Gaius' hand hovered near his vambrace, fingers tightening against the cool metal. His body was still battered, still aching, but his instincts were sharper than ever. He could feel the presence across the river—something waiting, watching.
Aera slowly rose to her feet, her muscles tensed like a coiled wire, eyes locked on the shadow beyond the trees. Darin had stopped drinking, his breath coming in short, rapid bursts, his fingers trembling as he wiped his mouth.
Joran, barely conscious, let out a faint groan.
The jungle remained still.
The figure across the water stood motionless, obscured by the dense foliage. But it wasn't just some unseen predator lurking — it knew they were here. It wasn't hunting in the way the beasts before had.
It was waiting.
Gaius straightened, rolling his shoulders. His voice was low, controlled. "Aera."
"I see it," she murmured.
Darin swallowed hard. "What… what is it?"
No one answered.
The shape shifted slightly, and for the briefest moment, the dappled sunlight shining on something wrong—something humanoid, but stretched, distorted. The proportions were unnatural, arms too long, torso too thin. Gaius' gut clenched. He had seen many terrible things in the Colosseum—beasts of flesh and metal, men broken and rebuilt for sport—but this thing, whatever it was, unnerved him.
Aera took a slow step back. "We should move."
Gaius nodded. He turned to hoist Joran back over his shoulder, his muscles screaming in protest. "Darin—help."
The boy hesitated but obeyed, slipping under Joran's other arm.
"Go," he ordered.
They turned away from the river and into the jungle, moving as fast as their weary bodies would allow.
The undergrowth closed around them, the thick canopy above swallowing what little light remained. The ground was uneven, damp, their steps heavy with exhaustion. But they didn't stop.
Gaius risked one glance back.
The figure stood at the river's edge, unmoving. It did not cross.
He exhaled, his grip tightening on Joran. It can't touch the water.
A small mercy.
But mercies in this place never lasted long.
They moved deeper into the jungle, the silence pressing against them. The weight of their exhaustion made every step a battle. The night had stretched too long, their bodies pushed too far.
Joran stirred weakly against Gaius. His fever was worsening. If they didn't find shelter—real shelter—soon, he wouldn't last another day.
Aera's voice was soft but firm. "We need to stop."
Darin almost collapsed at the words. "We can't. If we stop, we—"
"We die faster if we drop where we stand," Gaius muttered. His entire body was running on nothing but sheer force of will, and he could see the others weren't faring much better. Even Aera, as composed as she tried to be, was slowing.
They needed rest. But not out in the open.
Gaius scanned the jungle, his eyes searching for anything—a rock overhang, a hollowed tree, anything that could serve as cover.
Then he spotted it.
A ridge, partially hidden by thick brush. The terrain sloped upward, the stone jutting out to form a natural alcove.
"Up there," he said, nodding toward it. "We hold out for the night."
Aera glanced at the ridge, then at Joran. "It's better than nothing."
With what little strength they had left, they made the climb.
The ridge was shallow, more of a break in the terrain than a true cave, but it was enough. The stone was dry, offering a reprieve from the damp earth below. Gaius set Joran down carefully, feeling the heat radiating off his body. The old man's breath came in short, labored puffs.
Darin sat down beside him, rubbing his hands over his face. "We need food. Water wasn't enough."
"We're working on borrowed time," Aera muttered. "If we don't find something soon…"
She didn't finish the sentence.
Gaius leaned back against the rock, exhaling through his nose. His body was failing, but his mind was still sharp. Rest now. Move later. That was all they could do.
The jungle stretched before them in eerie stillness. The river was gone from sight now, hidden by the trees, but Gaius couldn't shake the image of that thing standing at its edge. Watching. Waiting.
Whatever it was, it hadn't followed.
But somehow, he knew it wasn't done with them yet.
The sun seemed to be dipping low, the few sun beams clawing its way atop the canopy was slowly fading. The air was thick with the weight of the day's exhaustion, and every movement felt heavier, slower.
Gaius crouched beside Joran, pressing the back of his hand to the older man's forehead. The fever still burned hot beneath his skin, though the water had helped keep him stable—for now. His breathing was less labored, but the tremors hadn't stopped. They needed more than water. They needed food, and more than that, medicine.
Aera sat nearby, her fingers idly running along the worn handle of her knife, eyes flicking toward the darkening sky. Darin stood a short distance away, arms crossed, his gaze distant, lost in whatever thoughts haunted him.
"We're running out of time," Aera murmured. "We can't keep going like this. Not without food."
Darin exhaled sharply, nodding. "Even if we get to another vantage point, even if we find a path forward—without food, we're done."
Gaius looked at them both, then at Joran's unmoving form. He knew what needed to be done.
"I'll go," he said.
Aera tensed slightly. "You shouldn't go alone."
"We can't leave Joran undefended." Gaius' voice was firm. "We don't know what else is out there. One of us has to stay."
"I can go with you," Darin offered, but the hesitation in his voice betrayed him.
Gaius shook his head. "You stay. If something happens, Joran won't be able to run, and Aera can't fight and carry him at the same time." He continued as he met Aera's gaze.
