The laughter grew unbearable. It rose and fell in every possible pitch, shrieking like broken instruments, booming like drums, echoing like hundreds of different voices overlapping. Ashfall staggered sideways through the rubble, his palms clamped hard against his ears, but it didn't matter. The sound crawled straight through his skull, rattling inside his head until spots danced across his vision.
Calethia was beside him at first, her jaw clenched, moving with the same uneven steps as him. Together they stumbled down what was once a street, past collapsed walls and shattered beams, toward the monstrous silhouettes looming in the haze.
And then he saw the two Core Mythbornes—those titanic horrors that should never exist—towered in front of the ruins. Their bodies twisted and jerked with each peal of laughter. The smaller Minor Mythbornes rushed forward in a frenzy, throwing themselves against the giants' forms. But they weren't being torn apart or crushed; they were absorbed.
Ashfall blinked hard, trying to believe what his eyes were showing him. The Cores opened their elongated arms and gaping maws, and the Minors willingly climbed into them, their laughter rising higher as if the act itself was some kind of worship. Black flesh melted into black flesh, bones cracked and folded, shapes merged. The Cores screamed in manic delight as their bodies swelled grotesquely, their outlines shifting into something new, something worse.
The sound reached a fever pitch, and then, as quickly as it had come, it started to fade. The cacophony lessened until it was only a distant ringing in his ears. Ashfall lowered his hands cautiously, flexing his sore fingers, and let out a shaky breath.
Whatever they're becoming, I don't want to be here to see it.
He turned to signal Calethia, to catch her eyes and tell her it was time to move. But when his gaze swept across the broken street, she wasn't there.
"Calethia?" His voice came out rough, swallowed by the silence.
He spun around, searching, his heart lurching with something he didn't want to call panic. She had been right next to him. She couldn't have just vanished. But the street was empty. No trace of her cloak, no shadow slipping behind the rubble.
Ashfall's jaw tightened. What the hell...? She disappears the moment the freakshow starts, and I'm left standing here like an idiot. Perfect.
He scanned the wreckage, darting behind the nearest half-wall and peering into the shadows. Nothing. He checked the husk of a collapsed house, then another, but the answer was always the same: gone. Like the ground itself had swallowed her whole.
A cold thought crawled into his mind. Did she ditch me on purpose? Waited for the right distraction, then slipped away with my weapons? Fuck this... why did I have to run into someone like her.
He cursed under his breath. "Fine. Screw it. If she wants to disappear, let her. I'm not sticking around to watch whatever nightmare those things turn into."
He turned and began moving in the opposite direction, ducking low to avoid the sightlines of the Minors that still lingered. Without weapons, without Calethia, every step felt like balancing on a knife's edge.
It didn't take long before the Minors started to stir again. Their grins stretched wide as they shambled through the ruins, laughter bubbling out of their throats in soft, maddening tones. Ashfall pressed himself against a wall, waiting for a cluster of them to pass. When he stepped out again, weaving between shadows, he noticed something strange.
Not all of them were wandering aimlessly. A group of Minors was drifting in one clear direction, toward the remains of a massive structure at the end of the block. Above its entrance, a crumbling sign still clung to the wall, its faded letters half-buried in frost and ice. He could barely make it out, but the shape was familiar; a supermarket.
Ashfall's stomach dropped. The Minors weren't surrounding random rubble; they were converging on that.
If they're circling a building… then someone's inside. Someone alive enough, terrified enough, to draw them in.
He swore again under his breath, his instincts warring. On one hand, getting close to that many Minors without weapons was suicide. On the other, if someone was in there, it meant supplies, maybe weapons. And if he ignored it, he'd always wonder if he had just left another Timer Agent—or something worse—to die.
His lips twisted in a bitter smile. And here I thought I'd stopped caring about people. Guess I'm not as cold as I keep telling myself.
He edged closer, keeping to cover until he reached the frozen façade of the supermarket. The place had been reinforced long ago; its windows were boarded ane gaps sealed. Whoever had used it as shelter hadn't wanted anything to get in or out.
Ashfall crouched near one of the cracks in the boards and pressed his eye to it. At first all he saw was blackness. Then his vision adjusted, and the faint outlines inside became clearer.
What he saw made his blood freeze.
Calethia sat bound to a chair, her arms tied tight, her posture rigid but helpless. Another figure stood behind her, hands gripping her head and forcing her face upward. Through a gaping hole in the roof, the cursed sky was visible. The Stars of Madness shimmered faintly above, their wrongness pouring down like poison light.
The figure was making her look at them.
Ashfall's breath caught in his throat. His first thought was rage, sharp and hot. His second was bitter irony. She had vanished, only for him to find her trapped in the worst situation imaginable.
His fists clenched at his sides. So this is it, huh? The choice. Walk away, save my own skin, live to see another day… or dive straight into hell for someone who stole my weapons, someone who barely trusts me, someone I don't even know if I can trust myself.
He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Damn it, Calethia."
He crouched lower, weighing his options. Without weapons, he'd have nothing but his fists, his wits, and his willingness to do something insane. Was she worth it? Was risking everything—his life, his survival, his one chance at maybe making it through this nightmare—worth saving her?
His gut gave him the answer before his brain could stop it.
Yes.
Because if he walked away, if he left her to be broken by the stars, then he'd be no different from the monsters that had already stolen everything from him.
Ashfall's lips curved into a grim smile. "Guess I already know what kind of bastard I am. The kind who runs headfirst into the fire..."
He leaned closer to the crack, eyes narrowing on the figure forcing Calethia's gaze upward. He didn't know who they were, or what their game was, but one thing was clear. If he was going in there, he'd have to be fast, brutal, and smart enough to make up for the fact that he was completely unarmed.
Ashfall took one last steadying breath, his heartbeat pounding against his ribs.
Is it worth it? he asked himself again.
His grip tightened on the frozen wood, and his jaw set like stone.
"Yeah," he whispered. "Because it's my only choice."