For a few seconds, nobody moved. Nobody even breathed.
Raith stood there—hunched, panting hard, his right arm trembling at his side. Dust swirled around him in slow curls, catching the faint golden glow of his Mark.
Every breath he took sounded ragged like his body was already fighting to keep up. And still, he walked.
One step. Then another.
Toward the monster.
The Crawler twitched where it had landed—its leg was broken, its body leaking thick streaks of purple-green fluid onto the fractured pavement. It wasn't dead.
"That punch…" the Kid whispered. Her voice was small, shaky, muffled through her helmet. "His body can't handle that power…"
Kev turned to look at her, then shifted his eyes back to Raith. He saw it too now—the uneven steps, the way Raith's right shoulder sagged just a little more than before.
Something was off.
Dane said nothing for a long moment. His jaw was tight, and his brows pulled low. He watched Raith like he was trying to memorize him.
"She's right," he muttered finally. "Someone needs to pull him back. He's pushing too far."
Dane exhaled sharply. "If he doesn't kill the monster soon, he's gonna tear himself apart."
Mira snapped her head toward him. "Then why are we just standing here? We should help him—"
Kev cut her off, voice flat. "How?"
He wasn't angry. Just tired and defeated.
"We're not awakened," Kev said it like a fact. Like a door slamming shut.
Mira's fists clenched. She didn't argue. The Kid looked down, her hand pressed over her own chest like she was checking for something that wasn't there.
No one moved.
Then the Crawler let out a scream.
Not a roar—something sharper. A high, screeching noise that sliced through the air like metal tearing itself in half. It didn't hesitate. It lunged again—faster this time, dragging its mangled leg behind like it didn't even notice it was broken.
Its crystal-tipped legs flared out as it dove straight for Raith.
He saw it—but not fast enough. His body moved, half-turning, but the monster was already too close. It slammed into him, claws sweeping wide.
Raith raised his arm to block—his right arm. The same one that had taken the recoil. It didn't snap, but it buckled.
There was a sickening jolt through his shoulder like the pieces inside didn't fit together anymore. His arm dropped limp at his side. Useless.
"What?!" he panicked. "Why can't I move my right hand?"
But the monster wasn't waiting.
It lashed again, low and vicious.
Raith tried to lift his right arm once again. This time, he let his thought believe that it was powered by the Force.
Nothing. It didn't respond—just flared with pain like fire had been poured into his shoulder joint.
He gritted his teeth, eyes flicking toward the monster.
He had no time.
With a shout, he threw up his left fist instead. It wasn't instinct—it was desperation.
The punch connected, slamming hard into the Crawler's front leg. The impact cracked against crystal, knocking the beast sideways in a blur of tangled limbs and shrieking metal.
But it didn't fly.
It rolled. Slid. Scraped across the ground—and then stopped. Already recovering.
Raith took a few shaky steps back. One. Two. Three. His legs wobbled. His lungs burned.
That punch hadn't been like the first.
He'd held back.
Not because he meant to. Not because he'd figured anything out. But because his body had screamed at him not to go all in again. Not if he wanted to stay standing.
Now, even his left arm throbbed.
The power inside him was still there—boiling under the surface—but it wasn't stable. It wanted out. All of it. All at once. Whether his body could handle it or not.
Everything hurt.
He looked at his hand—twitching fingers, muscles spasming—and suddenly all the stories he'd read, all the entries in that old journal, came back with new weight.
'My body's not ready for this.'
Super Strength—it sounded simple. But, it wasn't.
Even trained Tuners could tear muscles or snap bones if they pushed too hard, too soon. He'd read that. He knew it. But knowing didn't change the fact that his body was unraveling from the inside.
And worse—this Force he'd awakened… it wasn't calm. It wasn't patient.
It wanted to be used.
'It doesn't care if I survive,' he thought. 'It just wants out.'
The Crawler let out a metallic shriek and started moving again.
