The emptiness inside me was starting to take over.
I wasn't thinking the way I should have been, but I wasn't blind to it either. I could see everything—too clearly. The rain fell in clean, silver lines against the darkness, each drop distinct as it struck bone, skin, and steel. Water pooled in the grooves of the rib beneath me, ran along the cracks, seeped into my open wounds.
It didn't hurt.
That scared me more than anything else.
I watched my shadow as it kept vigil, its shape sharp against the bone, unmoving. Beyond it, the other ribs rose out of the dark like broken spines, each one crawling with Venomclasps. I could see them clinging there, patient, still. Waiting.
I couldn't let my guard down. Not when I could see exactly how much danger still surrounded us.
Exhaustion tried to drag me under anyway. My body sagged, my thoughts thinning, but I forced my eyes to stay open. Seeing was the only thing keeping me anchored.
Thunder rolled overhead.
After a while—long enough for the rain to soak through everything—movement entered my vision. Sare emerged first, running across the rib toward me. Behind her, my Knight guided Trace carefully, one hand hovering near her shoulder to keep her steady.
Sare dropped beside me at once.
"Asher," she said, urgency cutting through the storm. "You need to rest."
"I can't yet," I replied. My voice sounded hollow, like it was coming from somewhere far away. "The ribs are the size of islands—it's safer here—but there are still too many Venomclasps. We can't sleep."
Trace sat down beside me. A soft light bloomed over my chest, bright and gentle, washing over my wounds. I saw it clearly—every thread of it, every pulse.
I caught her wrist.
My grip was weak. She shook it off easily.
"I need to—" she started.
"You can't," I said quietly. "If both of you weaken yourselves because of your ability, it puts us at a disadvantage. And it's still night. If we light this place up too much, every Hollow creature out there will notice."
She stopped.
"I can't see," Trace said after a moment, "but even from the little healing I tried… I could feel your pain."
She turned her face toward me, as if trying to find my eyes.
"How close are you to death?"
I blinked slowly, rain sliding down my lashes. I could see Sare turn her head away, her jaw tightening.
A small chuckle escaped me—soft, dry, almost surprised it came out at all.
"To be honest," I said, staring up at the storm-dark sky, "I don't know."
"Don't be stupid," Trace snapped, sharper than before. "It was only a little healing."
She hesitated, then added quietly, "And it was agonizing."
I lay there, seeing everything—the rain, the bones, the monsters in the distance—and realizing that clarity didn't mean control.
It only meant I knew exactly how close the dark was.
"Let's just keep watch tonight," I said. My voice came out rough, but steady enough. "No sleep. If anything happens, my Knight will help."
I swallowed, then added quietly, "Trust me—if I were going to die, I would've already. You can tell by how it felt. And Sare can tell by my lifeforce."
Trace was silent for a moment.
I could hear the rain tapping against bone, the distant scrape of something moving far off. I could see it all clearly—the ribs stretching into the dark, the Venomclasps clinging where they were, unmoving but alert.
Finally, Trace nodded. "Fine. Just for tonight. We'll stay up and watch—measure their behavior patterns. Then we'll decide if this place is stable enough to stay."
"I agree," I said, though getting the words out took more effort than it should have.
Sare turned toward us. "Trace—do you still have the cooked meat from earlier?"
Trace reached into her pack and handed some over. Sare took it and moved between us, distributing it carefully.
I pushed myself upright with a low groan and took the food. The first bite hit me like a shock.
Warm. Salty. Real.
It felt like ecstasy.
I ate fast—too fast—tearing into it like a starving animal. My hands moved on instinct, my body ignoring its own injuries as if food alone mattered more than pain. Rain soaked into my clothes, ran down my arms, but I barely noticed.
I'm glad Trace can't see me right now, I thought, exhaling softly through my nose.
As my pace finally slowed, I felt it—eyes on me.
I looked up and caught Sare staring.
Heat rushed to my face despite the cold rain. "I'm just… hungry," I muttered, taking another bite to avoid her gaze.
She smiled faintly. "I wasn't judging."
Trace tilted her head. "What are you two talking about?"
"Nothing," Sare replied, a small chuckle in her voice.
"What am I missing?" Trace turned her head slightly, listening to us, using our voices to pinpoint where we were. "You're both being suspicious."
I laughed before I could stop myself—then immediately groaned, pressing a hand to my chest as the sound pulled at something tender inside.
The rain kept falling.
The monsters stayed where they were.
And for the first time since the fight ended, the night felt… manageable.
Not safe.
But survivable.
Trace turned her face toward me, orienting herself by my breathing.
"Asher," she said quietly, "what promise did you make to go this far?"
The question landed heavier than the thunder.
"You should be dead," she continued—not cruelly, but honestly. "But you're clinging to life like you refuse to let it go. Why?"
I looked at her. Even in the dark, I knew where she was. My eyes softened, my gaze dropping for a moment before lifting again.
"It was… two promises," I said. "And honestly… there's also someone I want to see when we get out."
Trace stiffened. Her eyes widened slightly. "Someone you've never mentioned."
I nodded. "They don't really know I exist. Not in any way that matters. So I never thought it was worth saying."
I paused, rain sliding down my face as I searched for the right words.
"But they're important to me."
The silence that followed felt fragile.
"As for the first promise," I went on, quieter now, "it was made when she died. My mom."
Both of them froze.
"She told me to live a life I decide," I said. "Not one chosen for me. Not one forced on me by anyone else."
My jaw tightened. "I don't think I've fully understood what she meant by that. But… I want to. I want to figure it out before I die."
Trace's expression softened. Whatever smile she'd been holding faded into something more serious.
Then Sare spoke.
"And the second?" she asked.
I hadn't expected the question from her.
I hesitated, then let out a slow breath. "That one was made to someone who risked their life for me. Someone who didn't have to."
I leaned back, bracing my arms behind me as I stared up at the storm-dark sky.
"They made me promise to live," I said. "Not just survive. To stop accepting death so casually—like it was already waiting for me."
Sare was quiet for a moment. Then, carefully, she asked,
"What do you mean by accept death?"
I didn't look at her.
"I already told you," I said. "And I wasn't lying. It was the truth."
I let the rain hit my face, cold and grounding.
Trace shifted slightly, turning fully toward me. "That's good," she said after a moment. "At least now you have something better than just not dying."
Her voice softened.
"I could tell—by how desperate you were, by how broken your body is—that even if it's only for a moment… wanting something is better than just enduring."
She paused.
"It gives you a direction."
Thunder rolled overhead again, distant this time.
And for the first time that night, as exhaustion pulled at me from every side, I realized I wasn't holding on just because I refused to let go.
I was holding on because there was still something ahead of me.