The stars were bleeding.
As the faint tinges of its glow seeped through the ember clouds above, the winds almost seemed as if they started to change. They were no longer calm, no longer filled with a hollow chill engraved with its movement.
It turned darker. Volatile.
Nyx didn't even have the willpower to feel the cold anymore. From top to bottom, he was lost. Slowly — all for a reason he didn't quite understand himself — he lifted the cloth mask sitting by his neck to once more enshroud his mouth, almost as if out of preparation for a foe that had not yet appeared.
Ryland visibly began holding his breath, rushing over towards Thane, still positioned overlooking the wall.
The man in question, just from appearance alone, always seemed relatively distant in how he presented himself — his dark hair ruffled and unkept, green eyes never seeming to be in the moment, looking out towards some distant prospect that the others couldn't see.
More notable was the sigil placed over his left eye — two black bars, one longer than the other, as a thin streak cut through the width of his pupil.
What scared Nyx the most, however, was the fact that neither of them looked fully composed; at least not to the same extent they used to. A cold sweat ripped down their faces, expressions grim and foreboding. Not quite the same mannerisms as cadets and the untrained, though Nyx could tell the rough equivalency...
...They were scared.
Ryland didn't waste any time, unsheathing the dual blades he carried before giving a swift question to his counterpart: "Do you sense anything?"
Thane didn't respond, his expression completely unreadable. Ryland, picking up on the odd behavior, quickly gestured towards the cadets, tossing a rogue glance at the vibrant fire. "Put that out. Immediately."
Nyx forced himself to move, shooting the bottle out from his pouch and popping the lid. Briskly, he tilted the vial as the glistening water ripped against the violent flames, a crackling sizzle echoing before dying to a whisper.
Nyx could feel his heart pound. He gripped his leaden spear, heart pounding in his chest as he slid his gaze across every slight shadow in his vision.
The tension was palpable. His ragged breath seemingly masked every other noise that surrounded him. It was as if time had stopped completely for just a brief moment.
He couldn't help but be flooded with thoughts on what they could encounter. What they'd face. What creature could rip him limb from limb and cover the ground with his blood, everyone he's ever known forgetting he ever existed.
And yet, after what felt like an eternity, nothing ever came.
Thane lowered himself, gently placing his hand against the ground. Silence.
Before to long, he finally spoke; "There's nothing. Yet."
Ryland seemed to loosen himself, almost like a wave of relief started to fall over him. Despite that, he still gripped his blades with an unstated firmness, Nyx swearing he could almost hear the metal creaking up its shaft from the pressure. "Good... that's good."
The cadets, while still on edge, similarly started to calm themselves, each looking to the two Phantoms for guidance. Silas spoke first, slightly adjusting the quiver wrapped around his back. "What do we do now?"
Ryland pondered for a second, seemingly considering what the best course of action actually was. He looked towards Thane, then towards the cadets, all before finishing on the crying stars above them. "We go to the other camps."
With a quick turn, he started marching into the tattered city, everyone else mimicking in quick pursuit. He wasn't simply walking, more of a mixture between a run and a jog.
"Shouldn't we find shelter?" Silas exclaimed, struggling to keep up with his pace, "Find a place to hide?"
"You don't hide from a starfall," He explained, expertly weaving through the rubble and debris even despite the oppressive night. "Our best chance of survival is regrouping with the others. We can't survive on our own... not all of us, anyways."
"But the other two groups are on the opposite ends of the city..." Nyx murmured, only slightly behind the swift Phantom.
"Even still, it's our only option. The camp to the north is the closer of the two. It's most likely that's where we're converging."
Naturally, they had their doubts, but they chose not to ask anymore.
They knew he wasn't lying. After all, a starfall enhances the innate instincts of a Terror. They can see better. They can hear better. They can smell better. In truth, it was near impossible to stay hidden during one — at least not for long. Sooner or later, they would find you. Your only hope was to pray and try to survive with everything you had left.
Unfortunately for Nyx, he didn't believe in the gods. He had no higher power to pray to, and no deity to call his own.
