They stayed shallow. Ressa called a break when the fog thickened into a low, luminous tide.
Shelter came in the hollow of a toppled stone rib—part of an old structure like a giant spine. Bram drove stakes. Sive reset a tripline. Elan drew a circle of salt-ash that hissed when the fog touched it.
"No fire," Ressa said. "Light carries."
Rations went around. Nobody spoke unless needed.
Han sat with the tether coil across his lap. The brand on his arm had cooled, but the prompt hadn't left.
[Fragment Detected: Glitch-Step (Tier 1). No Root found. Create Root?]
He could feel it like a pressure behind his eyes.
Ressa watched him a moment. "You're twitchy."
"I'm fine."
"You're not." She nodded toward the wreckage beyond their ring. "Go. Five minutes. Then you're back where I can see you."
Bram muttered, "Don't let the Null wander."
Ressa's stare shut him up.
Han stood, keeping his face blank, and stepped over the salt-ash line. The fog licked his boots, cold and wet. He walked until the camp blurred behind him, then stopped beside a heap of bent metal plates stacked like broken armor.
Only then did he breathe.
The prompt waited, bright and patient.
Han swallowed. "Alright."
He fixed his attention on the answer.
YES.
The Scrap Yards cut to silence.
His vision peeled into Source Code Mode, but deeper than before. The grid wasn't just outside. It threaded through him. He felt his heartbeat as pulses of light. He felt his breath as mechanical ticks. Something cold slid along his spine, searching.
It found the hollow.
The Null wasn't peace. It was absence with edges.
The shard he'd absorbed flared under his skin and surged toward that emptiness.
Pain hit like a spike through the ribs.
Han doubled over, palms on the metal plates. The fog brightened around him as if responding. The plates turned icy under his fingers.
Inside his chest, something split—not flesh, not bone, but the shape of him. The shard pressed in, hunting for an anchor that didn't exist.
So it made one.
He felt a hook bite into his soul.
No sound came out, because the world was still muted. His mouth opened anyway, teeth bared, eyes watering.
Light-lines crawled outward from the hook, carving paths along nerves that had never carried magic. His skin went numb, then burned. His stomach rolled as if gravity had shifted.
A second bite followed, deeper.
In his vision, a root node formed—small, jagged, forced into place. It pulsed unevenly, like a heart learning to beat.
Text flickered, then held:
[Root Created: Glitch Root (Tier 1)]
[Skill Grafted: Glitch-Step (Tier 1)]
[Warning: Root Integrity — LOW]
Sound slammed back in. Han sucked in air like he'd been underwater. He slid down the plates into the glowing haze, shaking, hand pressed to his sternum as if he could keep the new thing from tearing loose.
He didn't feel blessed.
He felt rewritten.
The prompt was gone. In its place: a fractured footprint icon, flickering at the edge of thought. When he pictured movement, the root responded—tight, brittle, hungry.
Han stood slowly and took a normal step.
Nothing.
He tried again, not with muscle but with that new pulse. He pictured his body skipping the space between moments.
The root clenched.
Nausea rose fast.
The world hiccuped.
Han was suddenly two meters away. No stride. No in-between. The air tasted sharp, like torn cloth.
He stumbled, grabbed a rusted beam, and swallowed bile.
It worked.
And it felt like the world hated it.
Heat throbbed in his arm brand. A low sting radiated from the root node, warning him not to spam it like a fool.
Han steadied his breathing, then turned back toward camp.
He returned to chaos.
The salt-ash circle was smeared. The tripline hung snapped. Bram's barrier flared weakly, spider-cracked. Elan's hands shook, trying to build heat without lighting the fog. Sive was on one knee, blood soaking his sleeve.
In front of them, something huge shifted in the haze.
It resembled a wolf only in the broad shape. Its shoulders were too high, spine too long, legs bent the wrong way. Black crystal plates grew from its hide. Violet haze leaked between them. Its eyes were empty sockets full of crawling symbols.
A glitched hunter.
Ressa snapped, "Back! Don't let it into the center!"
Bram slammed his palm out. "Bulwark!"
A barrier snapped up.
The beast hit it with its head.
The barrier shattered like glass. Bram flew back and slammed into stone, limp.
Elan hurled fire. The flames hit, then slid aside, diverted as if the beast refused the damage.
Sive raised his bow with one hand, swearing. "It's phasing—!"
Ressa threw a knife. For a breath it stuck, then blinked out and reappeared in the ground behind the beast.
