Toronto, Ontario – August 25, 2025. 1:40 p.m.
Aisha's POV
The pharmacy back room still stank of antiseptic and old blood. Aisha zipped the last duffel bag—antibiotics, painkillers, two boxes of insulin pens, gauze, tape, a couple of suture kits. Enough to keep Malik stable for weeks if they were careful. Maybe longer.
She glanced at Elias. He was standing near the dead elf's body, not looking at it, just staring at the wall like he was reading something no one else could see. His eyes looked brighter again—deeper purple, almost glowing in the dim light. He hadn't said a word since he closed the elf's eyelids.
She didn't like how quiet he got after fights. It wasn't exhaustion. It was calculation.
Zara was already crawling back out through the gate, dragging one of the bags. She moved fast, efficient, like she'd done this before. Aisha didn't trust that efficiency. Not completely.
Jamal stuck his head under the gate. "We good?"
"Yeah," Aisha said. "Let's move."
She crawled out last. Elias came behind her. He didn't offer a hand. She didn't ask for one.
Outside, the street was empty except for a single mutated pigeon picking at something wet on the sidewalk. No goblins. No elves. No Nightclaw. Just wind and the low hum of distant thunder that never arrived.
They walked in loose formation back toward the factory. No one spoke much. The bags were heavy. The drizzle made everything slick.
Aisha kept glancing at Elias's back. Something had shifted in him since yesterday. Not bigger muscles or anything obvious—just the way he carried himself. Like he was listening to the air itself.
She hated that she noticed.
She hated more that Zara noticed too.
Jamal's POV
Jamal's hands ached from carrying two bags at once. Pipe tucked under his armpit. Eyes scanning every alley, every broken window, every pile of trash that could hide teeth.
He didn't like this group.
He didn't hate them either. They just weren't his people.
Aisha was solid—tough, loyal, kept her shit together for her brother. Kwame was weird but reliable. Talia was a knife in human form. Zara… he didn't know yet. She stuck to Elias like glue, and that made Jamal's skin crawl.
Elias himself?
Jamal didn't know what to make of him.
The guy didn't brag. Didn't lecture. Didn't act like some post-apocalypse messiah. He just did things. Killed when he had to. Healed when he could. Made decisions and expected everyone else to keep up.
That was the part that pissed Jamal off the most.
Elias didn't ask for trust.
He just assumed it would happen eventually.
And the worst part? It kind of was.
Jamal shifted the bags to his other shoulder. Looked at Elias walking ahead.
"You see anything up there?" he asked.
Elias didn't turn.
"Just the usual."
"Usual being?"
"Things watching us. Things waiting."
Jamal snorted. "Great pep talk."
Elias didn't reply.
Typical.
Talia's POV
Talia walked rear guard, box cutter in her right hand, eyes flicking between rooftops and shadows.
She didn't talk much because talking wasted breath.
She watched.
She saw the way Aisha kept looking at Elias—half angry, half worried, half something else. She saw Zara walking close to him, shoulders almost touching, like she was claiming territory. She saw Jamal pretending he didn't care while he watched everyone else's backs more than his own.
She saw Elias.
He moved different now. Not faster exactly. Just… smoother. Like his body knew where every step should land before his brain told it to.
His eyes were the worst part.
They weren't normal purple anymore. Not just color. There was depth. Like looking into dark water and knowing something was moving underneath.
She didn't trust it.
She didn't trust him.
But she also didn't trust anyone else more.
So she kept walking behind him.
That was enough for now.
Malik's POV (inside the factory)
Malik sat on the mattress pile, back against the wall, knees up. Kwame sat nearby, fingers in the dirt, vines slowly creeping along the floor like slow-motion snakes.
The black lines under Malik's skin didn't hurt anymore. They just felt… heavy. Like someone had run extra wires through his body and forgot to turn the power off.
He could feel things.
Pressure changes in the room. The way the air moved when someone breathed. The faint vibration when Kwame's vines grew. The low buzz of Aisha's worry even when she was kilometers away.
He didn't know how he knew it was her worry.
He just did.
Kwame glanced over.
"You okay?"
Malik shrugged. "I can feel her coming back."
Kwame nodded like that made sense.
"She's close," Malik said. "They all are. And something else is following them."
Kwame's vines stilled.
"How far?"
Malik closed his eyes.
"Two blocks. Maybe less."
Kwame stood.
"Get behind me."
Malik didn't argue.
Back on the street – 2:08 p.m.
They were one block from the factory when Elias stopped.
Everyone stopped.
He tilted his head slightly, like he heard something no one else could.
Then he spoke—low, calm.
"Company."
Jamal shifted his grip on the pipe.
"Goblins?"
"No."
Talia's knife was already out.
Zara stepped closer to Elias. Not behind him. Beside him.
Aisha felt her stomach drop.
From the alley ahead, three figures stepped out.
Not elves. Not goblins.
Humans.
Or what used to be humans.
Skin gray-white. Eyes sunken. Veins black and raised like cables under the skin. They moved wrong—too fluid, too deliberate.
Hollowed.
The lead one—male, late thirties, shaved head—spoke.
"You have something that belongs to us."
Elias didn't move.
"Malik isn't yours."
The man smiled. Teeth too sharp.
"We marked him. That makes him ours."
Aisha stepped forward.
"He's my brother."
The Hollowed looked at her.
"Then you can come with him."
Elias spoke before Aisha could answer.
"No one's going anywhere."
The Hollowed leader tilted his head.
"You think you can stop us?"
Elias looked at him.
Then past him.
To the rooftops.
To the shadows.
To the faint violet threads that connected everything.
He saw the currents shift.
Saw intent form into motion.
Saw the attack before it happened.
Two Hollowed lunged from the flanks.
Elias moved.
Not fast like a comic book.
Just fast enough.
He caught the first one's wrist, twisted, broke it. The second he met with an elbow to the jaw—teeth cracked, head snapped back.
The leader didn't move.
Just watched.
Then he spoke again.
"You're interesting."
Elias dropped the two unconscious bodies.
"You're not."
The leader laughed once—short, dry.
"We'll see you again."
He turned.
Walked away.
The other two stayed down.
Elias didn't chase.
He looked at the group.
"Let's go."
No one asked questions.
They just walked.
Faster this time.
Inside the factory – 2:31 p.m.
They pushed through the bay door.
Malik was already standing—shaky, but up.
Kwame's vines had sealed every entrance except the one they used.
Aisha dropped the bags and went straight to her brother.
Malik looked at Elias.
"They were close."
"Yeah."
Malik swallowed.
"I felt them. Before you said anything."
Elias nodded once.
"Good."
Aisha looked between them.
"What now?"
Elias set his bag down.
"Now we rest. We eat. We plan."
He looked around at everyone.
No speeches.
No promises.
Just one sentence.
"We don't run. We don't hide. We hold here until we're ready to move."
Jamal leaned against the wall.
"And when we're ready?"
Elias met his eyes.
"Then we take what we need."
No one argued.
Because no one had a better idea.
(End of Chapter 11)