Arty moved before the thought fully formed, the decision already made somewhere beneath logic, carried on the same quiet pressure that had been building since the first crystal slid into his pocket.
The deeper part of the shed waited in shadow, rows of steel and machinery creating a maze that could hide anything from nothing to too many.
"One more," he repeated, though it no longer sounded like a choice.
Leah didn't like it. He could see that in the way her shoulders set and the way her eyes flicked toward the entrance again, tracking the movement that was slowly closing in from outside.
"We don't have time to go hunting," she said.
"We don't have time not to," Arty replied, already stepping forward.
He didn't look back to see if she followed. He knew she would.
The air felt heavier the further he went in, the light thinning as the last of the sun fell away behind the building.
The emergency strips along the walls buzzed and flickered, leaving pockets of darkness that seemed to shift even when nothing inside them did.
His boots sounded louder here, the echo bouncing off metal and concrete in a way that made it harder to separate his own movement from anything else.
That mattered.
He slowed slightly.
Listened.
A faint scrape answered him from somewhere ahead.
Not random.
Moving.
He adjusted his grip on the wrench and angled toward the sound, threading between two racks of steel plate and a welding bench scattered with tools that had been dropped mid-task.
A mask lay on the floor, a glove, weld beads that ran half-finished along a joint that would never be completed.
The scrape came again, closer this time, he stepped around the edge of a large fabrication table and saw it.
A man in work gear, one boot missing, the other dragging, his movements slower than the others had been but no less focused once his head lifted and locked onto Arty's position.
"Alright," Arty said quietly, almost conversational. "Let's see if this matters."
The thing came forward.
Arty met it.
The first strike landed clean, snapping the head sideways but not dropping it completely.
He adjusted without thinking, stepping in and finishing it with a second blow that sent the body collapsing against the table before sliding to the floor.
Five.
He crouched immediately.
The motion was faster now, oddly familiar, more efficient.
His fingers found the fracture point, pulled, and the crystal came free into his hand with a wet, brittle resistance that barely registered anymore.
The moment it left the skull, something changed.
Not a little.
Not subtle.
It hit him like a shift in pressure behind his eyes, like the air itself had compressed and released at the same time.
His breath caught for half a second as the world around him seemed to tighten into focus, edges sharpening, sound pulling inward.
"What—" he started.
The word didn't finish.
A pulse moved through him.
Not physical.
Not entirely.
It started somewhere behind his chest, spread outward, then snapped inward again as if something unseen had taken a breath through him instead of him taking one himself.
His vision flickered.
Not darkness.
Overlay.
For the briefest instant, something sat across his sight that hadn't been there before.
Lines.
Numbers.
Nothing he could fully read before it vanished again.
Arty blinked hard.
The shed returned.
Same space.
Same danger.
Different feeling.
Leah's voice cut through the moment. "Arty!"
He turned.
She stood ten metres back, the tyre iron raised, her attention locked past him.
Another one.
He pivoted just as the next zombie came out from behind a stack of pipe, this one faster than the last, more direct, its movement snapping into a line that felt more intentional than anything he'd seen so far.
He reacted without thinking.
The wrench came up.
Strike.
Clean.
Faster than before.
The impact landed and the body dropped almost instantly, as if the timing had aligned perfectly with the moment.
Six.
He didn't hesitate.
Crouch.
Pull.
The crystal slid free.
The pressure surged again.
This time it didn't fade as quickly.
It stayed.
Not overwhelming.
Not painful.
Just… present.
Like something had switched on and was waiting.
Arty stood slowly, his breathing steadying in a way that didn't quite match the situation.
"What is happening?" Leah asked, stepping closer now, her eyes flicking between him and the bodies.
"I don't know," he said, though the answer felt closer than it had before. "But it's not nothing."
A sound echoed from the entrance.
More than one.
Leah's head snapped toward it. "We need to go. Now."
Arty nodded once.
He knew that.
He also knew something else.
"Two more," he said.
