All of its eyes opened at once.
Dozens of pale pupils fixed themselves onto Souro beneath the fractured moon.
For a moment, the world went still.
The wind stopped.
The silver grass froze mid-sway.
Even the distant hum in the air seemed to disappear.
Souro tried to move.
He couldn't.
Not because his body refused—
But because something deeper told him not to.
The creature took a step forward.
The ground cracked beneath its weight. Its limbs bent unnaturally, joints folding the wrong way before snapping back into place. Its silhouette blocked part of the broken moon, turning the silver plains darker.
It wasn't an animal.
It wasn't human.
It was something that did not belong.
And yet—
It was staring at him like prey.
Without warning, it vanished.
The air tore apart with a sharp distortion, and it reappeared directly in front of him. A massive claw descended toward his chest.
Souro didn't think.
He raised his arm instinctively.
The claw never reached him.
Just inches from his skin, the air rippled.
Like glass refusing to shatter.
A sharp cracking sound echoed across the plains.
Fractures spread across the creature's limb instead.
The claw trembled—
Then split.
A distorted shriek ripped from its many mouths as it staggered back.
Souro stared at his own hand.
He hadn't blocked it.
He hadn't struck.
The world itself had rejected the attack.
A burning sensation spread from the crescent mark on his wrist, pulsing in rhythm with the fractured moon above. Silver light flickered faintly around him, barely visible—but undeniably there.
The creature's eyes changed.
Not hunger.
Not rage.
Recognition.
It understood what he was.
And it feared it.
Pain hit Souro suddenly.
His knees buckled. The silver glow flickered violently. Blood ran warm beneath his nose.
Whatever had protected him… it had cost something.
The creature let out a final warped howl.
Then its body twisted inward, folding into the shadow beneath it like smoke being pulled through a crack.
And it was gone.
Silence returned.
Souro dropped to one knee, breathing hard.
His heart pounded against his ribs. His body felt heavier now—like it was barely holding together.
"I just got here…" he muttered weakly.
He looked up at the cracked moon.
It pulsed once.
Faint.
Distant.
Almost alive.
A strange certainty settled into his mind.
That thing hadn't attacked randomly.
It had come because of him.
Because of the mark.
Because of the class he didn't understand.
Somewhere beyond the silver horizon, something shifted.
Watching.
Waiting.
Souro slowly stood, wiping the blood from his face.
"If this is another world…"
His voice was steadier now.
"…then I'm not dying again."
The wind returned.
And far away, beyond sight—
Something else opened its eyes.