"A wing ship," I breathed, barely believing my eyes. "But how?—"
Behind us, the denizen's wail split the air again, closer this time. Much closer. We sprinted toward the ship, my lungs burning, feet pounding. The gangplank was down, as if waiting for us, though rust and decay had nearly eaten through it.
"It can't possibly still work," I gasped as we approached. "It looks ancient."
"We don't need it to fly," Cypher said. "We just need to hide."
We were almost there when I felt something cold brush against my back. I didn't have to look to know what it was. The denizen had caught up.
Cypher spun around, shoving me hard behind him. "Get on board! Now!"
I stumbled backward toward the gangplank as Cypher faced the creature. This close, I could see details I wished I couldn't. I could see the way its limbs appeared to phase in and out of existence, how its face rippled, never settling on one configuration for more than a second. It was as if the First Dark couldn't decide what creature it wanted to make, so it shifted between all of them.
"Cypher!" I screamed, one foot on the gangplank, unwilling to leave him.
He didn't look at me. His entire focus was on the denizen as he raised his hands. The corrupted magic poured from his fingertips, but different this time, more controlled. Maybe it was the panic. Maybe that's how it worked. The tendrils of darkness wrapped around the creature, shadow sinking into shadow. He was manipulating the very fabric of the First Dark itself, pulling it apart at the seams.
With a strangled curse, he wrenched his hands apart. The denizen split down the middle, its form shredding like mist in a strong wind. It made no sound as it dissipated, dissolving back into the darkness from which it had emerged.
Cypher fell to one knee, gasping for breath. His face was ashen, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Cypher!" I ran back to him, grabbing his arm, helping him to his feet. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," he gasped, though he clearly wasn't. "Just... takes a lot out of me. My magic is stronger here but it's more chaotic too. Stronger but harder to control."
I helped him up the gangplank and onto the ship. The interior was in better condition than the outside had suggested, though still ancient and decayed. Dust covered everything.
"What is this place?" I asked as we moved deeper into the ship. "How is there a wing ship in the First Dark?"
Cypher leaned against a wall, still catching his breath. "The First Dark has been around since the beginning of everything. It's the origin. Rifts have been finding their way here for thousands of years by complete accident. Most never leave."
"That's comforting," I muttered, examining our surroundings. The ship's design was older, more ornate. The control panels were covered in symbols I didn't recognize, andwhere modern ships had crystal matrices for navigation, this one had what looked like actual mechanical instruments.
"This ship is ancient," Cypher said, having recovered enough to join me. "Pre-Assembly design."
"Can it still fly?"
He ran his hand over a control panel, wiping away centuries of dust. "I doubt it. The power source would be long dead. But..." He trailed off, moving toward what must have been the captain's chair. Beneath it was a small compartment that he pried open with his knife.
"What are you looking for?" I asked, peering over his shoulder.
"Ships like this usually had emergency supplies. Maybe a map, or—" He pulled something out of the compartment. A small crystal that glowed with faint blue light. "Anchor crystal. Still has power after all this time."
"How is that possible?"
"The First Dark preserves things differently than the Gallery or stable realms. Time moves strangely here." He tucked the crystal into his pocket. "This might come in handy."
I moved to the viewports, trying to see if the denizen had somehow reformed or if others were approaching. The darkness outside seemed unchanged, but something about it made me uneasy. "Do you think there are more of those things out there?"
"Definitely. The denizens are drawn to outsiders. We need to keep moving."
"But we just got here," I protested. "Shouldn't we rest? You nearly collapsed after killing that thing."
"We can't stay," he said, already heading toward the exit. "This ship might offer temporary shelter, but it's also a beacon. Anything hunting out there will be drawn to it. It's too obvious."
I wanted to argue, but he knew more about this place than I did, and I didn't trust myself not to walk right into the arms of the next creature that wanted to eat me.
"Fine," I said, following him back to the gangplank. "But you need to tell me more about where we're going. The Genesis Engine. Whatexactlydoes it do? How do you know it's still here? How do you know it even exists?"
