Theft

We followed the blood trail north.

It was easy to track, too easy. Dark droplets on moss, smears across tree bark, entire patches of ground stained black where the Morph had stopped to rest or simply bled too much to keep moving.

The trail was fresh. Still wet in places.

Whatever we were hunting, it wasn't far ahead.

I kept my dagger ready, scanning the fog, my heart beating too fast in my chest.

Behind me, Hoshino's footsteps were nearly silent. Elliot moved with the same controlled precision he always did, his short sword drawn, his eyes constantly sweeping our surroundings.

Tomas brought up the rear, his bow creaking every time he shifted his grip.

No one spoke.

We'd been walking for maybe ten minutes when the blood trail curved sharply to the left, disappearing into a gap between two massive, twisted trees.

Elliot raised his fist.

We stopped.

He moved forward slowly, peering through the gap, then looked back and nodded.

Clearing ahead.

We moved through the trees one at a time.

And there it was.

The Morph lay in the center of a small clearing, hunched against a fallen log.

It was the same one from before, I recognized the wounds. Slashes across its arms. The spear still jutting from its side. My dagger buried in its knee.

It was breathing.

I could see its chest rising and falling, slow and labored. The hole in its faceless head opened and closed rhythmically, making that wet grinding sound.

Blood pooled beneath it.

So much blood.

But it was still alive.

Elliot crouched low, gesturing for us to spread out. His movements were precise, deliberate. Silent.

I moved left. Hoshino went right. Tomas stayed back, arrow nocked.

The plan was simple.

Surround it. Strike fast. Kill it before it could react.

Simple.

I crept forward, my boots barely making a sound on the damp earth.

The Morph's head turned slightly.

Like it heard something.

I froze.

It went still.

For three seconds, nothing moved.

Then it stood.

The movement was sudden, violent. It pushed off the log with its too-long arms and straightened to its full height.

Eight feet tall.

Bleeding.

Wounded.

But very much alive.

And it turned toward me.

I couldn't move.

My legs locked. My hands went numb around the dagger.

All I could see was its faceless head, that gaping hole opening and closing, the flesh around it pulling tight like skin stretched over a skull.

Mrs. Rennik.

The thought came unbidden, crashing through my mind like a wave.

Mrs. Rennik collapsing in the street. Her face splitting open. Her spine arching. The sound of bones breaking.

This thing had been human once.

Someone's neighbor. Someone's friend.

Someone's family.

My chest tightened.

I couldn't breathe.

The Morph took a step toward me.

Move, I told myself. Move now.

I couldn't.

"LANE!" Elliot's voice cut through the haze. "FLANK!"

I didn't respond.

The Morph took another step.

Its claws dragged across the ground, leaving deep gouges in the earth.

Then Hoshino moved.

She came from the right, fast and low, her dagger flashing as she drove it toward the Morph's exposed side.

The Morph spun faster than it should have been able to.

Its arm whipped out.

Hoshino saw it coming and tried to dodge, but she was too close, moving too fast.

The claws caught her across the ribs.

She flew backward and hit the ground hard, gasping.

Blood bloomed across her shirt.

"HOSHINO!" I screamed.

The sound of my own voice snapped me back.

The fog lifted.

The paralysis broke.

I moved.

The Morph turned toward Hoshino, raising its claws for another strike.

She was trying to stand, one hand pressed against her side, her face twisted in pain.

Tomas was behind her, frozen, his bow drawn but shaking so hard the arrow wobbled.

"TOMAS, SHOOT IT!" Elliot shouted.

Tomas didn't move.

The Morph stepped toward Hoshino.

And Hoshino did something I didn't expect.

She stepped forward.

Between the Morph and Tomas.

Her dagger raised.

Her legs shaking.

Blood dripping from her side.

"Not him," she said through gritted teeth.

The Morph lunged.

Elliot intercepted it.

He came in from the side, his short sword driving into the Morph's already-wounded ribs. The blade sank deep.

The Morph shrieked and spun, backhanding Elliot.

He rolled with the impact, came up on his feet, and immediately moved back in.

"LANE!" he shouted. "NOW!"

I didn't think.

I just ran.

Pure rage.

Pure adrenaline.

I circled wide, staying low, and drove my dagger into the Morph's back, right between its shoulder blades.

The blade sank in to the hilt.

The Morph staggered.

Elliot struck again, his sword opening another wound across its chest.

Hoshino lunged forward despite her injury, slashing at its leg.

The Morph's movements were slowing. It tried to turn, tried to strike back, but it was losing too much blood.

