The fog thickened overnight, pressing close against every tent flap and crevice like something breathing. It muffled even the softest footsteps, turning the camp into a world of whispers and pale shadows.
Bright hadn't slept. None of them had. The air felt…wrong—too heavy, too damp. It carried a hum, faint at first, like the thrum of a distant drum. He thought it was his imagination until Duncan stirred beside him.
"You hear that?" Duncan muttered, hand reaching instinctively for his spear.
Bright nodded, his voice tight. "It's been going for hours. Thought it was my heartbeat."
Adam, seated near the dim glow of a cracked lantern, was scribbling something on a bit of cloth. "It repeats," he said, eyes sunken from lack of sleep. "Every thirty-two seconds. I've been timing it. The frequency's constant… almost mechanical."
"Could be the wind," Link offered half-heartedly.
But they all knew it wasn't.
By morning, the entire camp had heard it. Roegan stood atop the crumbled stairway of what used to be a guard tower, eyes scanning the mist. His voice cut through the murmurs.
"Everyone stays sharp! Patrol rotations continue. No one wanders off alone."
His words carried authority, but even he looked uneasy. The sound had changed overnight. It wasn't a hum anymore—it was rhythmic, deep, and pulsing, like the heartbeat of something vast and buried beneath their feet.
Bessia's group stood nearby. Her expression was tight, lips pressed white. Silas, on the other hand, wore a thin smile. "You feel it too, Captain? The pulse?"
Roegan turned sharply. "You'd better have something useful to say, Drey."
"Only that the Shroud seems… alive. Maybe this is its way of calling the crawlers home."
His smirk didn't last long. The pulse came again—louder this time. Everyone froze as the fog seemed to shudder with it.
Then came the first scream.
A scouting pair from the western flank stumbled into camp, one of them clutching a bloody arm. The other dragged something behind him—a crawler's corpse. But it wasn't like the others.
Its body was slick with an oily black sheen, its eyes glowing faintly crimson even in death. Its limbs were longer, distorted, the fingers tipped with bony blades.
"It was following the sound!" the surviving soldier gasped. "Didn't even notice us till we struck. There's more out there—hundreds, maybe."
Roegan crouched beside the body, jaw tight. "This one's… changing. Evolving."
Adam stepped closer, ignoring Duncan's warning hand. "Look at the tissue patterns," he murmured. "The poison in their blood—it's mutating. Maybe they're responding to that signal."
"Responding?" Bright asked. "You mean it's controlling them?"
Adam looked up slowly. "Maybe not controlling… calling."
The heartbeat continued.
Ba-thump. Ba-thump.
Every pulse sent a vibration through the ground, rattling bones and weapons. The soldiers began whispering about the Maw's heart, claiming the sound came from the Shroud itself—its core, the birthplace of every monster within.
Roegan ordered four scouting parties to locate the source. Silas volunteered immediately, his tone deceptively calm. "We can handle ourselves. The fog won't touch us if we move fast."
Bessia frowned but followed his lead, clutching her rifle close.
Bright's group was assigned to the southern route. Roegan himself took the center.
"Keep your eyes open," the captain said, his voice low but firm. "Whatever's making that sound—it's not natural. If it's the Shroud's core, it might be our only way out."
They moved. The fog grew thicker with every step, twisting into ribbons that curled around their legs. Bright's Danger Sense pulsed faintly—a tremor at the edge of his perception. Something was watching them, several somethings.
Duncan tightened his grip on his spear. "I can't see two feet ahead. This is madness."
"Quiet," Link hissed. "Listen."
The pulse had changed direction—it was now beneath them, deeper and slower.
Bright crouched and pressed a hand to the ground. The vibrations were clearer now, stronger. The earth trembled with each thump, like it was breathing in rhythm with the sound.
"Adam," Bright said, "you said thirty-two seconds before. How long between beats now?"
Adam counted silently, eyes wide. "Twenty-five."
They reached a broken stretch of wall, the remnants of what might have been a courtyard before the world died. The sound was strongest here. Even Duncan felt it through his boots.
"Something's under us," he said. "Something big."
Before Bright could answer, his Danger Sense screamed. He dove sideways—just as the ground split open.
A shape surged upward from the earth—taller than a man, slick with black ichor, its jaw splitting open into four sections. Crawlers poured out from behind it, dozens of them, drawn by the pulsing beat.
"Fall back!" Duncan shouted, spear flashing.
Link fired his rifle blindly into the mist, muzzle flares painting fleeting images of nightmares.
Bright scrambled up, one arm throbbing from the shock. He saw Adam clutching the bag of cores and dragging it behind cover.
The crawlers came fast, their movements jerky and unnatural. Each pulse of the heartbeat made them move in unison—as though dancing to its rhythm.
The first one leapt. Duncan's spear impaled it mid-air, its shriek slicing through the fog. Another lunged from behind, only to have its skull crushed under a stone swung by Link.
Bright's instincts burned hot—his Danger Sense letting him feel every twitch, every motion around him. He sidestepped an attack that came from the blind spot of his vision, countering with a precise cut to its throat.
The ichor splashed, sizzling against his blade.
They fought in rhythm with the pulse, their movements timed to that slow, dreadful beat.
Ba-thump. Strike.
Ba-thump. Parry.
Ba-thump. Dodge.
And then silence.
When the last crawler fell, the fog around them shimmered faintly—as though alive.
Duncan collapsed to one knee, gasping for breath. "That… that was too many."
Adam stared at the corpses, voice trembling. "They were drawn to the sound like moths. If we keep heading that way, we'll walk into their nest."
Bright looked up, eyes narrowing as he wiped the blood from his face. "Then that's where we need to go."
Link frowned. "You're insane."
"Maybe," Bright said quietly. "But if that's the heart of this place… maybe killing it's the only way out. We will probably meet the other teams in there too, the nest isn't going to wait for us to grow by fighting those scraps"
The others said nothing. The fog around them pulsed once more—closer this time.
And somewhere far off, deep in the Shroud, something answered back.