The chain lashed out across the gap the instant the first eel-thing surged up the bridge pillar.
Jax felt the links bite deep before he even registered the impact. These weren't the slow, barnacled terror he'd just leashed.
These things moved like they had stolen human hunger and made it faster: long, sinuous bodies covered in slick black skin, each fin ending in pale, grasping fingers that clutched at stone and air with desperate greed. The fingers twitched independently, like they still remembered the hands they used to be.
Calculate, Jax thought, the cold math cutting through the chaos. Bridge is narrow. Three meters wide at best. If they flank from below, we're pinned. One slips past and it's over. He yanked the chain back, dragging the lead creature halfway out of the water. Its mouth split open sideways, revealing rows of needle teeth and a throat lined with more tiny fingers reaching out.
Mira was already beside him, left shoulder dipping in that same odd rhythm as she planted her feet. Lightning crackled up her arms, but it came slower now, like her body was rationing every spark. She slammed a palm against the stone railing and sent a bolt racing down the pillar. The eel-thing convulsed, fingers curling tight then spasming open.
The smell that rolled off it was wrong: rotten kelp mixed with something metallic and personal, like old blood left too long in the underlevels.
"Two more on the left pillar," Lira said behind them, voice tight. Her fingers kept tracing the same small circle on her thigh, faster now, the motion almost frantic. Blood had dried in a thin line from her nose to her chin.
"In seven seconds they reach the top. One of them carries a face I almost recognize."
Jax didn't look. He couldn't afford to. Instead he twisted the chain, feeding the new terror echo into the strike. The links flared cold blue for a heartbeat. The leashed terror answered... part of its bulk surged up from the depths below the bridge and slammed into the pillar from underneath.
Stone cracked. The eel-thing lost its grip and tumbled back into the black water with a splash that sounded too much like a scream.
Power flooded into Jax again, sharper this time. The echo didn't just give strength; it showed him things.
Lena, older, standing in floodwater up to her waist, reaching for him while he hesitated on a higher ledge because the pay for one more run had looked better than saving her. The guilt hit like a fist to the ribs, but he used it: channeled the anger into the next pull. Not today. Not her face again. He forced the vision down and focused on the math.
Two left on this side. One already wounded.
Finish them before they coordinate.
The second eel-thing lunged over the railing, fingers scrabbling for Mira's ankle. She kicked it square in the jaw, lightning exploding on contact. The creature's head jerked back, but its fingers kept reaching, wrapping around her boot even as its body smoked. Mira's face twisted; not just from pain, but that shoulder tic kicking in harder, like her body was fighting an old memory of being pulled under.
Jax whipped the chain sideways. It wrapped the thing's midsection and yanked it off her. The links sank deep. Another surge. Another flash of Lena, this time her coughing up black water while he counted coins in the alley instead of running straight back. The echo was learning what hurt him most and serving it up neat.
Kael's presence pressed closer, dry and patient, no jokes left. You feel it, don't you? Every bind makes the memories sharper. Soon you won't need me to show you. You'll do it yourself.
"Shut up," Jax muttered under his breath.
Lira suddenly stepped forward, hand outstretched. She touched the third eel-thing as it crested the railing. The creature froze mid-lunge, fingers splayed wide. Then it simply unraveled, skin peeling away in wet strips that dissolved into shadow before they hit the stone. Lira gasped, knees buckling. The circle-tracing on her thigh stopped for the first time. "That one was almost me," she whispered. "Three futures ago."
The bridge fell quiet again. The water below churned once, then settled. Jax stood breathing hard, chain coiled heavy in his grip. The new echoes inside it felt crowded now; terror and these finger-things all pressing against each other, testing the leash. His wrist ached where the links had bitten deepest. Small price. He could still move.
Mira leaned against the railing, flexing her ankle where the fingers had gripped. A fresh bruise was already darkening, shaped oddly like a child's handprint. "They almost had me. That shoulder lock… it happens when I push too hard. Reminds me of the day the flood took my little brother. I held on too long then too." She shook her head once, like clearing water from her ears. "Doesn't matter. We're across."
Lira straightened slowly, wiping the last blood from her chin. Her milky eyes flicked toward Jax. "The script on those towers ahead is moving faster now. It's spelling warnings. Not for us. For whatever's coming behind us from the real world. The bleed is widening. I saw Cascade Spire for a second; monsters with too many fingers crawling out of the underlevel drains."
Jax rolled his wrist, testing the chain. It responded smoother than before, almost eager. The cold calculation settled back in. Lena's clock is still running. Every minute here might be the one that kills her. Stronger chain means faster progress. Faster progress means more binds. More binds mean more of her face in my head. He hated how clean the math was. Hated how right it felt.
"We don't stop," he said. "Those towers look like they used to be a hub. Maybe supplies, maybe answers. Either way, we hit them before the next wave smells us."
The bridge ended at a shattered plaza that sloped upward into the twisted towers. The glowing script on the walls rearranged itself as they approached: letters forming half-words in languages that hurt to look at directly. One phrase lingered longer than the others: "THE LEASH REMEMBERS WHAT THE HAND FORGOT."
Kael's voice slid in again, quieter, closer to the bone. It does, meat. And it's learning your hand very well.
Jax ignored it outwardly. Inside he filed the warning away. Calculate the risk. The chain is growing teeth. I need to stay the one holding the handle.
Mira fell in on his left, shoulder still dipping every third step.
Lira took the right, fingers resuming their small compulsive circle on her thigh. The towers loomed closer, their melted-refrozen surfaces reflecting distorted versions of the three of them: Jax with the chain wrapped around his own throat in one reflection, Mira's lightning burning her from the inside in another, Lira's eyes seeing nothing but endless shortening futures.
They stepped into the shadow of the first tower just as the water far behind them rippled again, heavier this time. Something larger had noticed the fresh echoes on the chain.
Jax tightened his grip and kept walking.
Let it come. I'll make it pay the same price.