Dawn's first light edged the ancient stones in silver as Charlie woke, Fenrir's bulk curled at his side, the warmth of the wolf a comfort and a weight. The world was quiet—so quiet it was almost sacred—save for the distant rumble of a lorry on the A303 and the gentle, unhurried pulse of the node lattice thrumming in Charlie's bones.
The HUD shimmered as soon as his eyes opened. For a moment, he lay still, letting it scroll:
Bond: 16%
Path: Guardian
Skills: Howl of Warning (ready), Scent Memory (active)
Quest: Unlock the Underworld Vault (Cipher not yet solved)
He blinked the interface away, rolling onto his back, and stared at the faded blue sky. Not for the first time, he felt both gifted and very much alone.
Angus woke early, stoking the campfire for a last round of tea and frying bread. "We've work ahead, lad," he said, sliding a battered glovebox key across the stone. "The car's not just for comfort. There's something you need to see."
Leyla packed up their gear; Ben stretched and yawned, then stowed his keyboard with gentle reverence. Sarah scribbled one last line in her notebook—Fenrir dreams, Charlie listens, stones remember.
They left the stones behind, hiking through dew-bright fields to where Angus's ancient estate car sat beneath a stand of hawthorn. As they piled in, Fenrir leaped into the back without hesitation, tail thumping against the door.
Charlie slipped into the passenger seat. Angus nodded at the glovebox. "Open it, and mind the old book."
Inside, beside a crumbling road atlas and a spare torch, was the WWII cipher notebook. Charlie pulled it out. It felt heavier today—a relic charged by the events at Stonehenge, by the wolf-bond and the night's dangers.
As the car rattled south through Salisbury's lanes, Charlie turned the fragile pages, HUD shimmering with each movement. There—pressed into the leather fold—he found a thin sheet of oilcloth, covered in cryptic runes and a code grid.
He glanced at Angus, who nodded approval. "Your great-grandfather wrote that during the war. Codebreakers like him and Alan Turing built the first node map, back when the lattice sang only in whispers. The war they fought was never just men and tanks. They hunted the shadows beneath the world."
Charlie ran his finger over the grid. The HUD highlighted symbols, linking them to snippets of the diary he'd read before:
Heart. Moon. Fang.
Underworld Vault: entry locked—coordinate required.
Sarah, watching from the back, caught a glimpse of his frown. "What does it mean?"
Charlie hesitated. He could not explain the HUD, the way the cipher's answers floated in ghostly overlay. Instead, he read aloud: "It's a set of coordinates. To Skellig Ionrach. There's a second node—maybe a vault—below the island. We're supposed to find it, to unlock the next path."
Ben leaned forward, grinning. "A literal treasure map?"
Angus grunted. "Aye, but the treasure is power—and peril. If Thorned agents find the Skellig node first, they'll turn it into another chain."
Charlie's medallion pulsed at his heart. The interface flickered: Quest updated—travel to Skellig Vault, unlock Underworld Node, complete bond with Fenrir.
They drove through the day, stopping only for food and to let Fenrir stretch. Every time the wolf roamed a hedgerow or sniffed a sheep gate, the HUD pinged new scents, mapped out hidden trails, logged "anomaly: cryptid trace (jackalope, 4%)" or "selkie residual, 2%" on the periphery of Charlie's awareness.
Ben marveled at the wolf's intuition. "He always knows where to turn. Wish I could read maps like that."
Charlie grinned. "Maybe you're picking up the song, too."
By evening, they reached the ferry terminal at the Irish coast, the sun dipping behind clouds, rain setting in. Angus led them to a waiting skiff—no one questioned their cargo; the world was full of stranger stories since the node harmonics began to rise.
The crossing was rough. Charlie huddled beside Fenrir as the waves tossed the boat, watching the HUD shift with each crest and dip: "Approaching Skellig—node pulse 4x baseline. Beast Bond eligible for advancement."
Leyla steadied Sarah as she tried to draw the lighthouse beacon. Ben played a quiet scale on the keyboard, music drifting into the mist.
They landed at the foot of Skellig, gray rock rising from foaming surf, topped by the monastery's rebuilt walls and the new vault entrance—a steel hatch gleaming in the drizzle. Brother Kelan waited, staff in hand, expression a blend of worry and welcome.
"Charlie. You brought the cipher?"
Charlie nodded, holding up the notebook.
"And the wolf?"
Fenrir padded up the slick stone steps, pausing to look back, as if to say: We're not alone.
Kelan's gaze flicked to Angus. "The vault's sealed. No one's been able to open it since the last war. If the cipher's right…"
Charlie felt the HUD shift: Bond: 18%. Quest: Solve the Underworld Cipher. Next: Place Fenrir's paw on the gate at moonrise.
He didn't tell anyone. Instead, he nodded. "We'll try tonight."
The team assembled as the moon climbed. At the steel door, ancient runes were etched—heart, moon, fang. Charlie placed Fenrir's paw on the glyph, recited the cipher phrase, and pressed the medallion against the center.
A hum filled the air—felt by all, but only Charlie saw the full display: lines of light connecting rune to rune, numbers clicking into place, an inner circle spinning as if aligning keys in a lock.
With a slow grind, the door swung open, revealing a spiral stair dropping into dark. Lanterns flared—node-light, pure and blue.
Fenrir led the way, head high, every step measured. Charlie's HUD flickered: Guardian Path: Dungeon Unlocked. Skills: Scent Memory, Howl of Warning, Guardian Aura (active). Next: Heart of the Vault.
Sarah squeezed his hand. "Ready?"
Charlie swallowed, feeling the responsibility and the hope. "Ready as I'll ever be."
They stepped into the underworld together—wolf, bond, song, and legacy descending toward whatever waited below.