The Eastern Forest. Night.
The tear opened silently.
No light. No sound. Just a crack in the air, thin and dark, widening just enough to let them through. It was smaller than the portal in the canyon, less violent, more controlled. The hunters had done this a thousand times. They had crossed between worlds for centuries, following Vorlag's will, hunting his prey.
The first hunter stepped through. Its body was solid now—more solid than when the portal in the canyon had first opened. It had been feeding. Growing. The strength it had absorbed from other vessels pulsed in its veins.
The second hunter followed. Its red eyes scanned the forest, the trees, the darkness. It could feel the mana in the air, thick and warm, richer than any world they had visited in years. The creatures that had come through the portal were breeding. Their cores were seeping into the soil, the water, the air.
The third hunter came last. It was the oldest, the most patient. It had been hunting for centuries, had tracked vessels across dozens of worlds. It knew the signs.
"The vessels are here," the lead hunter said.
The others nodded.
---
They moved through the forest like smoke.
The trees were thick, the ground soft, the moonlight thin. The hunters left no tracks. They made no sound. They had been doing this for centuries.
The lead hunter stopped. Raised its hand.
"I feel them," it said. "Ben. Tina. Davin."
The second hunter tilted its head. "The boy's teleportation is faint. He hasn't used it in days."
"The woman's lightning is muted. She's been suppressing it."
"But the swordsman." The lead hunter's red eyes gleamed. "He's been practicing. His blessing is strong. He's not hiding anymore."
The third hunter moved to a tree. Touched the bark. "The artifact is here too. Degrading. Weak. The internal structures are cracking."
"The vessels have been staying in one place." The lead hunter's voice was cold. "That's a mistake."
---
The second hunter scanned the forest. "There's something else."
The lead hunter turned. "What?"
"A presence. Not the vessels. Not the artifact. Something older."
The lead hunter closed its eyes. Reached out with its senses. The spatial echoes were faint, but there—the artifact's resonance, the vessels' blessings, the lingering trace of the portal that had opened and closed months ago.
And something else.
A thread. Faint, frayed, but still connected. To the void. To Vorlag.
"The vessel who escaped," the lead hunter said. "The one who closed the portal."
The second hunter's eyes widened. "He's here?"
"No." The lead hunter opened its eyes. "But he was. His trail leads away from this world. Through the void. To somewhere we cannot follow. Not yet."
The third hunter moved to stand beside them. "Do we report?"
The lead hunter was silent for a moment. It stared at the distant lights of the capital, where the vessels slept, where the artifact pulsed, where the people lived their lives unaware.
"Not yet," it said. "We watch. We wait. We learn."
"The vessels could leave. The artifact could take them anywhere."
"They're not leaving." The lead hunter's voice was certain. "They're tired. They've been running for years. They want to believe this world is safe."
"And if the one who closed the portal returns?"
The lead hunter's red eyes gleamed. "Then we will be ready."
---
The hunters spread out through the forest.
They found signs of the creatures—nests, tracks, the remains of recent kills. The creatures were breeding faster than the guild could cull them. The mana concentration was growing. The veil was thickening.
The second hunter knelt beside a creature's corpse. Touched its skin. "These are not from Vorlag's world."
"They came through the portal," the lead hunter said. "The same portal the vessel closed."
"They're adapting. Growing. Learning."
The lead hunter nodded. "They will spread. They will consume. This world will change."
"Vorlag will be pleased."
The lead hunter was silent for a moment. "Vorlag is not here."
The second hunter looked up. "But he will come."
"Yes." The lead hunter looked at the capital. "He will come."
---
The hunters settled into the trees.
They did not sleep. They did not eat. They simply watched. Their red eyes glowed in the darkness, unseen by the people below.
The lead hunter reached out with its senses again. The vessels were still. The artifact was still. The thread connecting to the vessel who had escaped was still frayed, still faint, but still there.
"He's alive," the lead hunter said.
The second hunter looked at it. "The one who closed the portal?"
"Yes."
"Where is he?"
The lead hunter shook its head. "I cannot follow. The trail is too faint. But he is somewhere in the void. Trapped between worlds."
"Vorlag will want to know."
The lead hunter was silent for a moment. "Vorlag already knows."
---
The hours passed.
The moon crossed the sky. The stars shifted. The city slept.
The hunters watched.
They watched the guild hall, where the vessels slept. They watched the mages' tower, where the artifact pulsed. They watched the palace, where the King lay dying and the prince prepared to leave.
They did not move. They did not speak. They simply waited.
The lead hunter's red eyes never left the capital.
"Soon," it whispered.
The wind didn't answer.