The hunter turned, slow, and fixed on Sive.
Sive froze. His earlier smirk was gone. His face was young again, terrified.
It lunged.
Han moved.
Glitch-Step tightened in his chest like a fist. Nausea punched up. He aimed for the space between the beast's jaws and Sive's throat and forced the skip.
Hiccup.
Han appeared beside Sive, grabbed his collar, and yanked him backward.
The beast's teeth snapped shut on air close enough to sting Han's cheek with wind. Its head jerked, confused, as if searching for the hit it was owed.
Han dragged Sive behind a slab of stone. His root burned like a hot wire.
Sive stared at him. "You—"
"Shut up and breathe," Han said.
Ressa's eyes met Han's for a heartbeat—sharp, assessing. Then she turned back to the beast. "Elan! Keep it looking at you. Don't stand still!"
The hunter roared, sound layered and wrong. It pivoted toward Han now, symbols crawling faster.
Source Code Mode flickered on, forced by fear. Han saw multiple anchor points, scattered like nails hammered into reality. Not one knot. Many. Stronger glitch, stronger hold.
But he also saw a seam—a junction where those nails fed into one line.
One weak place.
His root throbbed a warning. Integrity low.
Han ignored it.
The beast lunged again, faster. Han waited until he could smell the cold rot of its haze, then Glitch-Stepped toward the seam.
The skip hit like falling through a trapdoor.
For a heartbeat he wasn't anywhere. He was between frames, body smeared into data, soul squeezed thin.
Then he snapped back in, already striking.
His fist slammed into the seam.
The symbols in the sockets stuttered. The plates vibrated. The beast shrieked—this time like something dying.
Its form buckled. Anchor points flared and loosened. Violet haze flashed white.
Ressa sprinted in, blade angled for the same spot.
A claw swept for her.
Han forced a short Glitch-Step and yanked her sideways. The motion tore at him. His vision spotted black.
Ressa's blade plunged into the seam.
The junction ruptured.
The hunter collapsed inward, then burst into drifting fragments that evaporated into fog. Its crystal plates clattered down, turning dull and brittle.
Elan sagged, coughing. Sive leaned against stone, shaking, face wet with something he wouldn't name.
Han swayed. Pain flared in his chest, sharp and deep—his new root protesting, splintering under strain. He pressed a hand to his sternum, breathing through it.
From the dissolving remains, a shard rose—larger than the last, flickering with unstable light. It hovered in front of Han's face, pulsing.
He didn't touch it.
Not with eyes on him.
Behind him, Sive whispered, voice thin. "Null… what are you?"
Han kept staring at the shard.
"Not dead," he said.
The System's cold text flickered at the edge of his sight.
[Fragment Detected: ???]
[Compatibility: UNKNOWN]
Ressa checked Bram first, two fingers to his throat. "Alive."
Bram groaned, eyes glassy. His barrier mark flickered weakly. Elan helped haul him upright with a muttered curse.
Sive sat against the stone rib while Ressa wrapped his bleeding arm. He avoided Han's eyes, then finally blurted, "That was a skill."
Han kept his face blank. "I hit the seam."
Ressa rose and faced Han. "You moved. Twice."
"I don't know what I am," Han said. "I just… did it."
Sive gave a brittle laugh. Ressa cut it off with a glare. "You're breathing because he 'just did it.'"
Then her voice dropped, all edge. "Listen. If the temple learns you can bend the System, they'll chain you. If other crews learn, they'll carve you open. So you don't show that trick unless you must. And when you do, you make it look like luck."
Han didn't argue. "Fine."
Elan glanced toward the fog. "That hunter didn't wander in."
"I know," Ressa said, eyes on the broken arch. "We're leaving. Now."
They retied the tether and moved out, dragging Bram between them. Han fell half a step behind, chest tight, the aftertaste of skipping still sour on his tongue. Pain flared at the center of his chest, sharp enough to make his vision swim. He forced his breathing steady and kept walking. If he slowed, they'd watch him. If they watched, they'd ask. And if they asked, he'd have to choose between lying badly or telling the truth and dying for it. So he swallowed it down, wearing emptiness like armor.
The larger shard hovered near his ribs, pulsing like a second heartbeat.
He waited for a moment when nobody looked.
Then he palmed it.
It sank into his skin, cold at first, then hot. His Glitch Root pulsed once—hungry, hurting, awake.