Lakara stared into the dwindling embers of the communal fire, the last warmth before the true chill of the twin-mooned night settled over Thorn Hollow. The crackle of the dying flames was a stark contrast to the thrumming, organic beat that echoed faintly from the distant valley—the Hybrid Nest. A constant, low pulse of dread that vibrated through the very earth beneath their small, defiant settlement.
Around her, the other Beastkin huddled, their furred ears flattened against their heads, eyes wide and golden reflecting the dying light. They were a shadow of their former selves, fewer with each passing season. The last harvest had been poor, the foraging patrols dwindling. And now, the Nests were bolder, their reach extending further.
Lakara's gaze, however, kept returning to the eastern edge of their palisade, where the gate usually stood ajar for her sister's return. The sky was already streaking violet and pale grey with the approach of dawn.
"She's not back," Lakara murmured, the words feeling heavy and cold. She didn't need to name 'she.' Everyone knew. It was past time.
Old Man Borin, his muzzle grizzled with age, shifted beside her. "Amelle is resourceful, Lakara. She's nimble. She knows these woods better than anyone, save maybe your father. She always returns by dawn." His words were meant to comfort, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.
"This time, she hasn't." Lakara rose, pacing the worn earth within their makeshift palisade. Their 'village' was little more than a collection of hovels carved into the base of three massive, ancient trees, their bioluminescent bark offering scant comfort. The palisade itself was made of salvaged metal scraps, reinforced with hardened resin from the thorn-vines. A desperate defense.
Her younger sister, Amelle. Impulsive, stubborn, and brave to a fault. Too brave. For weeks now, ever since Ohnoki had been taken, Amelle had been obsessed. Lakara's gaze drifted to the empty spot where Ohnoki usually sat, carving intricate symbols into wood. Ohnoki, her little brother, gone three days now. Taken by a scouting hybrid, almost right from the forest's edge. He'd screamed, they'd chased, but the thing was too fast, too strong.
After that, Amelle had clung to the old folklore, the whispers of a "Hidden Lab." A place deep in the mountains, a research facility from before the Calamity, rumored to hold powerful weapons that could "turn the tide." A desperate myth, one that Amelle now chased daily. No one could stop her. At first, they tried, but she'd always sneak out. So, they'd set restrictions: "Return by dawn, Amelle, or the sun will bring dangers we cannot face." The area was usually only moderately dangerous for a skilled scout like her. She would tirelessly circle the same general mountainous area, the one she kept insisting was the location of the old lab, but never seeing it, its entrance swallowed by landslides and tangled foliage. They knew because they had followed her a few times, hoping to deter her.
But this dawn brought no Amelle.
The Clan Elder, a stoic female named Nara, finally spoke, her voice raspy. "She went after a ghost, Lakara. We cannot risk more lives for what is already lost."
Lakara spun on her, her tail lashing, stirring up dust. "Lost? He's not lost, Nara! He's taken! If he was dead, we'd know. The forest would tell us. He's being changed! You think I don't hear the Nest thrumming? You think I haven't seen what they become?" Her voice cracked with grief and fury. "You just... gave up!"
A collective gasp went through the small gathering. Nara's eyes narrowed, but she held her tongue. Lakara was the next in line to lead the hunt, a skilled warrior, but her grief for Ohnoki bordered on recklessness.
"We mourned Ohnoki the moment he was dragged away," Nara said, her tone devoid of warmth. "It is the way. To chase them into the Nest is to invite the same fate for ourselves. For all of us."
"And what of the scouting parties?" another villager, a younger male named Kael, piped up, his ears twitching nervously. "The sentinels are ranging closer every night. We saw one with a metal jaw, just past the Fallen Gate."
Lakara's ears perked. A metal jaw… a Reaper scout. She remembered Amelle whispering about a strange new metal beast she'd seen, one that could "carve through a Reaper like paper." A wild, desperate gleam had been in Amelle's eyes then. She was looking for anything that could help Ohnoki. A cold dread curled in Lakara's stomach.
Lakara shivered despite herself. The stories of the Android Corruption were not just tales to scare pups. They were etched into their very history, taught from cubhood. Mechanical beings, once silent servants, suddenly turning, their eyes blazing red. They didn't just use silent gases that withered flesh; they came with razor-sharp limbs, integrated firearms, and a cold, relentless precision that tore through defenses. The Thorn Hollow Clan had been decimated, driven from their ancestral home. The humans had built walls against them, too, against all Beastkin, accusing them of carrying the sickness that had turned their own creations.
But those corrupted androids, the 'Red Eyes,' had faded with the Calamity itself, destroyed by the chaotic energy storms or simply shutting down. For decades, only broken shells remained. Until now.
The faint hum from the distant Nest grew a fraction louder, a subtle shift in the oppressive soundscape of the valley. Lakara knew what that meant. The Nest was feeding. Growing. Assimilating.
"She went alone, didn't she?" Kael pressed, his voice strained. "To that empty location she keeps saying is an old lab. And now she's not back."
Lakara let out a weary sigh, the sound heavy with resignation. "It's her coping mechanism, Kael. Her way of not sitting idly while Ohnoki is out there. But this time..." Her voice trailed off, the unspoken fear hanging heavy in the air.
The thought of Amelle, her headstrong, impulsive little sister, venturing into that hellish landscape alone, or worse, having found some dangerous relic of the old world, sent a jolt of ice through Lakara's veins.
"We need more traps laid," Borin grumbled, trying to steer the conversation back to practical matters. "And the water filter needs cleaning again. The algae is getting worse."
Lakara ignored them. Her ears were straining, listening for the distinctive light footfalls of her sister, for the familiar scent of her fur. Instead, only the hum of the Nest, the chirps of unseen, predatory creatures, and the cold wind whispering through the palisade.
Amelle, you fool. Why didn't you just wait? Lakara clenched her fists. She had to do something. They had to. If the Nests were getting stronger, if new metal beasts were roaming the wilderness, then sitting here, waiting for death, was no answer.
She looked at Nara, at Borin, at the fearful faces of her clan. They were tired. They were broken. But Lakara wasn't. Not yet.
She strode to the edge of the palisade, peering out into the moon-drenched, twisted forest. "Kael, Borin. Tomorrow, we start scouting closer to the old highway. We need new patrol routes. And more intel on these new sentinels."
Nara cleared her throat. "Lakara, you are not the Elder."
Lakara turned, her golden eyes blazing with a fierce, desperate resolve. "No," she said, her voice low and steady. "But I'm the one who won't let us die waiting for the Nests to come to our doorstep. We fight. Even if it's a lost cause." She thought of Ohnoki, of Amelle. You won't be alone.
The hum of the Nest felt impossibly loud now, a bass drum beating out the rhythm of their impending doom. Lakara ignored it. Her little sister was out there. And she would follow.