The corpse of the beast lay across the red grass like a toppled fortress. Its blood, luminous and thick as molten glass, seeped into the ground and turned the soil to a pulsing scar. The survivors gathered around in a ragged semicircle, silent and wary.
Lyria was the first to move. She cut a small section of the creature's flesh and placed it into a hollowed rock bowl. "We can heat it over mana flame," she said. "Boil the toxins out, maybe."
Seris arched an eyebrow. "Maybe?"
"You have a better idea?"
Seris crouched beside the carcass, running a finger along its armor plating. The residue that clung to her glove shimmered faintly. "This isn't just bone. It's condensed mana crystal. Harder than steel, but it resonates when I touch it."
Kael watched her closely. "Weapons?"
"Armor, too. If we can shape it."
"Good. Then we build from it."
He turned to the rest of the survivors, most of whom still looked lost between horror and disbelief. "Cut what you can carry. Bones, hide, flesh. We move before dark."
A few hesitated until Daren barked, "You heard him! Move!" The authority in his tone snapped them into motion.
As they worked, Kael took a long look at the landscape again. The silver river wound through the basin like a scar of light, the far side veiled in mist. The gods had called this world their stage, but it felt more like a prison forged from nightmares and beauty alike.
And somewhere, above the roiling clouds, unseen eyes watched every step.
---
By the time the sun—if it could be called that—sank behind the violet mountains, they had gathered enough material to fill several crude sleds. They built fires near the creature's remains, the air thick with the smell of cooking mana-flesh.
Kael sat apart, sharpening a bone blade against a shard of crystal. Sparks of blue light danced off the edge.
Lyria approached, carrying a small bowl. "Try it," she said softly.
Inside was meat—thinly sliced, faintly glowing. "You tested it?" Kael asked.
She nodded. "On myself."
His eyes narrowed. "You—"
"It's fine," she interrupted quickly. "I feel… stronger. The energy burns, but it's not poison."
He studied her face—the faint sheen of sweat, the trembling at her fingertips—but she didn't look in pain. If anything, her gaze was sharper, clearer.
Kael took the bowl and tasted a piece. The flavor was metallic, sharp as lightning. The moment it touched his tongue, power surged through his veins. It was like swallowing sunlight.
The seven marks on his chest flared briefly, then dimmed.
"It works," he muttered.
Seris, sitting nearby, smirked. "Then dinner's served."
---
They ate in silence, the crackle of mana-fire echoing off the hills. Some laughed quietly for the first time since the descent. Others simply stared into the flames, lost in memories of their old worlds.
Kael finished his portion and stood. "Tomorrow, we move north—through the mountain pass. The terrain will shield us. We can build shelter there, maybe a base."
"You're thinking long-term already?" Daren asked.
Kael nodded. "We're not leaving this place soon. The gods won't let us. So we build. We adapt. And when we're strong enough…" He looked up at the sky. "We climb back to them."
A murmur ran through the group. Hope—raw, dangerous hope—took shape.
Seris's eyes gleamed in the firelight. "You really think we can reach the heavens?"
"I think," Kael said quietly, "they're not as far away as they want us to believe."
---
That night, the world changed again.
Kael woke to a deep rumble beneath the ground. The fires flickered. Lyria sat upright beside him, eyes wide. "What was—"
A wave of energy exploded from the corpse of the beast. It tore through the camp like a silent storm, cold and luminous. The mana river glowed brighter, reacting to it. Kael's marks flared, searing pain through his body.
Screams filled the air. Some survivors collapsed, writhing. Others shouted as their weapons disintegrated into motes of light.
Lyria clutched her chest. "Kael! It's changing us!"
Kael forced himself to stand, teeth clenched. The energy wasn't random—it was directed. A pulse from above, descending through the creature, through the land, into them.
The voice that followed was not heard but felt.
> "The First Hunt is complete."
"Thirteen shall endure. The rest shall feed the soil."
Kael's blood froze. Thirteen?
He turned—already too late. All around him, people were collapsing, dissolving into ash that glittered like dust. Only a handful remained—Lyria, Seris, Daren, Lyra, and several others.
He counted quickly. Thirteen.
"No!" Lyra screamed, reaching for a friend who was already fading. Her hands closed on nothing but light.
Kael's vision burned red. "You cowards!" he roared at the sky. "You kill them because you're afraid to face us yourself!"
The clouds above swirled. Distant laughter rolled like thunder.
Seris staggered forward, breathing hard. "What… what was that?"
Lyria knelt, trembling. "A culling," she whispered. "They're forcing evolution. The weak were consumed… their mana given to the survivors."
Kael's hands shook. He could feel the truth of it—the storm of power now raging inside him. But it didn't feel like victory. It felt like desecration.
The gods had turned them into their next experiment.
---
By morning, the land was quiet again. The bodies—what was left of them—had turned to pale crystal dust. The survivors stood together, silent and hollow-eyed.
Kael looked at each of them in turn. Thirteen left from three hundred. The gods had given their "show."
He clenched his fists. "Then we give them another."
Daren frowned. "What do you mean?"
Kael looked toward the mountains. The peaks glowed faintly with blue light, like veins of sleeping giants. "We're building a home," he said. "One they can't control. One that spits in the face of their 'entertainment.'"
Seris tilted her head. "You plan to build a kingdom in a place like this?"
Kael met her eyes. "Not plan. Promise."
---
As the others gathered their things, Kael lingered for a moment, staring at the sky. The laughter had faded, but he could feel the attention still there—watching, waiting, amused.
He whispered, almost to himself, "Keep watching, gods. One day, it'll be you who burns."
Then he turned and walked toward the mountains.
The others followed.
Behind them, the silver river continued to glow, feeding the land with power. Above, the heavens pulsed with distant light—like eyes blinking in anticipation.
The First Hunt was over.
The true war had just begun.