Too many wounds.

Too much damage.

"ITS CORE!" Hoshino shouted. "AIM FOR THE CHEST!"

I ripped my dagger free and moved in again.

The Morph swung at me, claws slicing through the air.

I ducked under it and drove my blade into its chest.

Once.

Twice.

The Morph's legs gave out.

It dropped to its knees.

I raised my dagger again.

"WAIT!" Elliot's voice cut through the chaos. "We need the core intact!"

I froze, blade raised.

The Morph was dying. I could see it. Its movements were weak. Its breathing shallow.

But it wasn't dead yet.

"If we destroy the core, we get nothing," Elliot said, breathing hard. "We need to extract it."

I stared at him.

Then at the Morph.

It was still moving. Still dangerous.

But Elliot was right.

We needed that core.

"Hold it down," I said.

It took all four of us.

Elliot and I pinned its arms. Hoshino, bleeding, gasping, held one leg. Tomas finally moved, dropping his bow and grabbing the other leg.

The Morph thrashed weakly.

But it was dying.

We just had to wait.

It took three minutes.

Three long, horrible minutes of watching it struggle and wheeze and slowly go still.

When it finally stopped moving, none of us let go immediately.

We waited.

Made sure.

Then, slowly, we released it.

The Morph lay motionless in the dirt, its chest no longer rising.

Dead.

I'd killed it.

We'd killed it.

My hands were shaking.

"We need to extract the core," Elliot said quietly. "Before it degrades."

I looked at him. "How?"

"Cut into the chest. Find the heart. It'll be glowing."

He said it like it was simple.

Like we weren't about to carve open something that used to be human.

"I'll do it," Elliot said.

I shook my head. "We'll do it together."

The extraction was worse than I'd imagined.

Elliot made the first cut, a long, deep incision down the center of the Morph's chest.

The flesh split easily.

Too easily.

It didn't look like skin. It looked like something halfway between leather and raw meat, slick and gray and wrong.

Blood welled up, thick and dark.

I reached in.

The inside of the Morph was hot. Wet. The organs didn't feel right, too soft in some places, too hard in others, like they'd started changing into something else.

I felt my stomach turn.

"There," Elliot said, pointing.

Deep in the chest cavity, nestled between the ribs, something glowed.

Blue.

Pulsing.

The core.

It was the size of a fist, smooth and organic, shaped vaguely like a heart but wrong, too many chambers, veins that glowed faintly beneath translucent skin.

It pulsed in rhythm with nothing.

Just... pulsed.

"We need to cut it free," Elliot said.

I nodded.

Together, we reached in.

The core was cold.

Shockingly cold.

Like holding ice.

I cut the veins connecting it to the surrounding tissue. They were thick, fibrous, harder to sever than I expected.

Elliot broke the ribs with his bare hands, sharp cracks that echoed through the clearing.

The core came free.

It pulsed once in my hands.

Then went still.

Just glowing.

Cold.

Alive.

I stared at it.

This thing would give us power.

This thing had been inside something that used to be human.

My stomach lurched.

I stumbled away from the corpse, dropped to my knees, and vomited.

I heard footsteps behind me.

Hoshino's voice, quiet. "Lane?"

I wiped my mouth, gasping.

"I'm fine," I managed.

"You're not."

I looked up at her. She was holding her side, blood seeping through her fingers, her face pale.

And she was checking on me.

"Neither are you," I said.

She smiled weakly. "We're a mess."

I almost laughed.

Almost.

Behind us, Elliot was cleaning his blade. Tomas stood a few feet away, staring at the Morph's corpse.

No one said anything.

We'd done it.

We'd killed a Morph.

We had a core.

And I felt nothing but cold.

We moved to a safer location before discussing the core, deeper into the forest, away from the corpse, away from the smell.

We found a cluster of ruins, three walls still standing, and collapsed inside.

Hoshino sat down hard, her hand still pressed against her ribs. The bleeding had slowed, but the wound looked bad.

Elliot crouched beside her. "Let me see."

She hesitated, then lifted her hand.

The claws had torn through her shirt and into her side, three parallel gashes, deep but not fatal.

Elliot pulled out the first aid kit from his pack and started cleaning the wounds.

Hoshino hissed through her teeth but didn't pull away.

I sat across from them, the core resting in my lap.

It was still cold.

Still pulsing.

Tomas stood near the entrance, his bow in hand, watching the fog like he expected something to come charging through at any second.

