I sat there for a while—moments that stretched long enough to feel like an eternity, but a peaceful one. I let my skin rest in the warmth of the sun, my eyes drifting across the endless sky above the ribs. For the first time in days, nothing demanded my immediate strength.
Two days.
I'd been unconscious. Vulnerable. Useless. If something had reached us, I wouldn't have been able to lift a finger to stop it. I wouldn't even have known.
Strangely, the thought didn't frighten me.
Because it hadn't just been me anymore.
Sare. Trace. The three of us had been moving together since the beginning of this nightmare, handing our lives back and forth without ceremony, without guarantees—just necessity and action. Trust built under pressure instead of promises.
Normally, I wouldn't allow that.
If I'd had the choice at the start, I would've gone alone. My past had made sure of that. Trust, reliance—those weren't things I gave easily. Depending on someone other than myself had always felt like a liability.
But the obstacles we'd crossed… the fights we'd survived… and the simple fact that they guarded me for two full days while I couldn't even wake—
Something had changed.
How much, I couldn't measure yet.
It didn't mean I trusted people.
It meant I trusted them.
That difference mattered.
The realization settled quietly, and with it came something else—I could think clearly again. My thoughts no longer felt wrapped in fog or pain. The mental exhaustion had eased enough for judgment to return.
My body, however, told a different story.
With clarity came sensation. Every injury announced itself at once—deep, thorough pain I hadn't missed and didn't welcome back. Two days hadn't been enough to heal. Only enough to keep me alive.
My gaze drifted back toward the distant rib.
And the question returned, heavier now, sharper.
How do we kill that thing?
Then, more honestly—
How do we get past it?
Because killing it… still felt impossible.
The relaxing heat of the sun faded beneath the sound of a groan from across the rib.
I looked over and saw Trace stirring, her expression tightening as she slowly woke. I pushed myself up and walked toward her, my steps careful, unhurried. Sare remained at the edge of the rib, eyes fixed on the distance—watching the far span where the hellish Hollow creature still lingered.
I crouched beside Trace.
"How was your sleep?" I asked quietly, keeping my voice soft so I wouldn't startle her. There was a gentleness in my tone that caught even me off guard.
Her eyes opened fully, finding me close beside her. For a moment she just looked at me, orienting herself by sound and presence more than sight.
"It was nice," she said, the words stretching through a sleepy groan.
I laughed under my breath. "Yeah? I can tell."
Her eyes widened slightly and she shot upright. "You're up," she said—almost a whisper, but firm, like she'd been waiting to say it.
"I am," I answered, smiling.
Before I could say anything else, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around me.
"I'm glad," she said softly near my ear.
The hug caught me completely off guard. My body tensed for half a second out of pure surprise—then slowly relaxed. I lifted my arms and returned it, a little awkwardly at first, then more naturally.
"Yeah," I said quietly. "No need to worry."
But even as I said it, I understood why she had. And for once, I didn't feel the urge to pull away from that kind of concern.
After a moment, still caught in the embrace, I spoke quietly.
"How's your exhaustion?"
Trace loosened her hold and stepped back, though her hands lingered on my arms for a second before dropping. "I'm fine," she said. "Almost completely recovered. Those two days were enough to restore my strength."
Her expression shifted slightly. "What about you? Your wounds still aren't healed."
"No," I admitted. "They're not." I rolled one shoulder carefully, testing the stiffness. "But the fatigue—mental and physical—has mostly subsided. I can move better now. I can focus."
That mattered more than anything.
"We should talk to Sare," I continued. "Figure out a plan together for how to get past that creature."
I stood and offered my hand. Trace looked up at me, smiled faintly, and took it. I pulled her to her feet, and we walked across the rib toward Sare.
She was still at the edge, watching the distance with unwavering attention. When we approached, she turned slightly—not surprised, just aware.
"What's the plan?" she asked.
I blinked once. "So you don't have one either?"
"Not exactly," she said calmly. "I trust that whatever you come up with will work, Asher."
That made me pause.
The weight of it settled on my shoulders without warning. Not pressure exactly—but expectation. Confidence. I wasn't used to being handed that so directly.
"I… might have an idea," I said slowly. "But I don't know if it'll work completely. I haven't tested it yet."
Both of them focused on me at once. Not doubting—listening. Waiting.
"Before I try anything," I added, "I need to confirm something. Are you absolutely sure nothing else was moving at night while I was out?"
Trace and Sare glanced at each other briefly.
Then Sare answered, "There is one creature. A giant one. Big enough to tower over the ribs."
I felt my jaw tighten slightly.