Klein took a heavy breath, his chest tightening as the cold tip of Roland's sword hovered inches from his throat, his pulse raced, each beat echoing in his ears like a drum. The faint *crackle* of the dying campfire filled the silence, its flame sputtering as if sensing the tension in the air. His eyes darted from the blade to Lina, who sat motionless in the corner, her expression as blank and unreadable as ever. She hadn't moved since Klein had fallen asleep earlier, her stillness almost unnerving. The air was thick with tension, carrying the scent of damp earth and oiled steel, mingling with the faint metallic tang of fear.
"You could've warned me," Klein said, his voice low but edged with frustration. His palms were slick with sweat, and he fought the urge to wipe them on his pants. He needed to stay calm, to think, to assess the situation.
"You were asleep," Lina replied flatly, her tone devoid of any apology. Her gaze remained fixed on the ground, as if the unfolding confrontation was beneath her notice. There was no flicker of concern, no hint of emotion—just that same detached calm that Klein had come to expect from her. It was as if the world around her didn't exist.
"Yeah, but still—" Klein cut himself off with a sigh, muttering under his breath, "Definitely going to work on communication." He shifted his attention back to Roland, whose brass-colored eyes burned with an intensity that made Klein's skin crawl. "Look, I know we just met, but we don't have anything worth stealing. You're wasting your time."
Roland's expression darkened, his grip on the sword hilt tightening until his knuckles turned ghostly white against his tanned skin. Something about the man's demeanor sent a chill down Klein's spine. This wasn't the posture of a thief—it was something far more dangerous. "Shut up!" Roland ordered his voice, usually steady and commanding, now carried a faint tremor, betraying the weight of whatever he feared.
Klein's gaze flicked to the others. Garrett stood to Roland's left, his bow drawn taut, the string humming faintly under the tension. The arrowhead glinted in the dim light, its sharp edge catching the flicker of the fire. His eyes never left Klein, sharp and calculating. Garrett's jaw was clenched, his usual dry humor absent, replaced by a grim determination. Klein had seen that look before—on men who had faced horrors and survived, but only just.
To Roland's right, Elias held his sword steady, the tip aimed squarely at Klein's chest. The faint *shink* of steel against leather echoed as he adjusted his grip. Elias was the youngest of the group, his face still carrying the softness of youth, but his eyes were hard, like he'd been forced to grow up too fast. The group moved with a practiced precision that spoke of years of working together, their boots scraping softly against the dirt ground.
"Wait," Klein said, his voice rising slightly. "What's going on here?" His mind raced, trying to piece together the situation. Roland's reaction was all wrong. This wasn't about theft—it was something deeper, something darker.
Roland's face flushed red, his jaw tightening as he barked, "You think this is a game?"
Before Klein could respond, a voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Don't speak to it, Roland." Selene stepped into view, her wand in one hand and a rolled parchment in the other. Her presence was commanding, but the hint of fear lingered beneath the surface. She unrolled the scroll with a sharp *flick*, the parchment rustling as the intricate runes etched into it began to glow with an eerie blue light.
"It?" Klein repeated, the word echoing in his mind. His stomach churned as the pieces began to fall into place. They thought he was one of them. One of those… things. The memory of Lancer flashed in his mind—the twisted form, the wrongness of it all. Lancer's eyes, once human, had been hollowed out, replaced by a swirling void that seemed to pull Klein in, threatening to consume him. His heart pounded as he realized what they thought he was. "What are you talking about?" he blurted, his voice harsher than he intended.
Roland took a slight step back, his boots crunching softly against the dirt. His eyes narrowed. "Hold your ground, Roland," Selene commanded, her voice sharp but with a faint quiver. "I have a binding sigil designed to trap night creatures." She raised the scroll, the runes glowing brighter as she began to chant under her breath. Her hand trembled slightly, the faint *clink* of her bracelet betraying her confidence.
"If it gets out, it will wipe out the whole camp," Selene whispered, her voice barely audible but laced with dread. "Just don't let it escape before then!" she shouted, prompting Garrett and Elias to step forward, their weapons at the ready. The *rustle* of their clothes and the soft *thud* of their boots filled the camp.
Klein exhaled sharply, his mind racing. He glanced at Lina, who remained eerily calm, her expression unreadable. "Lina, what should we do?" he asked, his voice low but urgent.
"We could kill them," Lina replied bluntly, her tone as casual as if she were discussing the weather.
The camp erupted into chaos. "No! No!" Klein shouted, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "No one has to die. Just tell me what's going on!" He turned to Selene, his voice steady despite the panic clawing at his chest. "Selene, please."
"No!" she screamed, her voice cracking with desperation. The sigil's light flared to a blinding intensity as she hurled the scroll to the ground. It landed just inches from Klein with a soft thud, and in an instant, a massive circle of light erupted around the tent. Intricate runes snaked through the dirt, their glow accompanied by a low, resonant hum that vibrated in Klein's chest. The barrier rose like a wall of fire, its heat radiating outward, trapping Klein and Lina inside.