Raith's head snapped up, heart pounding.
It was already lunging.
He couldn't take another hit.
"Shit—" he hissed, breath catching. "I can't hold it!"
His voice tore from his throat as he turned toward the others. "Run! Get back to the portal!"
He only had time for one glance—just enough to see them still frozen. Dane didn't move. Neither did Mira. Nobody moved.
"We're not leaving you!" Dane shouted back, voice rough with anger and fear. His limp didn't stop him from stepping forward.
Mira came up beside him. "You go down, we go down. That's it."
Raith stared at them in disbelief. "You'll die—"
"You want us to just watch?!" Mira yelled. "You think that's better?!"
Kev's voice broke in, sharp and panicked. "We're all gonna die if we stay! He can't even stand straight! We should run—get to the portal, call for backup!"
Mira snapped her head toward him. "Oh yeah? You think they'll help us? You think anyone gives a damn about Untuned who got in over their heads?"
Kev hesitated. His mouth opened. He wanted to say something—but nothing came out.
Raith kept breathing—sharp, rough, shoulders drawn tight. Every inhale felt like it scraped the inside of his ribs. Like breathing through glass shards.
But something in Mira's voice struck him.
Not the tone. The truth.
No one was coming. No backup. No rescue.
It was just them here right now.
Raith's legs shook beneath him. His lungs fought to drag in enough air, but nothing stayed in his chest long enough to matter.
And for a brief, cracked second, he almost laughed.
Not out loud.
Just… inside.
He wondered if this was it. The ending for his pitiful life.
After seventeen years of crawling through dirt, being forgotten, beaten, and named by numbers instead of words—he finally awakened.
And now he was about to die.
'The universe has one hell of a sense of humor,' he thought bitterly.
His vision blurred at the edges. The pain was crawling—up his spine, across his ribs, down through every nerve in his good arm.
His right arm?
Gone. Worthless.
His left?
Barely holding on.
His body was giving out faster than the monster could kill him. And still… the flashes of his life came. Like memory was getting in one last punch.
A metal cot, always cold. Mold on the ceiling, water-stained and never cleaned. Ration bars that tasted like rust.
The sting of a hit for a fight he didn't even start. The sound of someone calling out "Number 707" instead of "Raith."
He had no family and no future.
But even a life like his didn't want to end like this. And somewhere between the pain and the panic, something else broke through.
Hope.
Not for himself. Not entirely.
But for them. For Mira. For Dane. The Kid. Even Kev.
If he could kill the monster—here, now—maybe they could run. Make it to the portal. Maybe they'd survive.
And maybe, if the soldiers saw what he could do… if they saw his Mark, saw that he wasn't just another expendable Untuned—they wouldn't discard him this time.
Maybe someone would finally look at him and see something worth keeping.
Anywhere was better than dying in this hell.
That thought dug in.
And it held him up.
Raith exhaled slowly. Heat burned through his veins like a coiled engine straining at the limits.
His fingers curled into a fist. Just one. The left.
It hurt like hell. But it held.
'I just need one clean hit,' he told himself.
His eyes locked on the Crawler. It wasn't charging now. It circled, twitchy and low to the ground, dragging its broken limb. Wounded. Cautious.
Raith studied it.
The way it leaned to one side. The hitch in its movement. The nervous twitch every time it turned its head too fast.
The body was mutated.
But the brain?
Still buried in that jagged skull.
'The head,' Raith thought. 'That's the weak point. If I hit it there… hard enough… it won't get back up.'
He took a step. He wasn't steady. But he was taking a step forward.
Another step. Then another.
He didn't look back. Couldn't.
He knew Mira was behind him. Knew Dane would watch his back. Knew the Kid was still frozen. And Kev—well, Kev was Kev.
But right now, none of that mattered.
It was him and the monster.
And one last shot.
Raith rolled his shoulder once, set his jaw, and moved.