Leah stared at him. "Are you serious?"
He didn't answer immediately.
His hand brushed his pocket again.
Six.
The number sat there.
Incomplete.
He didn't know how he knew that.
He just did.
"Two more," he repeated.
Leah swore under her breath. "You're pushing it."
"I know."
"You're going to get us killed."
"Not if this works."
"You don't even know what 'this' is."
"No," he said quietly. "But I know it matters."
That was the truth.
Raw.
Uncomfortable.
Unavoidable.
Another crash from outside.
Closer.
They were coming through the yard now.
Time was collapsing again.
Leah held his gaze for one more second, then exhaled sharply.
"Two," she said. "Then we're gone. No argument."
"Deal."
Arty turned deeper into the shed.
The pressure guided him now.
Not literally.
Not like a voice.
More like a pull, a subtle alignment of attention that made certain directions feel more correct than others.
He followed it.
Past another workbench.
Around a stack of sheet metal.
Toward a darker section near the back wall where the emergency lights had fully failed.
The air felt different there.
Still.
Thick.
He slowed again.
Listened.
Nothing.
Then—
Movement.
Fast.
Closer than expected.
The zombie came from the right, emerging from the shadow with a suddenness that almost caught him off guard.
Its movement was sharper than the others, more aggressive, as if something about it had changed beyond simple decay.
Arty reacted on instinct.
The wrench came up just in time.
The strike connected, but not perfectly.
The thing staggered, recovered, came again.
"Not this time," he muttered.
He stepped in harder, adjusting his angle, and drove the second strike with enough force to end it properly.
Seven.
His breath steadied immediately.
The motion followed.
Crouch.
Pull.
Crystal.
The moment it came free, the pressure surged again, stronger now, pushing against the edges of his awareness like something trying to break through.
The flicker returned.
Longer this time.
Shapes.
Text.
Unreadable.
Then gone.
He stood slowly, his focus tightening.
"One more," he said.
Leah didn't argue.
She didn't like it.
He could see that.
But she didn't argue.
The final one came from behind them.
From the direction of the entrance.
Drawn in and closing the gap.
Arty turned as it entered the space between the racks, its movement direct, fast enough now that the difference was impossible to ignore.
"They're changing," Leah said.
"Yeah," Arty replied.
The thing lunged.
He met it.
This time the strike was perfect.
No adjustment.
No correction.
Just clean impact and immediate drop.
Eight.
He crouched.
Pulled.
Crystal.
The world snapped.
For a fraction of a second, everything aligned.
The pressure peaked.
Then—
Something clicked.
Not a sound.
Not a physical shift.
A change.
Internal.
External.
Both.
Arty froze.
His breath caught.
The space around him seemed to sharpen, every detail pulling into focus as if the world had just been rendered properly for the first time.
The flicker returned.
Clearer.
Still incomplete.
But there.
He blinked.
It didn't fully disappear this time.
It lingered at the edge of perception, like a reflection he couldn't quite look at directly.
"What is that?" Leah whispered.
Arty didn't answer immediately.
Because for the first time, he felt like he was standing on the edge of something real.
Not survival.
Not reaction.
Something else.
Arty didn't answer immediately.
Because for the first time, he felt like he was standing on the edge of something real.
Not survival.
Not reaction.
Something else.
The flicker didn't disappear this time.
It stayed.
Faint.
Unreadable.
But there.
And then—
It changed.
The shapes shifted, pulling into something almost structured, almost understandable, like a reflection trying to become real if he just focused hard enough to see it.
His breath slowed.
The world narrowed.
And for a split second—
He understood that whatever this was…
It had been waiting for him to reach this point.
"Arty—" Leah started.
A crash tore through the entrance behind them.
Not one.
Not two.
More.
Closer than before.
Too fast.
Arty didn't look away from the thing hovering at the edge of his vision.
Because now—
He knew.
This wasn't the beginning.
It was a threshold.
And he had just crossed it.