The sun rose over Manhattan, but it brought no warmth. Smoke still clung to the skeletal remains of skyscrapers, drifting lazily across streets where fires smoldered beneath piles of ash and twisted metal. The air was thick with a metallic tang, a mixture of blood, ozone, and burned plastic that clung to the lungs like a curse. Humanity had survived, barely, but the city looked as if a god—or a monster—had scoffed at its existence.
Briar Sinkaf stood atop a half-collapsed rooftop, silver veins pulsing faintly beneath his skin. He flexed his fingers, feeling the energy coil like living lightning within him. The moon hung above, unnaturally large, silver-blue light spilling across the city like liquid mercury. It was no longer distant, no longer benign. It pulsed, aware, alive, and it hummed directly into Briar's chest with every heartbeat.
The streets below were littered with scavengers and survivors, moving cautiously among the rubble. Some carried rifles, others wielded makeshift weapons: metal pipes, chainsaws, Molotov cocktails. Fires flared in alleys and abandoned subway entrances, attempting to burn away the Death Crawlers that still slithered beneath the city. Every so often, a black, glistening limb would erupt from the asphalt, only to retreat when Briar extended a hand, silver light exploding outward in a wave of energy. The pulse of the moon resonated with him, strengthening him, teaching him, but also warning him: Taya was still out there.
"Briar, we've got movement on 23rd Street!" Danny's voice crackled over the comm-link. He crouched beside Briar, surveying the street below. "Crawlers. Small pack… but fast. And different—look at the wings."
Briar's eyes narrowed. He had sensed their evolution during the past weeks. Every time humans struck down one of Taya's creations, another came back stronger, smarter. Now, some had wings—thin, leathery membranes, sharp talons, jagged teeth glinting in the early light. They were testing him, learning, adapting, and he knew the moon itself was orchestrating it.
"Keep the civilians behind the barricades," Briar instructed, his voice calm but firm. "We don't engage until I give the signal. Let me test something."
Danny frowned, but obeyed. Across the street, a pack of Death Crawlers emerged from a cracked manhole. Their black bodies gleamed, and multiple limbs clicked together in a horrifying rhythm. They paused, almost aware of Briar above them. Their leader—a hulking hybrid with wings folded tightly against its back—tilted its head as if listening.
Briar exhaled slowly. He lifted his hands, feeling the familiar surge. The silver energy flowed from his veins into his fingers, extending outward like liquid lightning. It wrapped around the creatures in the street, halting them mid-step. Limbs convulsed violently as the energy rippled through them, and for a moment, the hybrid leader froze, clicking its mandibles in confusion.
"Now!" Briar shouted. Silver arcs shot from his fingertips, striking the creatures in sequence. The smaller crawlers shrieked, scattering in panic, while the winged hybrid twisted violently, limbs snapping before retreating underground.
Danny and the other survivors below cheered, but Briar didn't smile. The silver pulse thrummed within him, stronger than ever. He realized something terrifying: every time he used his energy, Taya could feel it, sense it, and perhaps learn from it. Every victory aboveground was being studied below, every strike analyzed by the queen of the moonlit underground.
"Briar… you okay?" Danny asked, voice wary.
"I'm fine," Briar replied, though his chest burned with the intensity of the pulse. "But she's watching. Every move we make… she knows."
He turned his gaze upward, the moon hovering over the city like a predator. Its surface glimmered with unnatural energy, craters pulsating like veins, feeding life into the Death Crawlers below. And somewhere beneath the earth, Taya's laughter echoed—not loud, not audible to human ears—but resonant in Briar's mind, a chilling reminder of what was at stake.
The comm-link buzzed again. "Tokyo's under attack. The Crawlers there have evolved too. Some can fly. Civilians are trapped."
Briar clenched his fists. The pulse inside him surged in response. He could feel their fear across the globe, their need for a protector, and the silver light responded. He had learned that distance no longer mattered—the moon had linked their energy, and he was connected to humans everywhere.
"Gather the teams," Briar said. "We move tonight. No mistakes. We can't let them learn faster than we do."
