Morning slowly came, pale sun spilling across scorched ground, hesitating to touch the remains of the shattered trees and bones of ancient metal strewn around. Ethan could hear the soft tugging of wind against the makeshift tents and low murmur of voices as the Outliers started getting ready for the day. Amara was already awake. Her sharp eyes were focused on the horizon, with her hand resting loosely on the hilt of her weapon. She had yet to trust Kael or his group, and Ethan could feel her unease.
The sky was clear, a rare thing in this world of ash and wind. Ethan stretched his arms, still sore from the journey and the fight the day before. His muscles ached in places he did not know existed, but they were alive—and that was enough for now. He glanced over at Amara, already knee-deep in her own preparations, checking the straps on her pack and making sure her gear was in perfect order.
Kael stood by the fire, his voice steady as he gave orders and encouragement to his group. The Outliers had a rhythm about them, a silent confidence born from years of survival. Watching them work reminded Ethan that survival was not just about brute strength or luck. It was discipline, knowing when to wait, when to strike, and when to listen. Kael was that leader, and Ethan couldn't decide if it was a blessing or a curse.
"Okay," Kael's voice cut through the morning air, bringing Ethan's attention to the front. "Today, we move. We'll hit the eastern entrance of the ruins and scout the perimeter for any unusual activity. Everyone stay sharp. We can't afford surprises."
The Outliers looked at one another, their faces inscrutable, but the drive in Kael's words propelled them onward. Ethan shifted his pack, glancing at Amara, already tense, waiting to go.
They had been gathered together what felt like only minutes ago, their gear packed, their weapons checked, and their faces etched with resolve. Ethan took a deep breath, trying to shake the unease that was growing inside of him. His fingers found the worn handle of his own weapon; the smooth metal was soothingly familiar as he grasped it. His eyes turned toward the horizon, watching as the group continued on their journey, the wind tugging at their cloaks and hair.
They walked slowly, steadily, the rough landscape spread out before them. The earth was rocky and irregular, with volcanic ash and ancient rock formations and human detritus, the remains of half-exposed forms and draped in moss and dust. Ethan felt the decay of every step, the earth as if it came to life under his feet, watching and waiting.
Amara kept close to his side as they moved, her sharp eyes scanning every movement, every crevice, every sound. Ethan didn't know if it was from experience or instinct, but he appreciated the caution either way. The ruins had a way of getting into your head, whispering promises of secrets and dangers, tempting you into foolishness.
"You ever get used to this?" Ethan asked her, his voice low as they walked.
She did not turn around and seemed focused on the path in front of them. "Used to what?"
"This. all of it," he said, as though the ruins, danger, and survival themselves held explanation. "To it."
Her eyes flickered to his for a flash of a moment before darting down again, not readable. "No. You never get used to it. You just learn how to survive."
She spoke the words into the silence, into the wind. For a minute, they hung there: words. Then Ethan sighed slowly and nodded. Of course she was right; survival had nothing to do with comfort or routine. Survival was survival: it was remaining alive. It was adaptation. Learning from failures.
The ruins came into view as they moved toward the eastern entrance. The structure was massive—a towering spire of metal and stone half-buried in the earth, ancient glyphs and symbols glowing faintly along its sides. The ruins were alive, pulsing, almost breathing. Ethan could feel their presence, the ancient, unfathomable power that had drawn countless explorers and scavengers before them.
Kael stopped at the bottom of the structure, his voice low. "This is the eastern entrance. Keep your eyes open. This place is a living nightmare, and we need to know what we're dealing with before we step inside."
The group spread out, moving quietly as they scanned the perimeter. Amara kept close to Ethan, her hand never far from her weapon. Ethan could feel her tension, her sense of uncertainty, but he didn't push her. The ruins had a way of breaking people, both physically and mentally.
Kael and a few others began scanning the base of the structure with advanced sensors and tools; odd devices that sent pulses of light and sound to illuminate bits of the ruins and detected movement. Ethan watched, observing the way the hands moved steadily and precisely with each task. There seemed to be a sense of purpose to them, some sort of experience that Ethan found himself admiring.
"Keep an eye on everything," Kael muttered, his eyes flicking across at the others. "The slightest thing out of place can be deadly. These things don't sleep forever."
They waited, the air heavy with tension as the scans went on. Ethan could feel his heartbeat in his chest; each beat loud, steady, and uncertain. The ruins pulsed, a low rumble beneath the earth, like the breathing of some ancient god. He tried to shake the feeling, to ignore the pressure building in his bones, but it lingered.
"Something's wrong," one of the scouts said, his voice sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. He was tense, his hands gripping his weapon. His words sent a shiver through the group.
"What is it?" Kael asked, his voice firm but calm as he glanced back.
"There's movement," the scout said low. "Something's moving beneath the ground. Could be a trap."
Amara stood by Ethan's side, her face tight as she glanced toward the spire. She was putting her hand on the gun, her eyes were cutting the darkness that shrouded the foundation of the ruins.
Kael gazed around at his team before furrowing his brow and telling them, "Be prepared. All of you watch your positions. We have no idea what we are working with yet."
The air cooled as they waited. Ethan could feel his fingers shaking a little as his gun came into his hand. He could hear the wind, the whispers of the ruins, the faint creak of metal against the earth as something shifted beneath the ground. Amara grabbed his arm, her voice sharp. "Stay focused. Don't let your mind wander."
His tension spread along his body as he inclined the head. His mind mullers of thoughts and fears welled up. What had they stumbled upon here? What can be its meaning? He may even feel the presence there to that awaits one beyond the veil.
More dirt moved. A low-rumbling sound shook the air while the earth beneath their foot pulsated like the rhythmic beat of a monster's heart. Ethan hardened his body, his own weapon aimed.
And then, out of the darkness, came.