The combined group moved out from the forward camp as the grey light of the Forgotten Shore settled into its familiar daytime intensity. The sheer number of them, a mix of Nephis's core team and the larger contingent, presented a formidable force. However, after an hour of navigating the treacherous ruins, Nephis called a halt in a relatively open, rubble-strewn plaza.
"This formation is too cumbersome," she announced, her voice cutting through the low morning chatter. "We'll draw too much attention and limit our maneuverability. We split into two main hunting parties. It'll allow us to cover more ground and be less conspicuous."
She quickly designated the teams. "I will lead one. Caster, Cassie, you're with me. We'll take half of Mason's people." Mason, the assigned leader of the larger group, nodded, already indicating a selection of his most reliable hunters.
"Effie," Nephis continued, turning to the tall huntress. "You'll command the second party. Henry, Ray, you're with her, along with the remainder of Mason's group. Standard hunting protocols. We will meet back at the headquarters at dawn. Stay alert."
With assignments clear, the two newly formed hunting parties diverged, each taking a different route into the surrounding sectors of the Dark City.
---
Nephis's team moved with quiet efficiency. Her leadership was, as always, direct and unambiguous. Caster scouted ahead, a silent shadow, his movements fluid as he navigated the debris, signaling back warnings or potential targets. Cassie, walking near Nephis, provided a constant stream of subtle information, her head tilted as she interpreted the tell-tale signs of Nightmare Creature presence that others would miss – the faint tremor in the ground, the unnatural stillness in an alley, the distant scrape of claw on stone.
Their first significant encounter was with a pack of Gaunt Hounds, fast, emaciated canine creatures with glowing red eyes and a chilling howl. Caster spotted them first, giving the group time to set up a quick ambush at a narrow chokepoint between two collapsed buildings. As the Hounds rushed in, Nephis met the alpha head-on, her sword a silver streak. The hunters Mason had assigned, clearly already experienced, formed a disciplined line, their spears and short swords creating a wall of steel. Cassie, meanwhile, pointed towards a weak point in the crumbling wall above the Hounds. "There! Unstable!" A well-aimed strike from one of the hunters brought a cascade of rubble down, momentarily disorienting and trapping a portion of the pack, allowing the rest to be dispatched with greater ease.
---
Effie's party, meanwhile, took a more direct, almost boisterous approach, fitting her personality. She led from the front, her shield raised, her voice calling out encouragement or warnings. Henry moved in close support, his sword ready, his eyes constantly scanning for threats, while the hunters with them fanned out, covering their flanks.
Ray brought up the rear, a position he didn't mind, though his focus felt… frayed. The lack of real sleep was slowly catching up. His body moved with ingrained skill, his senses remained sharp – perhaps too sharp, picking up every minute detail, which only added to his mental clutter – but a distinct weariness clung to him. He found himself rubbing his eyes frequently, a yawn threatening to escape more than once.
Their first notable challenge was a hulking, heavily armored beetle-like creature they stumbled upon trying to force its way into a sealed building, likely smelling prey within. Effie charged in with a battle cry, her shield taking the brunt of its powerful charge. The impact jarred her, but she held her ground.
"Ray, its underside! Henry, watch its pincers!" Effie bellowed, currently holding the beetle in place, thanks to the two chitinous claws of her particular memory.
Ray moved, but there was a fraction of a second's delay in his usually instantaneous reaction. He still executed the maneuver, phasing briefly to avoid a sweep of the creature's massive leg and thrusting his weapon towards its softer underbelly, but the explosive power he usually channeled felt muted. His strike landed true, drawing ichor, but it lacked its normal devastating impact.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Need some real sleep."
Henry, meanwhile, skillfully parried one of the creature's snapping pincers, creating an opening for the other hunters to rush in with their heavier weapons. The fight was a brutal, close-quarters affair, the confined space making the creature's bulk even more dangerous. Effie's steadfast defense and the combined assault eventually brought the armored beast down.
