Sometimes you see flashes—people crossing through. They don’t last. Most of them burn out before they even realize where they are, and I don’t stick around to watch. What’s the point? Can’t help them. Can’t save them.
Fuck, I can’t even save myself.
Last time I followed a glow, it screamed until it turned to ash. Took me a week to stop hearing it.
Best I can do is not become another pile of ash myself.
My breath catches, something just shifted.
I stop mid-step, which is stupid because I wasn’t going anywhere anyway. There’s nowheretogo. Just endless nothing in every direction.
But I feel it—this ripple, like someone dropped a rock in water and the wave just reached me.
“Huh.”
I scan the dark out of habit. Not that there’s ever anything to see.
Except—
There.
A flicker. Silver. Gone before I can blink.
My chest does something weird. Tight. Unfamiliar.
Oh.
That’swhat hope feels like.
I’d almost forgotten.
“Great,” I mutter. “Now I’m hallucinating.”
But the feeling doesn’t fade. It digs in, hooking under my ribs and pulling. Not metaphorically—my skin prickles like I brushed up against static. Like something out there already has a hand wrapped around my ribs and istugging.
The air shifts. Just slightly. Carries something it shouldn’t—a scent. Clean. Sharp. Like ozone after lightning.
I freeze.
That’s new.
Not Ethos. I’d know that bastard’s presence anywhere—feels like drowning in oil. This is different. Cleaner. Almost… warm.
Someone’s here.
Someone new.
I laugh. It comes out bitter and sharp. “Oh, you poor idiot.”
Whoever just crossed into the Void has no idea what they walked into. Ethos is probably already circling, deciding whether to play nice or go straight for the throat.
Smart move would be to keep walking the other way. Let whoever it is deal with Ethos on their own. Maybe he’ll be busy enough that he forgets about me for a while. Let someone else bleed first.
If Ethos is already on them, maybe I can use the distraction. Get closer without him noticing me for once.
That’s how I’ve survived this long—by being invisible, insignificant, not worth his attention.
But that pull in my chest won’t quit.
