The wind changed.
Kael felt it before he heard anything—
A sharpness in the air.
The way sound bent too tightly around empty space.
Zeyn froze mid-step.
His eyes narrowed.
"They found us."
They had been walking along a shallow ridge, the stone beneath their feet brittle and bone-white. No trees. No cover.
The only shelter was a half-collapsed structure ahead—a shell of metal and stone jutting like a broken rib from the earth.
Zeyn pointed.
"In there."
Kael didn't argue.
They crouched behind a fractured panel, breath shallow.
The bottle throbbed softly, warning—not panicked.
Kael gripped it beneath his cloak.
Figures emerged over the far ridge.
Three. Maybe four.
Armor matte-gray. Faces covered. Movement silent.
They didn't walk like Hollow hunters.
Didn't carry spell-staves or runeblades.
They moved like machines that had learned to bleed.
Zeyn swore under his breath.
"Gravebound."
Kael looked at him.
"Who?"
Zeyn didn't take his eyes off the ridge.
"Scavengers turned zealots. Worship the old wreckage. Think machines were gods."
The figures spread out.
One knelt, placed a small orb on the ground.
It flared red once.
Then dimmed.
Zeyn stood.
"Nope."
Kael caught his arm.
"You're leaving?"
Zeyn didn't meet his eyes.
"You lit up a core node. You think I'm dying for someone holding that kind of heat?"
Kael stepped in front of him.
"You said you'd help."
"I said I'd map for you. Not get carved open by soul-magnets."
The orb on the ridge blinked again.
Red to green.
One of the Gravebound stood straight.
Turned directly toward their hiding spot.
Zeyn cursed.
He shoved Kael backward.
"Then run."
He bolted sideways, drawing attention away.
Kael didn't move.
Not yet.
He felt the bottle warm again.
Different now.
Not a pulse.
A presence.
Like it had risen to the surface of his mind, waiting.
Watching.
The Gravebound approached.
Two spread left.
One raised a hooked staff—etched with dying circuits and faded blood.
Kael backed into the ruin.
Nowhere left to run.
He gripped the bottle.
Whispered.
"Do something."
The world flexed.
Not visibly.
But inside.
His bones trembled.
The air twisted.
The lead Gravebound stumbled, weapon sparking.
The second cried out—his mask bursting inward like crushed tin.
The third dropped, clutching their head.
The bottle glowed through Kael's cloak.
Veins of light spiraling through the fabric like threads woven into time.
Then silence.
Kael fell to his knees, breath gone.
Vision blurred.
The bottle cooled in his hand.
Steam rose from his sleeves.
His fingertips burned.
The Gravebound were gone.
Fled.
Felled.
He didn't know.
Didn't care.
Zeyn was gone too.
The ridge lay empty.
Only wind remained.
And dust.
Kael collapsed against the stone wall.
He didn't sleep.
But he didn't move either.
Inside his mind, a voice flickered.
Not words.
Just a whisper of thought.
You called.
We answered.