—CITY OF Survivors:
Briar descended from the rooftop, landing with a controlled thump amidst the survivors. People stared at him as he passed, eyes wide, some in fear, some in awe. His silver veins pulsed faintly, illuminating the dirt and ash on his skin like ghostly tattoos. Children peeked from behind barricades; their parents nodded at him, hope flickering in the gloom.
"Briar, we've fortified the high-rise for the night," one of the scavenger teams reported. "Food's limited. We can hold, but if more Crawlers attack…" His voice trailed off.
Briar placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll be ready. Trust me. They can't match our strategy if we use every advantage."
He moved through the streets with Danny, observing the barricades, the traps, and the survivors. Every human was a thread in a fragile tapestry of resistance. Every home fortified, every vehicle overturned to slow Crawlers, every improvised weapon mattered. Humanity had survived the first wave—but now, evolution and strategy defined the war.
The first wave of dusk approached. Shadows lengthened. Briar felt the pulse of the moon grow stronger, a resonance that vibrated through his bones. His silver energy glimmered brighter with each heartbeat. He knew that tonight would not be easy.
—THE PULSE OF THE MOON:
As darkness fell, the streets became alive with crawling shadows. The Death Crawlers had learned to coordinate, splitting into smaller packs, attacking multiple fronts simultaneously. Some emerged silently from subway tunnels, others dropped from rooftops, wings unfurling to glide silently among the survivors.
Briar raised a hand. Silver arcs of energy surged outward, halting the first attack. The creatures convulsed, their multiple eyes blinking independently. He felt the moon's pulse respond to his control. He could bend it, stretch it, manipulate it—but only temporarily. The moon was testing him, probing his limits.
From the highest rooftop, he guided humans, directing them like a conductor orchestrating chaos. Molotov cocktails, chainsaws, and improvised firearms found their marks, buying precious time. But Briar knew the moon was patient. It would not lose, not tonight, not ever.
And somewhere below the city, Taya observed. Hundreds of Death Crawlers slithered across tunnels, some creeping above ground, others waiting for her command. She had grown, no longer a mere child in the park but a strategist, a queen of unseen war. Her eyes flickered with twin moons of silver as she whispered commands. The creatures obeyed, feeding on her will, not her words.
"They grow stronger," she murmured, her voice layered, multiple tones at once. "But so does he. Soon, the world will be ready for the final play."
—THE FIRST TRUE TEST:
Briar moved through the streets alongside Danny and the remaining survivors. They had become more than refugees—they were soldiers in a war they didn't fully understand. Every attack, every trap, every silver arc from Briar's fingertips counted.
A pack of winged Crawlers descended, shrieking as they dove toward humans. Briar extended his energy, weaving a silver net through the air. The creatures collided with it, screeching, falling into the burning rubble below. But more emerged. He felt the pulse of the moon adapt, sending new variations, faster, stronger, smarter.
He realized with a chill that the moon wasn't just orchestrating the Crawlers—it was playing a game of evolution, testing humanity, testing him. Each time he struck, it responded. Every tactic he used was measured. And Taya… she was learning too, her underground empire observing, adapting, planning.
Briar raised his voice. "Fall back to the barricades! We hold here!"
The humans moved with precision, following his guidance. Silver arcs tore through the night, lighting up the streets like lightning storms frozen in time. Fires burned, the black bodies of Crawlers twisting and melting under Briar's power. For a moment, victory seemed possible.
And yet, the pulse of the moon didn't waver. It hummed in response to Briar, as if mocking him, daring him to rise higher, push further.
He felt it in his chest, a cold, living heartbeat. He understood now: the war wasn't just with Taya, with the Crawlers, with humanity—it was against the moon itself. And it was awake, aware, judging.
Briar clenched his fists. Silver light flared, illuminating the streets, the survivors, the crawling shadows.
"If she is queen," he whispered, "then I will become king. And we will not fall."
The moon pulsed above, alive, watching, waiting—and somewhere beneath the city, Taya smiled.
The war had begun again.
TO BE CONTINUED….
I Accidentally put a power stone on my own work so I don't want anyone thinking that I did it just to push my own work. It was an accident and I'm trying to get out so just so you guys don't get confused why I got a power stone and became a fan of my own work.