The group collectively exhaled, their relief palpable. "What?" Klein demanded, his voice rising. He stepped forward, rising to his full height, his boots crunching against the dirt as he examined the barrier. The runes pulsed with a rhythmic glow, their patterns shifting, the crackle of energy filling the air.
"It's no use," Selene said, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "I designed that sigil specifically to capture humanoid night creatures. You're not getting out."
"That's right," Selene continued, lowering herself to one knee, her strength waning. "Valdris is trying to cover it up, but people know." She took a few deep breaths, her shoulders heaving. "Night creatures that look human and use that to join parties before killing them."
Klein's lips curled into a faint smile as he stepped closer to the barrier. He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering just above the glowing wall. The air around it crackled with energy, and he could feel the heat radiating from it, warming his skin. He glanced at the group, their faces a mix of fear and triumph.
With a deep breath, he stepped through the barrier. The light warped and bent around him, flickering uncertainly as if it couldn't decide whether he was real or not. The *hiss* of energy parting around him filled the air, and the group froze, their eyes widening in shock. Lina followed suit, her movements as fluid and effortless as his, the barrier yielding without a sound.
"You see," Klein said, his voice calm but firm, "I'm not a night creature."
Roland and his men tensed, their weapons trembling in their hands as they instinctively closed ranks. Selene's face paled, her mind racing to make sense of the impossible. "No, no, no, that's impossible!" she stammered. "That picture—it's from the Aegus era! It's over 250 years old! You must have stolen it from the ruins of Falkridge!"
Klein shook his head, "I didn't steal anything." He glanced back at Lina, hoping for some kind of guidance, but she was staring blankly off into the forest, her expression as unreadable as ever. He had planned to ask her for advice, but the memory of her blunt, unhelpful responses quickly dashed that idea. No, asking her would probably just make things worse, he thought.
Instead, a new idea formed in his mind. Selene had studied at the royal academy. She had been able to discern not only the origin but also the creation method of the 300-year-old picture in just a few moments. If anyone could understand what he was, it was her.
Klein slowly raised his hands, his movements deliberate and non-threatening. The group tensed, Garrett drawing his bow tighter, the string creaking under the strain. "Calm down," Klein said, his voice steady. "I'm not a threat." He began to unbutton his shirt, his fingers moving carefully despite the adrenaline coursing through him.
Slipping the shirt off, he revealed the intricate runes etched under his skin. The group stared in stunned silence, their weapons lowering slightly as if the sight had momentarily disarmed them. All but one.
"T-there's no way," Selene whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and fascination. She stepped out from behind the three men, her eyes wide as she took a hesitant step forward. "Those runes…" she murmured, her hand twitching as if she were fighting the urge to reach out and touch them. "They're… they're Epoch-era. But that's impossible. No one's seen runes like that in centuries."
"Selene," Roland said sharply, his voice cutting through the tension. He reached out to grab her arm, his grip firm but not unkind. "Stay back. We don't know what he is."
She shook her head, her eyes never leaving Klein's chest. "No, Roland, you don't understand. These runes—they're not just old. They're perfect. No one alive today could craft something like this. It's… it's like looking at a piece of history." Her voice wavered, caught between awe and disbelief.
Roland's grip tightened, his brass-colored eyes flicking between Selene and Klein. "Selene, think for a second. If he's not a night creature, then what is he? Something worse?"
Selene hesitated, her hand hovering in the air as if she were afraid to touch him. "I… I don't know. But I need to see this. I need to understand." She looked at Klein, her voice softening. "May I?" she asked, her tone almost pleading.
Klein nodded, his expression calm but wary. "Go ahead."
Roland's jaw tightened, but he didn't stop her as she stepped closer. Her fingers brushed against Klein's arm, tracing the runes with a delicate touch. Her breath caught in her throat as she muttered under her breath, her words too soft for anyone else to hear. "Cold… so cold. But the runes… they're alive. How is this possible?"
"Selene," Roland said again, his voice firmer this time. "Step back. Now."
She ignored him, her focus entirely on Klein. "Your body… it's artificial, isn't it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "These runes… they're not just decorative. They're functional. They're keeping you alive."
Klein nodded, his expression unreadable. "I think so, yes, but don't ask me how it works." He gestured toward Lina, who stood silently, her gaze fixed on the distant tree line.
"Miss Lina?" Selene called softly, but Lina didn't respond. Her eyes narrowed, and Klein felt a familiar knot of dread form in his stomach.
He followed her gaze, and his heart skipped a beat. In the distance, a faint purple light glowed, its hue mesmerizing yet unnatural. It grew larger—no, closer—with alarming speed.
"What is—" Elias began, but his words were cut short as the light surged forward.
Time seemed to slow. The purple light streaked through the air like a comet, its glow casting eerie shadows across the clearing. The *whir* of its movement filled the air, a high-pitched, almost melodic sound that sent shivers down Klein's spine. Elias's eyes widened, his mouth opening in a silent scream as the light reached him. There was a sickening *crunch*, a flash of blinding light, and then—
*THUD!*
The group turned just in time to see Elias's headless body crumple to the ground, his blood pooling in the dirt with a wet, squelching sound. The purple light hovered for a moment before dissipating, leaving only silence and the scent of iron in the air.