As they paused to catch their breath, Effie glanced at Ray. "You alright there, sleepyhead? Look like you're about to keel over."
Ray just grunted, offering a noncommittal shrug. "Just peachy."
---
Both teams continued their sweeps through their designated sectors. Nephis's group, guided by Cassie's uncanny perception and Caster's scouting, located a hidden nest of Shadow Creepers, harvesting valuable venom sacs and several intact soul shards after a swift, coordinated assault.
Effie's team, relying more on resilience and direct confrontation, battled their way through a section of ruins infested with grotesque, mutated rodents, each larger than a dog. Ray, forcing himself to focus through the haze of fatigue, still contributed effectively, his combat instincts deeply ingrained, but the joy or even the grim satisfaction he usually found in a fight was absent, replaced by a dull ache of exhaustion.
He knew his performance was subpar by his own standards, even if it was still more than capable enough for these encounters. The thought of another "night" in his Soul Sea filled him with a quiet dread that had nothing to do with Nightmare Creatures.
As the grey sky began to take on the deeper hues that signaled the approaching rise of the dark sea, the two parties, laden with the spoils of their hunts, began to converge back towards the agreed-upon rendezvous point at the foot of the hill. They had successfully maintained their cover and gathered a respectable haul. But for Ray, the end of the hunt only meant the beginning of another, more personal, nightly ordeal.
The now once more assembled large group began their ascent up the familiar, winding path leading to their main encampment. Their approach, a sizable column of weary but successful hunters, did not go unnoticed. Scouts positioned at lookout points on the edge of the plateau signaled their arrival.
Soon, they reached the top, stepping onto the relatively flat expanse that served as their main settlement – a sprawling collection of makeshift shelters, reinforced ruins, and communal areas.
All of it being their home here on the forgotten shore. The castle close by still marked the difference between the current factions in this unknown corner of the dream realm.
They were greeted by those who had remained behind – the non-combatants, the crafters, all those whose aspects would make them a liability in combat. There were quiet inquiries about the hunt, words of welcome, and the general bustle of a community receiving its returning providers.
Ray, however, extricated himself from the throng shortly after their arrival. The accumulated exhaustion, both physical from the day's exertions and the profound mental fatigue from his sleepless nights, was a heavy weight. Some cast curious glances his way, noting his pallor and subdued demeanor, but no one commented directly. He offered brief goodbyes to Henry, Effie, and a few others from his close-knit team, then turned and made his way towards his own small hut on the periphery of the settlement.
Upon reaching the familiar, cramped space, he immediately entered and dismissed most of his combat equipment back into his Soul Sea. The relief of shedding the weight was palpable. He then summoned his other armor Memory, [Second Skin].
While the dark, form-fitting material began to weave itself into existence around him, coalescing from faint wisps of shadow into a protective, flexible layer, Ray looked down at his own body.
The familiar, small spots of pure oblivion, like tiny patches of starless night, were still scattered across his skin. He'd grown used to their presence. By now, especially after his breakthrough with the Veil, he found he could exert a minuscule amount of control over them. It wasn't much – he could subtly urge them to shift their positions a few centimeters, make them cluster or disperse slightly – but it was a start, a tangible sign of his growing understanding.
When [Second Skin] had fully formed, clinging to him like a comfortable, resilient layer, Ray didn't hesitate. He crossed to his makeshift bed – a pile of cured animal pelts – and lay down, the weariness pressing him deep into their rough comfort.
Before closing his eyes, a familiar rune appeared in his mind's eye, displaying a stark counter:
[Demon fragments: 368/2000]
He sighed internally. The speed at which he obtained these vital fragments had slowed considerably since his transformation into an Awakened and the subsequent unlocking of his Aspect Legacy. Each fragment felt harder won now, the requirements for their acquisition seemingly more stringent.
With that final thought, Ray closed his eyes, surrendering to the inevitable pull, bracing himself for another encounter in the disquieting landscape of his Soul Sea.