They reached the supermarket as the last daylight bled out of the sky, leaving the world a bruised purple.
The building squatted at the end of a cracked boulevard, now a concrete carcass, windows punched out, sign hanging by one rusted bolt. Inside, aisles stretched into suffocating dark. Everything trapped in the instant the world ended.
Rafe entered first. Knife out. Eyes moving. Not looking for shadows, he was looking for motion.
Nothing.
No clicking.
No claws.
No tremors through the floor.
Safe. For now.
They barricaded the entrance with fallen shelving. Luca wedged a freezer door across a side corridor, metal grinding against tile. Tomas climbed onto the checkout counter, taking overwatch. Yara lit a lantern. Its small gold flame pushed back the dark just enough to remind them they were still human.
Packs hit the floor. Loot spilled out, canned food, bottled water, clean blankets, medicine still sealed in plastic. A fortune in the slums. Rafe whistled low.
"This run already pays," he said. "We could turn back tomorrow and eat like kings."
Tomas grinned. "And miss the fortress? Not a chance."
They ate in silence. Beans. Hard bread. Slow breathing.
After, they swept the building. No risks left unchecked. They moved aisle by aisle, calling quiet signals. Frankie went last, senses brushing every shelf, every shadow. She didn't just see darkness she felt the space. Distances. Weight. Structural weakness in ceiling beams. Gaps large enough for something to drop through.
When they finished, Rafe nodded once. Approved.
Watch shifts were set. Frankie took first.
She climbed onto a high counter overlooking the aisles. From here she could see everything and nothing could reach her without her knowing first.
Below, the others drifted into the thin, twitching sleep of people who knew they might not wake.
They were alive because she had stepped into the dark ahead of them.
Frankie touched the amulet under her shirt.
It wasn't warm anymore.
It was alive.
She closed her eyes and let her mind fall inward. Not into words or numbers into sensation. Weight distribution. Muscle tension. Bone density. Reaction timing. Everything measured. Everything optimized.
The world had slowed.
If she moved, it would move for her.
She tested it.
A tin can sat on the far shelf. She flicked her finger.
The can shot off the shelf, denting metal with a sound that made Luca stir below. She hadn't even realized she'd put strength behind the motion. It unsettled her more than any monster had.
She thought of the tear again. Not a spell. Not power. Just refusal. A moment where reality obeyed because something inside her demanded it.
Her knife rested in her hand.
The steel felt different now. Not separate. Not external. Like it had grown from her grip. If she swung, the blade would cut and something else would follow, unseen and unstoppable.
A weapon made of will.
Luca shifted in his sleep below. Sofia's face surfaced in Frankie's mind. The thin blanket. The quiet hunger. The brave smile.
Frankie slid down from the counter and crossed the store without a sound. In a staff locker she found a winter jacket, thick, clean, real. She folded it carefully into her pack.
For Sofia.
Always for Sofia.
Power was growing inside her, patient and sharp.
But the jacket was proof she still remembered why.
Frankie returned to her post. The amulet pulsed once against her ribs, slow and satisfied.
Outside, Milan slept.
Inside, something new kept watch.
And far beyond the wall, the gods still had no idea what had slipped through their gate.