The sun had barely risen when Artemis and Elara left the hideout, blending into the dense fog that curled through the valley like smoke from a sleeping dragon.
Artemis wore a tattered cloak over her armor, her white hair tucked into the hood. Elara kept close behind, guiding with a handheld compass attuned to faint pulses of portal residue—her own invention, linked to the beacon Artemis carried.
Every few minutes, the compass pulsed softly.
There was someone nearby.
A bonded one.
"We're getting close," Elara whispered, tightening her grip on her rifle. "Energy spike's too erratic to be a Hunter."
Artemis nodded. "Do we approach slow?"
"Definitely. We don't know how stable they are."
They crept down into the ruins of an overgrown train station. The tracks had twisted with age and heat, curling like dead vines. Half-buried cars lay scattered across the landscape—some melted into the ground, others eerily intact.
The compass blinked faster.
Then they heard it—a humming sound, low and vibrating, like a song played beneath the skin.
"Do you hear that?" Artemis asked.
Elara nodded, voice tense. "That's not mechanical. That's… resonance."
They turned a corner—
—and froze.
In the center of the old platform stood a figure.
Barefoot.
Eyes closed.
Long, dark braids draped over their back like vines. Their skin shimmered faintly with moving patterns, like ink flowing just beneath the surface. Around them, jagged debris floated in midair—levitating slowly, orbiting like moons.
Their eyes opened. Gold. Glowing.
"I felt you," the figure said, voice low and calm. "You called me here."
Artemis stepped forward slowly. "We didn't mean harm. Are you… bonded too?"
The figure tilted their head. "Bonded? No. I am claimed."
Artemis blinked. "What's the difference?"
The floating debris slammed to the ground at once, and energy pulsed in the air like a thunderclap.
"I let it in," they said. "I invited the power. And now it obeys."
Elara stepped beside Artemis, whispering, "This one's not like you. Their energy's unstable. Unfiltered."
The figure walked toward them—calm, graceful, powerful. "You're holding it back," they said to Artemis. "You fear what you've become."
"I'm trying to stay human," Artemis replied quietly.
The figure smiled—serene, terrifying. "Why? Humanity is dying. We are what comes next."
Then the figure's hand lifted—and the earth shook.
Chunks of concrete flew toward Artemis.
She moved fast, claws flashing, slicing them from the air. Elara dove to the side, rifle raised, firing stun pulses that only seemed to slow the figure's movement.
Artemis lunged, tackling the stranger. They rolled across the broken platform, power surging between them like lightning caught in a bottle.
"You don't have to fight me!" Artemis shouted. "We're the same!"
"No," the figure hissed, eyes burning brighter. "You're still weak."
But Artemis didn't back down. She grabbed their arm, pressing her Beacon into their skin—
FLASH.
A pulse of energy exploded outward, knocking both of them back.
The figure lay gasping, stunned, eyes wide. For a moment, the glow faded. The debris fell.
"W-what did you do?" they whispered.
"I showed you what control feels like," Artemis said, panting. "You're not a god. You're just scared like the rest of us."
The stranger looked at their trembling hands. "I… forgot what I was."
Elara stepped forward cautiously. "What's your name?"
"…Nova," they said finally.
"Nova," Artemis repeated. "We're trying to find others like us. Keep them safe. Fight the ones hunting us. Will you come with us?"
Nova hesitated. Then slowly nodded.
"Yes. But if I lose control again… don't hesitate."
Artemis gave a grim nod. "I won't."
They left the station together—three of them now. One walking the line between what was human and what came after.
And somewhere deep beneath the earth, the portal pulsed once more.