Sleep didn't come easily.
When it finally did, it wasn't rest — just fragments. Red light. Whispers crawling beneath my skin. A mechanical heartbeat echoing somewhere deep inside the earth.
When I opened my eyes again, the camp was already alive.
The air hummed faintly with activity — clanking metal, murmured orders, the shrill cries of the mounts. I stepped out of the bunker, rubbing my temples. The fog was thinner today, a pale light seeping through the cracks in the sky.
People were moving between tents and half-collapsed structures — survivors, soldiers, scavengers, whatever they called themselves now. Some wore partial exo-suits fused with flesh. Others carried weapons that looked too alive to be simple tools.
For a moment, I just stood there, watching.
Iver spotted me first. She was near the armory, her violet hair glinting faintly as she adjusted the battery of her rifle. When she saw me, she tilted her head toward a group gathered nearby.
"Elias," she called, "time to meet your squad."
I walked over.
There were four of them waiting — each distinct, each carrying something in their eyes that told me they had seen too much and lost more.
The first was a tall man with dark copper skin and an easy grin that didn't reach his eyes. His left arm was covered in mechanical plating, pulsing faintly with orange light. "Name's Reid," he said, offering a nod. "Demolition expert. Don't touch my gear unless you want to lose a few fingers."
Next was a woman leaning against a rusted crate — Sera. Her black hair was tied into a single braid, her gaze sharp and reflective. I realized her irises weren't normal; they shimmered like glass, constantly shifting color. "I deal with sensory distortions," she said simply. "You'll understand when you start doubting what's real."
Then came Barel — a mountain of muscle with pale scars tracing every inch of his arms. His weapon wasn't just a blade; it breathed. Faint pulses ran along its edge like veins. "I cut," he said, voice like gravel. "Nothing more complicated than that."
The last was quiet. A girl with short silver-blonde hair and golden eyes sat beside one of the mounts — a beast with metal horns and scaled legs. It watched me curiously, steam rising from its nostrils. "That's Lune," Iver said. "Handler. Don't bother her too much."
Lune didn't speak — she just nodded once.
Iver turned toward the group. "This team's been operating in the ruins for months. You'll observe them for now. Learn how we survive here."
Reid grinned. "Babysitting duty. Great."
Iver's gaze flicked to him — a faint shimmer passed through the air, invisible but felt. The grin vanished.
Her bloodlust didn't need volume. It was cold, controlled — a warning shaped like pressure on your lungs.
"Any questions?" she asked.
"Yeah," I muttered. "What exactly are we doing here?"
"Scouting," she said. "The city's shifting. Something's waking under the rubble. We find it before it finds us."
That didn't sound comforting.
The rest of the day passed in tense rhythm — gathering supplies, testing weapons, calibrating suits. The survivors worked with the precision of people who knew that mistakes were fatal.
When night fell, we moved out.
The ruins beyond the camp were worse — drowned in fog, buildings leaning like dying giants. The silence wasn't empty; it listened.
At some point, Iver stopped and motioned for quiet.
The air grew still.
Then… a sound. Slow, deliberate. Metal dragging against stone.
Shapes moved in the dark — humanoid but wrong. Parasites.
Reid raised his weapon, flame already licking his gauntlet. "Contact."
"Wait," Iver said softly.
That was when I felt it — a pressure that crawled up my spine. Not from the monsters, but from her.
Her bloodlust poured out, silent and vast. The fog recoiled. Even the Parasites hesitated, their grotesque bodies twitching as if the very idea of approaching her was unbearable.
I could feel it too — the raw killing intent, focused so sharply it was almost physical. My breath caught, my pulse syncing to hers.
Then she moved.
One step, and her aura snapped.
The Parasites screamed.
The team exploded into motion — Reid's gauntlet ignited the air, Sera's illusions fractured reality, and Barel's blade howled like something alive. Lune's mount lunged with mechanical grace, tearing through steel and flesh alike.
I stayed behind, watching in a mix of awe and dread.
Iver was… different. Every motion was precise, her violet hair streaking through the smoke like firelight. When she struck, her blade cut with the weight of her will — her bloodlust wrapping around each blow like a storm.
When the last creature fell, silence returned.
The team reassembled, breathing hard but alive.
Reid kicked a carcass aside. "They're getting bolder."
"Or desperate," Sera replied, wiping her blade.
Iver's eyes scanned the shadows. "Either way, they're hunting something."
Her gaze shifted to me. "You felt it, didn't you? The fear."
I nodded. "It wasn't just theirs. It was mine too."
She studied me quietly, then said, "Good. Learn to control it. Someday, that fear will either kill you… or obey you."
Her words lingered long after the silence returned.
That night, when I lay awake under the fractured sky, I could still feel her aura pressing faintly on my chest — cold, powerful, alive.
And for the first time, I wondered what kind of monster a human could become… when their will alone could make the world tremble.