"We need to decide," Elliot said, wrapping bandages around Hoshino's ribs. "Who takes the core."

Silence.

Then Hoshino spoke. "Lane killed it. She should take it."

"No," Elliot said. "Strongest should take it. That's me."

"We should all wait," I said quietly.

They both looked at me.

"They told us not to use the power immediately," I said. "Our bodies need time to absorb the energy. If we use it too soon, we risk overload."

"And mutation," Elliot added.

Tomas turned from the entrance. "So... what do we do?"

"We wait," I said. "We keep the core. When we're ready, when we know it's safe, then someone takes it."

Elliot considered this. Then nodded. "Agreed."

"Who holds it?" Hoshino asked.

I looked at the core in my hands.

Then at Hoshino.

"You," I said. "Keep it in your pack."

She blinked. "Why me?"

"Because I trust you."

Her eyes widened slightly.

Then she nodded and held out her hand.

I placed the core in her palm.

She stared at it for a moment, then carefully tucked it into her pack.

"We should rest," Elliot said. "It's getting dark."

I looked up.

He was right. The pale daylight filtering through the fog was fading.

Night was coming.

And we were exhausted.

We set up camp in the ruins as darkness settled over the forest.

No fire this time — too risky. The light would draw attention, and we'd already seen enough Morphs for one day.

We ate in silence. The rations they'd given us were bland, tasteless protein bars that stuck in my throat and sat heavy in my stomach. I forced myself to chew and swallow, knowing I needed the energy even if my body didn't want it.

Hoshino sat against the wall, one hand pressed carefully against her bandaged ribs. Every breath looked painful. Every movement made her wince.

"You should sleep," I told her.

"So should you."

"I will. After my watch."

Elliot was checking his sword, running his fingers along the blade, testing the edge. He looked up. "Watch rotation. Lane first, then me, then Tomas. Two hours each."

Tomas nodded quickly from his corner. He'd barely spoken since the fight. Just sat there, staring at his hands, his bow lying forgotten beside him.

"Tomas," Elliot said. His voice was firm. "You'll take third watch. Can you handle that?"

Tomas looked up, his eyes wide. "Yeah. Yes. I can do that."

Elliot held his gaze for a moment, then nodded.

But I saw the doubt in his expression.

The same doubt I felt.

Elliot lay down near the entrance, his sword within arm's reach. He closed his eyes, but I could tell from the tension in his shoulders that he wasn't relaxed.

Hoshino settled onto her side, moving carefully to avoid putting pressure on her injury. She pulled her pack close — the one with the core inside — and used it as a pillow.

"Wake me if you need anything," she murmured, her eyes already closing.

"I will."

Tomas stayed in his corner, wrapped in his own arms, staring at nothing. Then, quietly, he spoke.

"Hey, Lane."

I looked over.

He was still staring at the wall, not at me. His bow lay across his knees, his fingers moving over the string in a small, repetitive motion like he was counting something.

"That thing you said earlier. About not dying alone." He paused. "Hoshino said it. But you meant it too, right?"

I frowned. "Yeah."

He nodded slowly, like I'd confirmed something he'd already decided. "Good. That's good." Another pause. "My sister used to say something like that. That dying alone was the worst way to go. Worse than the dying itself."

I waited for more.

But he just went quiet again, his fingers still moving over the bowstring.

"Get some sleep, Tomas," I said.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, okay."

He didn't.

I should have asked about the sister. Should have asked why he was bringing her up now, in the dark, the night after we'd nearly died. Should have pulled on that thread and seen where it led.

Instead I moved to the entrance, settled against the cold stone wall, and gripped my dagger.

I let it go.

I was good at that.

The ruins opened onto darkness. Thick fog rolled past like something alive, and beyond it, the forest waited — full of sounds I couldn't identify and movements I couldn't see.

I forced myself to stay alert. To watch. To listen.

The hours dragged.

My body ached. My eyes burned from staring into the darkness. Every shadow looked like a Morph. Every sound made my heart jump.

But nothing came.

The forest was quiet. Too quiet.

When enough time had passed, I stood carefully and crossed to where Elliot lay.

"Elliot," I whispered.

His eyes opened immediately. Fully alert.

"Your turn," I said.

He sat up without a word, grabbed his sword, and moved to the entrance. I took his place near the wall, pulling my jacket tighter against the cold.

I closed my eyes.

This time, sleep came easier.

The scream ripped me from darkness.

High-pitched. Desperate. Cutting through the fog like a blade.

I jerked awake, my hand already reaching for my dagger.

