I wait until I see the glow. That faint, red-lit eye appears around the bend, steady and unhurried. It moves forward into the pocket. Perfect.
It’s too perfect, and for a second, I wonder if it knows. If this is part of its calculation too. Everything freezes. Fear grabs me in an icy grip and I can’t breathe.
The moment its full weight enters the fractured section, the ground beneath it shifts. The stone cracks under the pressure.
Now.
The filament lashes out, and I drop flat. It slices through the air where I was a second ago, embedding into the wall behind me with a sharp metallic snap.
Missed. That’s all we need. He moves fast from the side, grabbing the extended filament before it can retract. He twists, forcing tension into it, pulling it tight across the fractured stone.
The creature reacts by pulling harder, which is exactly what we want. The tension builds as the metal line draws taut. Above us, the stone groans and the cracks deepen, spidering outward.
“More!” I shout, scrambling up, grabbing the loose rock near my side and driving it down onto the filament, forcing it tighter, wedging it against the weak points. The creature pulls harder.
The line vibrates violently, then the ceiling gives. Stone fractures, then collapses.
A section of the ceiling slams onto its back, pinning part of its body to the ground, the impact driving it into the unstable floor.
Dust explodes into the air.
The filament snaps free. The creature jerks, not thrashing, adjusting, trying to compensate. The angle is wrong—its body twisted and partially trapped. And for the first time, it slows. I stare at it, chest heaving.
“Did we?—”
“No.”
His voice cuts through the dust. As if in response, the creature moves. Slower, but not stopped. Its head turns. That glowing eye flickers, changing, and my stomach drops.
“That’s not good.”
“No.”
The glow sharpens, focus narrowing—not predicting. Locking on me, then on him. Back and forth. Like it’s marking us.
“It knows us now.”
“Yes.”
Behind the creature, deep in the tunnel, something shifts. Another tremor from farther out. This damn thing is not alone.
“Kael—”
He doesn’t answer because he can’t. In the second I look back at him, he sways just slightly, then he drops. Hard.
Everything inside me goes still for a split second, then snaps into motion. I rush to him. Whatever we just did, whatever we just started, isn’t over, but he hits the ground hard.
“Kaelreth.”
My voice feels too thin in the space, swallowed by dust and the low, grinding sound of shifting stone. No response.
I drop to my knees, hands on him before I think, turning his head enough to see his face. His eyes are open but unfocused. His breathing is fast and shallow.
“Hey. Stay with me.”
My voice steadies as I say it, even if everything else in me does not. His gaze snaps to mine for a fraction of a second, then it slips again.
“I am—” he starts.
