Chapter 12: Grounders

Elys stayed close to the center of their formation, his eyes flickering between the faces of the other guards and the nervous civilians gathered nearby. He was holding a small syringe tucked discreetly in his pocket. His fingers brushed against it unconsciously, a reminder of the unknown substances they'd salvaged from the trashed bunker. He had taken two of them, and the mystery of their purpose gnawed at him.

But for now, that was a secondary concern. There was something else — something larger than any of them — stalking the forest.

"Look at them," Reyna muttered beside him, her gaze sweeping over the civilians. "They're hoping we found some miracle fix. Something to make this place a home."

Elys gave a low, humorless laugh. "Yeah, and here we are, bringing back more questions and some new friends." He glanced over his shoulder to where the eight newcomers were being led into camp by a pair of tense-looking guards. Dressed in crude, scavenged armor and carrying handmade weapons, the strangers moved with a cautious grace, their eyes flickering over every detail, every potential threat.

They looked like warriors. Or survivors. People hardened by a life Elys couldn't even begin to imagine. And after yesterday's chaotic encounter, the sudden transformation, and the lightning that split the sky in that brief, violent flash of gold…

"What do we do now?" Kai asked quietly. He was limping slightly, his face pale from the wound he'd taken when the ambush had broken out. Beside him, Yasmin was scowling, her eyes narrowed as she watched the newcomers being shuffled into a holding area.

"We talk to them," Elys said firmly. "If we can."

"Talk?" Yasmin shot him a look. "Elys, one of them turned into—"

"Into something none of us understand," he cut her off sharply. "We need answers, not more corpses. If we don't handle this right, it could turn ugly fast."

Tomou, the guard who had escalated things with a hasty attack, glowered from a few feet away. His face was set in a stubborn scowl, a fresh bandage wrapped around his shoulder where the shifter's ally had slashed him. "We should be locking them up. Questioning them. They could be—"

"Be what?" Elys snapped, rounding on him. "A threat? Sure. But we're all threats, Tomou. Or did you forget we're the invaders here? They've been living on this ground long before we even set foot here."

Tomou bristled but didn't respond. Elys turned back to the others, his shoulders tense. "I want peace because I don't think we can win a war against them," he said quietly. "Not if they can… shift like that."

The group fell silent. Reyna looked troubled, her brow furrowed. She had been closest when the shifter had taken that arrow and, moments later, erupted into a creature of nightmare — a half-formed, skinless titan, muscles and sinew bulging grotesquely. The transformation had been brief, the creature stumbling and collapsing almost immediately. But the damage it could have done…

"I think Elys is right," Reyna said at last. "We need to learn more. There's more at stake here than just defending the pods. If these people have survived all this time… we need to know how. And why."

The guards shifted uneasily. Yasmin crossed her arms, nodding reluctantly. "Okay, so we talk. What do we even ask them?"

Elys hesitated, his mind racing. "We start with the basics. Where they come from. What's out there. What they know about the area. And then… we see what happens."

Tomou muttered something under his breath, but Elys ignored him. The decision had been made. He squared his shoulders and took a step forward, heading toward the makeshift holding area where the eight newcomers waited under the watchful eyes of the guards.

The lead figure, a broad-shouldered woman with a scar running down one side of her face, turned as he approached. Her expression was wary, her stance tense, but she made no move to rise. Elys met her gaze steadily.

"My name is Elys Cain," he said quietly. "I'm not here to fight. I just want to talk."

The woman's eyes narrowed slightly. She exchanged a look with one of her companions, a younger man with a shaved head and a jagged tattoo curling around his neck. Then she nodded, slowly.

"I'm Naida," she said, her voice low and gravelly. "And you're right. We don't want to fight, either."

The tension in the air eased just slightly. Elys let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Okay," he said softly. "Let's start simple. Who are you? Where are you from?"

Naida glanced at her companions again. Then, slowly, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "We're from the Westlands," she said. "What's left of it. Our people… we're scattered, few and far between. Some of us live in old ruins, some in the forests. We've been watching this place ever since you fell from the sky."

Elys's brow furrowed. "And the… shifting?"

Naida's expression tightened. "That… is a curse. A burden. Not something we choose."

"A curse?" Reyna echoed sharply. "What are you talking about?"

Naida's eyes darkened. "The old world left more than just ruins and death behind. Some of us… some of us carry its legacy in our blood. When the pain is too great, when the body breaks… sometimes it changes. But not into something stronger. Into something broken."

Elys's skin prickled. A curse. A burden. A legacy of the old world…

"Are there more of you?" he asked softly.

Naida hesitated. Then she shook her head. "Not like us. Most of the others… they fear us. Shun us. We're all that's left."

Elys exchanged a quick look with Reyna. This was bigger than they'd thought. Bigger than just a few strangers in the woods.

"We're not your enemies," he said quietly. "We want to survive here, just like you do."

Naida's gaze softened, just slightly. "Then prove it."

Elys nodded slowly. "We will. But first… we need to understand. Everything."

And as the sun rose higher in the sky, casting long shadows over the makeshift camp, Elys knew that understanding would be just the beginning. There was a war brewing—one they weren't prepared for.

One that might consume them all.