Across the ruins, Hoshino sat up with a gasp, her hand going to her injured ribs. Elliot was already on his feet at the entrance, sword drawn.

"What was that?" Hoshino whispered, her voice tight with fear.

Another scream. Closer this time.

Then silence.

Sudden and complete.

I scrambled to my feet, dagger in hand, and moved toward the entrance. Hoshino followed, moving carefully despite her injury.

We crowded at the doorway, peering into the darkness.

The fog was thick, but I could see movement through it.

Something large. Hunched. Moving with that jerking, unnatural gait I'd come to recognize.

A Morph.

And it was dragging something.

Someone.

I could see arms flailing weakly against the ground. Legs kicking. A human shape being pulled across the clearing just beyond our ruins.

The person was still struggling. Still alive.

"We have to—" Hoshino started.

"No," Elliot said sharply. His hand shot out, blocking the entrance. "We don't."

"But—"

"Look at it," Elliot said, his voice low and controlled. "Look at the size. That's not the one we killed. That's bigger. Stronger."

He was right.

This Morph was massive — easily nine feet tall, its arms thick as tree trunks.

"By the time we reach them, they'll be dead," Elliot continued. "And we'll be next."

The struggling was growing weaker.

I should have argued. Should have insisted we try.

But I just stood there, watching.

The Morph dragged its victim deeper into the fog.

The struggling stopped.

The Morph disappeared into the darkness.

Gone.

We stood in the entrance, breathing hard, staring at the spot where they'd vanished.

No one moved.

No one spoke.

Someone had just died within sight of our camp.

And we'd done nothing.

"We should—" Hoshino's voice cracked. She stopped. Started again. "We should get back inside."

Elliot nodded and stepped back from the entrance.

We filed back into the ruins, silent and shaken.

I sat down against the wall, my hands still trembling around my dagger.

Hoshino settled back onto her side, her face pale in the darkness.

Elliot moved to return to his watch position—

Then stopped.

His eyes swept the ruins.

"Where's Tomas?"

The question hung in the air.

I looked toward the corner where Tomas had been sitting before I'd fallen asleep.

Empty.

His pack was gone. His bow was gone.

He was gone.

"He was on watch," Elliot said slowly. His voice was carefully controlled. "He should have been at the entrance."

My stomach dropped.

"Check the core," Elliot said.

The words hit me like ice water.

I moved to where Hoshino's pack lay, still tucked where she'd been using it as a pillow.

My hands were shaking as I opened it.

Reached inside.

Fabric. Rations. Water canteen.

But no core.

Nothing cold. Nothing glowing.

Empty.

"No," I whispered.

Elliot was beside me in two steps. He looked into the pack himself, as if I might have missed it.

But there was nothing.

"He took it," Elliot said quietly. "He stole it and ran."

I stared at the empty pack.

While we were sleeping. While we were vulnerable. While that person was being dragged away screaming.

Tomas had been stealing our core.

We'd trusted him. Let him join. Given him a chance.

And he'd waited for the perfect moment — when we were all asleep, when there was chaos outside — and taken everything.

Hoshino was staring at the empty pack, her face white, her hands starting to shake.

"No," she whispered. "No, I— I had it right there. I should have—"

Her voice broke.

Tears started sliding down her face.

"I'm sorry," she choked out. "I'm so sorry. You trusted me with it, and I—"

"It's not your fault," I said quickly, moving to her side.

But she wasn't listening.

"I should have kept it safer," she said, her voice cracking. "I should have been more careful. I ruined everything. I—"

"Hoshino, stop." I grabbed her shoulders. "Tomas planned this. He waited until we were all asleep. There was nothing you could have done."

But she just shook her head, tears streaming down her face, her whole body shaking.

Elliot stood and grabbed his sword from where it leaned against the wall.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

He stopped.

Didn't turn around.

For a long moment, he just stood there, his back to us, his shoulders tense.

"I can't do this," he said finally. His voice was quiet. Tired.

"Elliot—"

"I thought we could work together." He still didn't turn around. "I thought if we were smart, if we planned carefully, we could all survive. But I was wrong."

"We didn't know he would—"

"I should have known." He cut me off. "I saw the signs. The way he froze during the fight. The way he looked at the core. I knew he was a risk, and I ignored it."

He finally turned to face us.

His expression was closed off. Distant.

"This is why I work alone," he said.

"Elliot, don't—" Hoshino started, wiping at her tears.

