Chapter 4 Into the dark

Dain Veils raised his rifle.

He didn't hesitate. His aim was steady, his breath controlled—a survivor's instinct honed through years of fighting.

The Nullborn crouched in the ruins of their shattered hideout, its limbs twitching, its featureless head tilting slightly toward him.

Dain pulled the trigger.

The shot never landed.

The Nullborn disappeared.

And then—so did Dain.

One second, he had been standing in front of them.

The next, he was simply… gone.

No sound. No scream.

Not even a body left behind.

Just nothing.

Like he had never existed.

The air where he had stood rippled, twisted—then snapped back into place.

Elias felt his stomach drop into a pit of ice.

"What—what just happened?!" Callum's voice cracked, his face pale.

Lyra took a step back, dagger clenched in her trembling hand. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No, no, no. That's not—"

The Nullborn turned toward them.

It had no face.

But Elias could feel it watching him.

It was stronger. Faster. Different.

And then—the voice spoke.

"Run."

A Predator Unlike Before

Elias didn't think. He just moved.

"Run!" he shouted, grabbing Callum by the arm and pulling him away.

Lyra was already moving, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

The Nullborn flickered—and then it was in front of them.

Elias barely skidded to a stop before crashing into it.

It didn't move like the others.

It wasn't lunging, wasn't clawing wildly.

It was just… waiting.

"Do not get close." The voice inside his head was calm. Too calm.

"What do we do?" Elias whispered under his breath, his pulse hammering.

"It rewrites space, Elias. It does not move faster than you. It moves exactly where it wants to kill."

Elias swallowed hard. That's how it erased Dain.

One step too close—and he'd be next.

"Stay back!" he warned the others.

But Callum was in shock, his hands shaking. "Dain's gone—he's just—just—"

The Nullborn twitched.

And then it was gone again.

Elias felt his body freeze. His fingers clenched into fists.

"Left."

He didn't question it. He just moved.

A fraction of a second later—the Nullborn appeared right where he had just been standing.

Callum let out a strangled gasp.

If Elias hadn't moved—he would have been erased.

His breathing came in fast, uneven bursts. This was different. This was worse.

"You must strike at the moment it manifests."

Elias' hands were shaking. "I don't—I don't know how—"

"You do. Or you will die."

The Nullborn flickered.

Elias grip tightened on a jagged piece of rebar lying near his feet.

"Wait. Wait. Now—"

The Nullborn reappeared.

Elias swung.

CRACK.

The rebar slammed into its skull.

For the first time, the Nullborn staggered. It could be hurt.

Elias' breath came in sharp, ragged gasps. He could kill it. But only if he followed the voice.

The Nullborn flickered again.

Elias didn't let his fear take over.

"Again. When I say—"

It blinked—

"Now."

Elias lunged forward, swinging with everything he had. The rebar connected, driving deep into its shifting body. The Nullborn convulsed. Its form glitched, its limbs spasming wildly.

And then—it shattered.

Gone.

This time, for good.

Elias collapsed to his knees, gasping.His hands trembled. He had survived. But not on his own.

Not because of skill.

Because of the voice.

Elias shut his eyes, his breath ragged. Who… what was this thing inside him?

Callum was on the ground, his face pale. Dain was gone.

Just like that.

Lyra stood motionless. She wasn't crying.

But something about the way her fingers dug into her own arms, the way her breathing shook— She was barely holding herself together.

The silence afterward was deafening.

There had been no body to bury.

No way to mourn.

Just erased.

Finally, Lyra turned to him.

And for the first time, there was no accusation in her eyes. Just exhaustion. And something deeper.

"How did you know where it would be?" she asked.

Elias opened his mouth, then closed it.

He couldn't tell them about the voice.

Couldn't tell them he was already forgetting things.

Instead, he just shook his head. "Lucky guess."

Lyra didn't press.

But the look in her eyes said she didn't believe him.

Elias stood in the wreckage, his body still trembling from the fight.

The world felt too quiet.

Callum hadn't spoken since the battle ended. Lyra's breathing was still uneven. She stood with her back turned, head bowed slightly—a silent war raging inside her.

She had barely tolerated Elias before. Now, she had to rely on him.

Elias swallowed hard.

He had followed the voice. Obeyed its commands.

And because of that, he survived.

But the victory felt... hollow.

"You are learning."

The voice spoke again.

Elias' fingers curled into fists.

"You are beginning to understand, Elias. The world, you know is being erased."

He exhaled sharply.

Then—He saw something buried in the rubble.

At first, it was just a glint of metal, half-buried beneath the ruins.

Elias stepped forward, brushing aside chunks of broken stone. His pulse quickened.

It wasn't metal.

It was a piece of parchment.

Old, brittle—but intact. The edges were lined with **Ruinscript symbols**, flickering faintly as if still alive.

And on the center of the map—a name was scrawled in dark ink.

Celeste Ravelle.

Elias' breath caught.

The name clawed at something deep in his mind.

A memory he couldn't quite reach.

He ran his fingers over the paper, heart pounding. Who was Celeste?

And why—Why did he feel like he should remember her?

Then, the voice inside his head whispered:

"The answers you seek are hidden beneath the ruins."

Elias looked up, his grip tightening on the parchment.

"I think I know where we need to go."

Callum barely reacted. He was still lost in his own grief.

But Lyra turned, her sharp eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"

Elias hesitated. He didn't know what was waiting for them. He didn't even know if this was his memory or if it was something the voice wanted him to follow.

But what choice did they have?

"This map leads to something," he said finally. "Someone named Celeste. If she's alive… she might have answers."

Lyra looked at the parchment, then at Elias. She was searching his face for something—a lie, a weakness, a reason to argue.

But she found none.

After a moment, she exhaled. "Then let's move."

She didn't trust him.

But she trusted the need to keep moving.

They turned their backs to the wreckage of their past—and walked toward the unknown.

They didn't see him.

A lone figure stood atop the remains of a collapsed building, watching from the shadows.

He had been following them. Observing.

And now, as Elias walked away, map in hand, the man let out a low, dark chuckle.

"So," he murmured, tilting his head. "He survived?"

His voice was smooth, amused—but cold.

Then he turned, disappearing into the ruins, once again.