Zami trudged through the desolate expanse, each step a grueling reminder of the toll his body had taken. The burns on his arm throbbed relentlessly, his muscles screamed for rest, and his vision blurred as blood loss sapped his strength. Yet his mind churned with thoughts, keeping him awake and alert.
Two shards. One left at the fortress. One he had thrown away to escape. Both radiating power and a strange, inexplicable connection to this cursed place.
"The shards seem to gravitate toward significance," the creature's voice cut into his thoughts.
"I told you before, they're pieces of something far greater. Something you should tread carefully around."
Zami gritted his teeth, ignoring the voice for a moment. The creature inside him had a way of withholding information until it deemed the time right. This habit only added to the gnawing frustration he felt.
He thought of the shard on the throne and how the Bone Monarch seemed to draw strength from it. The other shard, worshipped by the intelligent creatures outside, shared a similar energy. Why did these objects hold such power, and how were they tied to the monsters here?
His home—or what passed for one in this vast colony—wasn't far now. It was a small haven he had carved out in the depths of the colony, hidden away from prying eyes. A place where he could catch his breath, clean his weapons, and repair his body.
The path grew familiar as Zami approached his hideout. A narrow crack in a stone wall led to a cavern filled with makeshift tools and supplies he had scavenged over the years. A fire pit sat in the center, surrounded by sharp bones he had fashioned into cooking implements.
Zami collapsed onto the cold ground, letting out a deep breath as he leaned against the cavern wall. His black cloak, tattered and bloodied, fell to the floor with a dull thud.
The pain from his injuries was unbearable now, demanding his attention. His burned arm was the worst of it, the skin blistered and raw from the *Blood Explosion*. His hands were shredded from using *The Night Sun*, and his legs felt like they would buckle at any moment.
He rummaged through a small stash of herbs, fungi, and remains he had collected from the colony. Some of the plants had natural healing properties he had discovered over time, and others were potent enough to dull the edge of the pain. He crushed a mix of them into a bowl, adding water from a flask to create a thick, paste-like salve.
Carefully, Zami applied the salve to his arm, gritting his teeth as the cooling sensation gave way to a sharp sting. The mixture began to work almost immediately, soothing the burns and aiding his skin's regeneration.
As he worked, his thoughts drifted back to the shards. "What exactly are they?" he muttered aloud, knowing the creature was listening.
"Fragments of something long forgotten," it replied after a moment.
"You've seen how the monsters worship them. These shards don't belong here, just like you."
"That doesn't tell me much." Zami's tone was sharp. "
There was a long pause before the creature spoke again.
"The shards are dangerous. If too many of them come together, they can awaken something far worse than what you've faced. That shard on the throne was already amplifying the Bone Monarch's power. Imagine what it could do in the wrong hands."
Zami frowned, his thoughts returning to the shard he had thrown away. The creatures would have retrieved it by now. Were they trying to gather all the shards? And if so, for what purpose?
He finished treating his wounds, wrapping the salve-covered burns with strips of cloth torn from his cloak. The rest of his injuries would need time to heal, but his body, honed through years of relentless training, would recover faster than most.
Sitting by the fire, Zami pulled out his katana. The black blade glimmered faintly in the firelight, the glowing white symbols etched into it almost pulsating, as if in rhythm with his heartbeat. He took a cloth and began cleaning the weapon, removing the grime and blood from his battles.
As he worked, his gaze shifted to a small dagger resting on a nearby rock—the one he had crafted from a toxic creature's rib. It had been a long time since he'd used it, but he knew it would be invaluable in the battles to come.
The fire crackled softly as Zami leaned back, exhaustion finally catching up to him. His mind, however, refused to rest. He thought about the shards, the creatures, the fortress, and the endless cycle of survival.
"You're not alone in this," the creature's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"I'll guide you when it matters. But you need to stay alive long enough to uncover the truth."
Zami closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath. For now, all he could do was heal and prepare for what lay ahead.