, boots whispering against stone. When the pacing boy finally noticed them, terror flipped to raw relief so fast it almost broke him.
"Frankie! Luca!"
His voice cracked. He grabbed Luca's shoulders like he needed proof they were real. The others looked up their faces smeared with dust, disbelief, and pain. The girl's arm was wrapped in bloody cloth. The boy on the ground had a swollen thigh wound that smelled faintly of rot.
They were wrecked. But breathing.
Luca dropped beside them, hands already moving with street-medic instinct.
"You shouldn't have moved him," he muttered. "That leg's going to split."
The pacing boy let out a jagged laugh. "Better split than eaten."
James sat apart from the group, back against a stone, rocking slightly. He clutched a cracked pendant in his fist and whispered the same phrase over and over.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Frankie didn't join the huddle. She watched the ruins. No movement. No scraping.
Not yet.
"We thought we were the last," the pacing boy said. "Marco ran for the wall hours ago. Said he'd bring a patrol." His eyes stayed fixed on the horizon. "He didn't come back."
Frankie knew what that meant.
"We have to move," Luca said, tightening a bandage. "If night hits us here, we're done."
"You take them," Frankie said. Her voice carried weight now. "Slow. Quiet. Stay in cover."
Luca looked up sharply. "And you?"
"I'm finding Marco."
The girl with the bandaged arm rasped, "You'll die alone."
Frankie met her gaze. She could see every thread in the bandage. Every tremor in the girl's hands.
"I won't."
Luca started to argue. Then he saw her eyes. Whatever lived there now was unfamiliar. He nodded once.
"Don't be long."
Frankie turned and ran.
Not recklessly. Not wildly. Just with purpose.
Each step landed exactly where she meant it to. The ruined streets blurred past. She followed scuffed prints, a torn strip of cloth, a dark splash of blood on stone.
Then she heard it.
Marco's scream.
High. Choked. Ending too fast.
Frankie vaulted a collapsed wall and dropped into a crouch.
Marco was backed against a column, spear shaking in his hands. Two scavengers circled him.
Rat-class.
Low. Lean. Segmented plating twitching over raw muscle. Their heads split open into a mouth full of glinting bone.
One lunged.
Marco thrust the spear. It skittered off plating. The creature swiped him aside like a rag doll. He hit the ground hard.
The second rat crouched to strike.
Frankie moved.
The first rat turned toward her. She slid under its leap but misjudged the landing. Claws raked her shoulder. Hot pain. Fabric tearing.
Too close.
She adjusted.
When it lunged again, she caught its tail with both hands. Swung. The creature hit the wall hard enough to crack stone. Before it could twitch, she drove an iron rod through its spine.
Shriek. Vibration. Dust.
The second rat came low and fast. It clipped her knee. She stumbled, teeth grinding. Pain flared.
Not fatal. Not enough.
She hooked its hind leg with her foot and shoved. The creature stumbled for half a heartbeat.
That was enough.
Frankie grabbed its skull and slammed it into broken stone. Then the rod punched into its torso joint.
The hum filled the air. Cracks spread. Silver light bled out.
Then both creatures dissolved into drifting white dust.
Silence.
Marco was shaking so hard his teeth chattered. Tears cut clean tracks through the grime on his face.
"I'm sorry," he whispered again.
Frankie grabbed his collar and hauled him upright like he weighed nothing.
"Walk."
They moved fast, keeping low. By the time they reached the ridge, Luca was already lifting the wounded. His eyes widened when he saw Marco.
"You actually found him."
Frankie didn't answer. They formed a ragged line and started toward the city haze.
Only then did the heat bloom in her chest.
Not pain.
Feeding.
Then the Text appeared again
Dominion absorbed.
Speed +2
Level 3 achieved. + 1 to all stats
Strength 4 | Speed 5 | Agility 3 | Vitality 3
Dominion: 0 / 300
The text faded.
Frankie kept walking. The numbers hummed in her thoughts. Humanoid prey gave strength. Rat-prey gave speed. And it looks like when I gain a level all of the stats increase. That's good to know.
A new question took root though.
How many kinds were out here?
She looked toward the distant wall. Toward the gods. Toward the city that had sent her to die.
Frankie didn't feel like meat anymore.
She felt like the blade.