Morning in the sanctuary was never peaceful.
Dawn revealed tired faces, smoldering fires, and the constant murmur of fear. On the courthouse steps, the self-appointed council shouted about rations and rules. To Ethan's group, it was just noise.
They gathered near the edge of the dome — the faint seam where the barrier shimmered like glass breathing. Marcus hefted his crowbar, restless. Kira crouched low, adjusting the strap on her knife sheath. Ravi tucked his scribbled cardboard notes into his jacket, lips moving as he whispered half-formed equations. Caleb shifted nervously, gripping his steel pipe tight enough to whiten his knuckles. Maya stood slightly apart, head tilted, listening for something only she could hear. Darren and Tina lingered close to Marcus, unwilling to stray far from his shadow.
They were almost at the seam when voices cut across the courtyard.
"Where do you think you're going?"
A knot of council members stood blocking the path — tired faces puffed up by borrowed authority. One man jabbed a finger toward Ethan. "You slip out at dawn, come back at dusk, and for what? You bring nothing back. No food, no water, nothing for anyone but yourselves."
A woman folded her arms, glaring at Marcus's weapon. "That crowbar belongs to everyone. You can't just claim it."
Marcus's jaw flexed. He lifted the bar a fraction. "Come and take it."
The words dropped like a stone.
Kira straightened slowly, her hand brushing the hilt of her knife. Caleb edged closer to Ethan.
Darren raised both hands. "Easy. We don't want trouble."
Tina caught his sleeve, whispering, "Don't. This isn't their fight."
The man sneered. "You think you're better than the rest of us? Sneaking off, hoarding weapons? When the time comes, you'll need us. And we won't forget this."
Ethan stepped forward, voice calm but carrying. "You want safety? Stay behind your walls. You want survival? Take the risk. We don't owe you anything."
The council faltered under the steady weight of his gaze.
Ethan turned. "Let's go."
One by one, they slipped through the seam. The dome hummed faintly as it let them pass, sealing their argument behind them.
---
The city outside felt like another world.
Broken glass glittered across cracked pavement. Storefronts yawned open like wounds. The air reeked of smoke and rust, heavy with silence.
Marcus's boots crunched. "Feels like walking through a graveyard."
"It is," Kira murmured.
They moved cautiously — Ethan scouting ahead, Marcus close behind. Ravi kept count under his breath, tracking their route by sun and shadow. Caleb gripped his pipe like a lifeline. Maya brought up the rear, head tilted as if listening through stone.
They reached an old shopping district. Ahead, four roamers staggered between overturned cars, their limbs jerking at impossible angles. Bone plating jutted from their shoulders like broken armor.
Marcus grinned. "Finally."
Before he could move, Maya froze. She pressed her palm to the ground.
"Wait," she whispered.
Everyone stilled.
"They're shifting," she murmured. "Right side. Two… no, three steps closer."
Ravi's eyes lit. "Sonic Veil. It's not sound manipulation — it's vibration sense. You can feel them."
Maya swallowed. "When I chose, I saw ripples. Like water. Everything touching everything. I thought it was a vision."
Ethan nodded. "Then trust it. Use it."
They advanced.
Marcus struck first — the hammering sound of metal on bone. His crowbar smashed through a roamer's skull with a wet crack. Kira blurred into motion, her knife plunging deep into another's spine.
"Left!" Ravi barked. Caleb turned too slow; claws tore his arm. He cried out.
Ethan yanked him back, pressed a glowing hand to the wound. Skin knitted; blood dried. Pain burned through Ethan's veins as his essence dipped — ten points gone in an instant.
Caleb stared at his healed arm. "Thanks—"
"No time," Ethan snapped, shoving him upright.
A roamer lunged for Marcus. Maya screamed, instinct breaking free. The air rippled — a shockwave bursting from her throat. Two roamers staggered, their claws scraping empty air.
Marcus laughed, savage. "Do that again!" He brought his crowbar down, crushing a skull. Kira slit another's throat before it could rise.
The last thrashed on the ground. Ethan felt the pull of Gene Warden like a hook under his ribs. He knelt, forcing the energy out through shaking hands.
The roamer's face flickered — for one breath, its eyes cleared, human and terrified. Then the light collapsed. The body stilled.
Dead.
Ethan reeled, breath ragged. Twenty essence gone. His vision swam.
Marcus grabbed his shoulder. "That stunt's gonna get you killed."
Kira's tone was cold. "If it fails half the time, it's not power. It's a liability."
Ravi crouched, studying the corpse. "Or the system decides when it works. Maybe it only accepts partial mutations. Maybe it's testing him."
Maya's voice was soft. "Even if it fails, he tried. That matters."
Ethan wasn't sure it did.
---
The bodies faded into drifting light. Three vanished entirely. The fourth left something behind.
A hammer.
It wasn't scrap metal — it was forged. The head was dark iron etched with faint runes that pulsed once and dimmed again. The handle hummed faintly to the touch.
Marcus crouched, hand hovering. "You seeing this?"
"Careful," Kira muttered. "Things that glow usually bite."
He grinned and picked it up. The air shimmered; a blue overlay flickered before their eyes — the system whispering in their minds.
[Item Identified: "Breaker of Stone" — Class: Titan Weapon]
Type: War Hammer
Material: Reinforced Iron Alloy (Pre-System)
Status: Adapted / Bound (Marcus Hale)
Damage Output: +35% (Blunt/Crush)
Resonance Bonus: +10% to Titan-Blood Strength Multipliers
Passive Effect — Momentum Echo:
Consecutive strikes amplify kinetic force by +15% per hit (up to ×3).
Durability: 92%
Essence Requirement: 5 EP per full-force strike (drawn automatically)
Note: Crafted tools remember the hands that swung them.
Strike true, Titan.
The light blinked out. Marcus let out a low whistle, testing its weight. "Now that feels right."
Ravi knelt, fascinated. "Not every kill drops items. It depends on residual essence — or the strike itself."
"Doesn't matter," Marcus said, swinging. The hammer hummed, cutting the air with a low thrum that cracked the pavement. "It's mine."
Kira smirked. "Finally, something you can't break."
Ethan managed a tired smile. The hammer's pulse matched Marcus's heartbeat, veins glowing faintly in his arms. For the first time since the fall, the weapon — and the man — looked truly alive.
---
They turned back toward the sanctuary. The streets stretched empty, glass crunching underfoot. The sun bled pale through the clouds.
Then the sound came.
A low, rolling howl — deep enough to rattle the windows, heavy enough to vibrate in their bones. Not human. Not mutant. Something older.
They froze.
Maya crouched, palm to the ground. Her face went white. "It's close," she whispered. "Big."
Ravi's pencil scratched furiously across his cardboard. "Not a roamer. Too heavy. Too even. The cadence is wrong."
Ethan's chest tightened. The system's words echoed in his mind: In seventy-two hours, the wild will wake.
The howl came again — closer. Windows quivered. Dust drifted from the ruins.
Far ahead, the dome shimmered, its light pulsing as if something enormous had brushed against it.
Maya's eyes widened. "I can feel it," she whispered. "Like a storm."
She swallowed, voice barely more than breath. "And it's coming this way."