His survival was completely in his own hands.
After a few minutes of what felt like an endless rush, Nyx was completely disoriented. The city, destroyed and under the cover of night, felt more akin to an endless maze than a place that once held a population. All he did was follow Ryland and Thane, the two seemingly having already adapted to its layout during the initial occupation.
Yet, after a while, Thane had suddenly stopped in his tracks.
Ryland, for only a brief moment, continued to careen past before similarly coming to a halt, instinctively tightening his grip as he spoke. "Thane, what's wrong?"
Just like before, he gave no answer. Ryland sterned himself. "Stay on guard!" He shouted, sending a deep chill down each of their spines. Nyx could feel his hands quake against his will, almost upset at himself for his lack of courage. That was, until he noticed that it wasn't just his hands...
It was his entire body.
It wasn't severe, more of just a low vibration — not even noticeable to the naked eye. Regardless, he could feel it. He swore he could feel it.
As if to confirm his suspicions, Thane was quick to let out a slight whisper, "The ground is shaking."
Slowly, the Phantom lowered himself, once again gently resting his hand against the cobbled pavement below. Nothing but silence.
He jumped up. His eyes were wide. Nyx could feel his heart drop as Thane turned to face them, a deep, visceral command escaping from his lungs; "RUN."
Not even a moment passed before the vibration turned to an earthquake, ground splitting asunder as the earth below his feet violently churned in two.
Before he could even react, he was falling. With a great rumbling, the ground below them had caved.
Desperately did Nyx try to hold on to something, though nothing was within reach. Instead of focusing on the terrain above, he shifted his eyes downward and looked for anything that could support him — even if it meant sustaining injuries from the fall.
Without hesitation, his eyes locked onto a small jutting stone, still intact despite the fracture. Reaching out his arm, he just barely scraped his hand against the surface, body slamming into the side of the ground he once walked. Dust and rubble bred from the carnage, vision so impaired he could barely keep his own eyes open.
It was in that self-inflicted darkness could he hear the terror. The death. He could hear screams, he could hear cries. Beneath him, the sound of clacking jaws reverberated through his chest and out his lungs. An immense splatter of warm, thick liquid burgeoned against his back, seeping into his clothes as he tried desperately to pull himself back up.
He could feel the stern grip of a hand enclose itself around his forearm, effortlessly flying him back to safety as his body spiraled out onto the floor. Finally, he opened his eyes.
Carefully, he came to a slow stand, Thane and a few other lucky cadets right by his side. A sense of panic immediately began to course through his system. A sense of dread. A feeling of complete, unbridled horror.
Silas wasn't one of them.
He could feel his breathing start to tighten. He could feel his chest start to close. For all he knew, Silas was dead, and his blood now coated the back of his clothes.
The only thing which returned him to reality was the firm grip of Thane's hand against his shoulder. "Snap out of it!" He roared, quick to shove Nyx by the edge of the new-found cliff.
He hadn't been able to fully comprehend it, too lost in fear and terror. It wasn't just a whole... it was a canyon.
For what felt to be miles, the ground had collapsed, the entire western front of the city now hundreds of meters below them. Dust and smog clouded the chasm, bits of rock still managing to shatter and collapse into the hole.
They had only just managed to escape its fracture — not even by a few feet.
"Ryland went down there," Thane murmured into his ear, whisps of smog billowing up in strands. "Some survived, just descended with the terrain. Your friend could've survived, too."
A slight gleam began to form in his heart. With just a few words, his hope as immediately restored. "Really?"
Thane nodded. "Although, some got eaten. By whatever was in that fucking hole."
Nyx instinctually looked down, there indeed being a steep gap in the earth where he had almost fallen. He was almost eaten alive.
"What do we do now?" Another cadet yelped, shakily gripping the hilt of his sword.
Thane turned, away from the ravine, and back towards the streets. Carefully, he lifted a clean blade in his hands as distant, wretched howls billowed from the silent streets.
"We fight." He said softly, eyes piercing daggers towards the dust lingering over the street as a silhouette began to form in its shadow...
..."We survive."