The Pulse That Broke the Silence
The Grin moved like it remembered being human once.
Joints twisted in the wrong directions. Its weight dragged the soil behind it like shadow-scars. The hum never returned—but something beneath the silence trembled, like a vibration trying to claw through memory.
Kaelen stepped in front of Yolti.
His hand flared. The glyph on his wrist responded, glowing soft orange with Veilmark heat.
Yolti followed, her pulse flaring cold and sharp, lines of light trailing up her arm like roots through glass.
They moved in unison.
But the moment they leapt—
The resonance broke.
Their marks stuttered. Glyphlight scattered. The pressure in the air collapsed like a snapped string.
Kaelen dropped to one knee.
Yolti stumbled, teeth clenched. "The hell—?"
The Grin surged forward.
No scream. Just a low creak—like a door opening into something it shouldn't.
It would've torn them open.
It would've dragged them down and erased the sound of their names—
If something hadn't dropped from the trees above.
No sound. Just the flash of a cloak.
And the scream of crystal meeting bone.
The Grin reeled back.
A figure landed in front of them, one hand extended, the other still lowering from a kill-strike.
He wore no insignia.
Just black. A mask. A presence that silenced even the Rift.
Yolti whispered, "…No way."
Kaelen's eyes widened. "That mark—"
The masked figure stood between them and the Riftborn.
And the Veilmark on his arm flared.
Crystal.
But not like theirs.
Not like anything they'd ever seen.