"I'm not dying for people I can't trust," he said. Not cruel. Not angry. Just... matter-of-fact. Like he'd already made the decision and was simply explaining it. "You two should stay together. You trust each other. That's good. You'll have a better chance."

"And you?" I asked. My throat felt tight.

"I'll be fine."

He adjusted his pack. Checked his sword.

Then he looked at us one more time.

At Hoshino, still crying, her hand pressed against her bandaged ribs.

At me, standing there with an empty pack in my hands.

Something flickered across his face. Regret, maybe. Or guilt.

But it passed quickly.

"Good luck," he said.

"Good luck," he said.

Then he turned and walked out into the fog.

Hoshino stood, wincing at the pain. "Elliot, wait—"

But he was already gone.

Swallowed by the mist.

We stood there in the ruins.

Just the two of us.

Alone.

I stood very still and watched the place where he'd disappeared.

The anger was there. Of course it was. We'd trusted him, worked with him, fought beside him, and the moment things fell apart he'd made his calculation and walked away.

But underneath the anger was something more uncomfortable.

Recognition.

Because I knew that calculation. I'd been running versions of it since the moment I entered this forest. Every decision filtered through the same quiet question — what does this cost me, what does this buy me, is this worth the risk. I'd been doing it with Tomas from the beginning, with Elliot, with Cara's group, with every stranger we'd encountered.

The difference between me and Elliot, right now, was that I hadn't walked out yet.

But I understood why he did.

And I didn't know if understanding it made me better than him or just more honest about what we both were.

"We don't need him," I said.

My voice came out steadier than I felt.

"We don't need him," I said after a long silence.

Hoshino looked at me, her eyes red.

"Lane—"

"We don't," I said firmly. "We're strong enough. We've survived this long. We'll keep surviving."

"But—"

"We can do this, Hoshino. Just us."

She stared at me for a long moment.

Then she nodded slowly.

"Okay," she whispered. "Just us."

I held out my hand.

She took it.

We traveled for hours.

No plan. No destination.

Just moving.

The fog was thicker now. The forest darker.

Hoshino's injury was slowing her down. I could see her wincing with every step, her hand pressed against her side.

"We should rest," I said.

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

She looked at me. "If we stop, I won't get back up."

So we kept moving.

We found Rune by accident.

He was sitting on a fallen log, his sword resting across his lap, looking completely at ease.

Like he was on a casual hike instead of fighting for his life.

He saw us before we saw him.

"Well, well," he said, smiling. "Look who's still alive."

I stopped walking.

Hoshino stopped beside me.

Rune stood slowly, his eyes sweeping over us.

Over our injuries. Our exhaustion.

"Where's your third?" he asked. "The tall one. Fosse."

"Gone," I said flatly.

"Gone?" Rune's smile widened. "Let me guess. Couldn't handle the pressure?"

"Something like that."

He laughed. "I told you. Teams don't work. People are selfish. They'll leave you the second things get hard."

I didn't respond.

Hoshino shifted beside me, her hand tightening on her dagger.

Rune noticed. "Relax. I'm not going to kill you."

"Generous," I muttered.

"I'm just saying." He shrugged. "You two look like you're barely holding it together. And now you're alone. How long do you think you'll last?"

"Long enough," I said.

He studied me for a moment.

Then he laughed again.

"Sure. Good luck with that."

He turned and started walking away.

"Rune," I called after him.

He stopped.

Looked back.

"Did you get a core?" I asked.

He smiled.

Reached into his pack.

Pulled out a glowing blue core.

Just like ours.

"Got mine this morning," he said. "Killed a Morph solo. No team. No help."

He tucked it back into his pack.

"See you at the beacon, Daniels. If you make it."

He walked away.

Disappeared into the fog.

Hoshino exhaled slowly. "I hate him."

"Yeah," I said. "Me too."

We kept walking.

My legs burned. My hands ached.

Hoshino was barely staying upright.

And then—

Light.

Faint at first. Blue. Pulsing.

I stopped.

Hoshino stopped beside me.

"Do you see that?" she whispered.

I nodded.

We moved toward it.

The fog parted.

And there, rising from the center of a clearing, was a beam of light.

Blue.

Brilliant.

Reaching up into the sky.

The Extraction Beacon.

Day three.

It had appeared.

I stared at it.

Hoshino grabbed my arm. "We made it."

I looked at her.

At her pale face. Her bloodied clothes. Her exhausted eyes.

We'd survived.

Three days.

No core.

No power.

But we'd survived.

"Yeah," I said quietly. "We made it."