Traditional Humans
He froze.
A strange sensation pulsed through his veins.
Faint. Subtle. But unmistakable.
His blood.
A connection.
His eyes widened.
That pulse… that signal—he knew it. It was the same one he had crafted months ago when he gave Alice a vial of his blood to track her if they were ever separated.
"No way…" he whispered. His breath caught.
He concentrated—barely able to move, but fully aware.
The connection was active.
That meant…
She was alive.
"But how…?" he muttered, stunned.
The image of Alice turning to dust replayed in his mind—Mark's smile, the snap of his fingers, the horror in her eyes—and yet this sensation…
It was real.
It was her.
Just as hope sparked in his chest—something darker stirred too.
The memory twisted. The pain surged again.
Rage.
It returned like a beast snapping free of its cage.
His hands clenched into the dirt.