ash

At that moment, everyone saw the same thing.

The creatures emerged from the dark water, draped in strands of seaweed that hung like the shredded clothes of drowned men. Their bones were marked with black stains, as if something poisonous had gnawed at them for years, and their empty eye sockets glowed with a sinister light. Shells clung to their limbs, and murky, foul-smelling water trickled through the cracks in their bones, leaving dark, oozing trails behind.

Their movements were unnatural. Jerky, twitching spasms, as if some invisible force were pulling their strings like grotesque puppets. With each step, they let out wet, rasping noises — like the final death-rattles of mouths long since silenced.

The dead. Walking bones.

But not ordinary ones.

These skeletons moved too fast.

A wave of cold terror pierced through the people. Hearts clenched, muscles froze, and minds went blank — but instinct was stronger. The crowd broke into a frantic run. Some fell, others were trampled. Screams blended into one rising symphony of panic.

Gloomer, who had sounded the alarm, felt no relief.

— Damn it! — he swore, leaping over a fallen man. — Where the hell are those idiots?!

Desperately, he scanned the chaos, searching for his friends among the storm of fleeing bodies.

And then came the darkness.

Sudden. Complete.

As if the sun itself had vanished — taking even the memory of light with it.

Darkness fell over the island, thickening like something alive. Shapeless shadows flickered within it. All around, there were the sounds of wet, fast footsteps, the thundering sprint of skeletons, and the choking rasp of their rotting voices.

Gloomer ran.

Fast. Focused.

He couldn't stop. Not for a second.

But his friends were nowhere to be seen.

Don't say they're already—

No. Not now. You can't lose hope.

Just then, someone grabbed his hand.

He spun around, ready to strike.

Standing before him was Ars.

— Ars?! — Gloomer could barely believe it. — Where are the others?

— Ahead. I was looking for you, — Ars replied flatly.

Gloomer's heart stopped, then slammed back into rhythm, pounding in his chest. It was like a veil had been lifted from his mind.

He remembered everything.

The Dark Island. The Black Sea. It all made sense now.

But why had only the adults vanished?

Why had the darkness struck now?

He tried to pull his hand away and run ahead, but Ars held him tightly. Too tightly.

— Where are we going?!

— To the center. To the village of Dori. It's safe there.

Ars was always short and precise with his words.

Dori — the closest settlement to Blackwater. Just half an hour on foot through the forest.

But tonight…

Tonight they'd have to move much faster.

Heavy drops fell from the sky, knocking the rhythm from their breath.

Damn it.

No fire. Torches were useless.

How the hell were they supposed to find their way in this darkness?

Ars stopped, unsure which way to go.

Gloomer, who knew the island like the back of his hand, burst forward, feeling his way with both hands, sensing every root, every branch, every stone. His reactions sharpened with every tiny shift in the terrain.

Only the faintest moonlight gave shape to the trees.

— I know the way! — Gloomer shouted. — The shortest path! They probably took it too!

Now he led. Ars followed close behind without a word.

They ran into the forest.

Cold. Silent.

Gloomer took a few branches to the face but didn't slow down for a second.

Behind them came screaming.

Shit.

Familiar voices.

Why..?

He couldn't think about that now.

Then suddenly, he tripped.

No. No. No!

He wasn't sure anymore.

He had to slow down.

The mistake became clear too late.

The next moment, something grabbed Ars by the shoulder.

A yank.

A hiss.

Ars spun around.

In front of him — a skeleton.

Unarmed.

But alive.

Its hollow eyes glowed in the dark, its breath — heavy and threatening.

Gloomer froze for half a second.

— What the hell…?! — he almost screamed. — They can't have gotten here this fast! They can't!

Ars stood frozen, paralyzed by the sight.

The creature was already leaning toward him.

Gloomer's reflexes kicked in first.

He kicked the skeleton with such force that it lost balance and collapsed into the mud.

But the touch...

His hand.

It was freezing cold.

Not like a cold stone. No.

Like death.

For a moment, it was as if Ars's soul had frozen solid.

But that single moment was enough for Gloomer to snap him back to reality.

Ars sprang into motion.

— No, that's not possible, is it? — Gloomer thought to himself, leaping over stones that emerged from the dark like sudden traps.

He instantly remembered the village of Dori. Compared to their miserable settlement, it was two — maybe three — times bigger. There was more work, sure, but more importantly — food. In Dori, they were fed better than anywhere else.

But paradise had its price: long hours of hard labor… and sleep.

Gloomer didn't feel tired. He pressed forward until the trees began to thin. And then, finally, they reached the hilltop.

From there, they had a perfect view of the slope leading down into the village. That was exactly where he was heading.

But something was wrong.

People stood at the edge of the hill. Their silhouettes barely visible in the dark. Just standing there. Silent. Motionless.

Gloomer picked up his pace, with Ars close behind. As they got closer, Gloomer recognized the figures — familiar faces, fellow villagers. But Lark and Vale weren't among them.

He was about to ask what was going on, but in the next moment, his gaze dropped downward—

And his pupils shrank to pinpoints.

The first thing they saw from the hilltop was the light. Warm, reddish...

But not from torches.

From fire.

Flames devoured rooftops, licked at the walls, danced through the streets. Thick clouds of black smoke rose into the sky, tearing through the night. Crimson flares flickered among the shadows, as if hell itself had broken loose among the living.

They were staring straight into the mouth of the abyss.

Even from here, the screams reached them. People calling for help, sobbing, howling in agony.

The village of Dori was burning.

And not even the rain could stop that terrible blaze.

Gloomer swallowed hard. His heart pounded in his chest.

But the nightmare didn't end there. Far beyond the village, more smoke rose in the distance. Another fire.

He no longer felt the cold. Only emptiness.

The village of Dori had stood for hundreds of years. Now, it was gone.

And with it, the last hope that clung to the hearts of these people had burned away.

Ars looked away first. He clenched his fists, wanting to say something — but the words stuck in his throat.

Footsteps sounded behind them.

Gloomer turned his head slowly.

Lark. Vale.

They were alive.

Gloomer didn't show any emotion. He didn't run to them, didn't hug them, didn't sigh in relief. He just stood there, staring.

Lark looked up at the sky, then fixed his gaze on the burning village.

His pupils, too, narrowed. His hands began to tremble.

He slowly opened his mouth to speak.

There was no anger in his voice. No despair.

Only emptiness.

— Mother Goddess… why? Why do you take even hope away from us? It's all we had left...

No one answered him.

Vale quietly breathed out:

— Well… at least we'll be warm now... — he said, but there was not even a hint of a joke in his voice.

He stood frozen, eyes locked on the flames.

His hollow gaze, reflecting the fire, said everything.

Through the wind, a voice cut through. Rough. Broken.

— This… this island. I've seen it before. In a dream.

They all turned.

He stood there, feet slightly apart, swaying as if battered by a wind that didn't exist.

Silent. No one interrupted.

Gloomer looked at him — and for a second, he didn't see a face. Just a mask. The eyes — white, like a dead fish pulled from the sea. No focus. No life. As if he had died long ago, and his body just hadn't realized it yet.

— No one survived… — he muttered.

And stepped forward.

There were no screams. He simply vanished from view — followed by a sound: a thud, a crack, then silence.

No one moved.

No questions.

Only glances — down, then at each other.

Gloomer suddenly felt the ground tremble beneath his feet. Or maybe it was just his fingers shaking — he couldn't tell anymore.

Someone began to laugh. Low. Hoarse. Mad. Drawn out. Without reason.

And no one wanted to speak to make it stop.