Aera's jaw clenched, but she gave a small nod. "Fine. But don't take too long."
Gaius adjusted his vambrace, rolling his shoulder to shake the stiffness from his limbs. "I won't."
Then, without another word, he stepped into the jungle, vanishing into the undergrowth.
The air grew thicker the deeper he went, the damp scent of earth and rotting leaves clinging to his skin. Each step was cautious, measured. His ears were tuned to every shift in the foliage, every distant rustle.
He needed a weapon.
His eyes scanned the trees until he found one suitable—a low-hanging branch, thick and sturdy. With a firm grip, he snapped it free, testing the weight in his hand. It wasn't perfect, but it would do.
Using his vambrace, he stripped away the excess bark, shaping the end into a crude but effective point. It wasn't a true spear, but with enough force, it would do damage. He flexed his grip, rolling the weapon between his fingers.
This will do.
Moving deeper, he kept to the shadows, his body shifting between trees like a ghost. His muscles were sore, but his instincts remained sharp. Stronger than before, even. Whether it was the energy from the system or something else, he wasn't sure.
Then, movement.
He saw it through the gaps in the trees—a hunched reptilian creature, skulking through the undergrowth. Its jagged teeth gleamed in the dim light, its elongated limbs tense with the grace of a seasoned predator.
Gaius remained perfectly still, pressed against the rough bark of a tree, watching.
The creature was hunting.
Its nostrils flared as it sniffed at the air, its claws flexing against the ground. Good, Gaius thought. It doesn't know I'm here.
Carefully, he moved, circling the tree to keep the beast in sight. Step by step, he positioned himself to follow its movements.
Then—
A snap.
His foot pressed against a hidden branch, the sharp crack cutting through the jungle's oppressive silence.
His breath caught.
The creature's head snapped toward him.
For a split second, their eyes met.
Then it lunged.
Gaius reacted on instinct.
He thrust his makeshift spear forward, aiming for the creature's center mass. The impact was brutal—the sharpened wood punched through its shoulder, sinking deep into flesh. The force of its own attack drove it further onto the weapon, a guttural snarl ripping from its throat.
The beast twisted, its claws slashing wildly. Gaius barely managed to pull back in time, but the creature wasn't retreating—it was furious.
It snarled, its jagged teeth flashing as it yanked itself free from the spear, thick ichor oozing from the wound. The injury had slowed it, but not stopped it.
Gaius tightened his stance.
His vambrace gleamed in the dim light.
The real fight had just begun.
The beast circled Gaius now, snarling, wounded but not cowed. It was testing him, gauging his reactions, the way a predator did before finishing off cornered prey.
Gaius kept his breathing steady, shifting his grip on his makeshift spear. His vambrace was still his real weapon—if the creature got close enough, he could use it. But he couldn't let it dictate the fight. He had learned that lesson in the Colosseum: the moment you let your opponent take control was the moment you lost.
The reptilian beast feinted, snapping its jaws toward him but not fully committing. It wanted him to flinch.
Gaius didn't.
Instead, he moved first.
He lunged forward, thrusting the spear again, this time aiming for its exposed side. The creature twisted at the last second, but he had anticipated it. Instead of striking its ribs, the spear slammed into its leg, sinking deep.
A screech tore from the beast's throat as it staggered, its wounded limb struggling to hold its weight.
Gaius ripped the weapon free, blood spilling over his hands.
It howled, fury burning in its slitted eyes, then pounced.
Too fast.
Gaius barely had time to raise his vambrace before it crashed into him, its full weight slamming into his chest. He hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air from his lungs.
The creature's jagged teeth snapped just inches from his throat.
Gaius drove his vambrace upward, slamming the sharpened edge into the beast's jaw. A sickening crack followed, and the beast reeled back, its scream splitting the air.
Gaius didn't hesitate.
He rolled free, forcing himself upright. His muscles screamed in protest, but he ignored the pain.
The creature staggered, its wounds slowing it now. Blood—thick, dark—dripped from its jaw and leg.
It snarled again, but this time, there was hesitation in its movements.
It knows it's losing.
Gaius lifted his vambrace, flexing his fingers, feeling the blood of the fight pumping through his veins.
He let the beast make the next move.
It lunged one last time.
He was ready.
Gaius sidestepped, twisting his body, and drove the vambrace's jagged edge into its exposed throat.
The force of the strike sent them both to the ground, but this time, the beast did not rise.
It thrashed, its claws scraping against him weakly, its body spasming. Its eyes flickered, its jagged teeth snapping in silent defiance—
Then it went still.
Silence.
Gaius breathed heavily, his hands covered in the creature's thick blood. He could still feel its final, shuddering breath against his skin.
Then—
"You have absorbed another creature's aether. You've grown stronger. 10 points have been allocated."
The cold voice rang in his skull, clearer than ever.
And beneath the exhaustion, beneath the pain of his wounds, he felt it.
That same pulse of strength, that same thrum of something unnatural settling into his bones.
He exhaled sharply, rolling off the dead creature and onto his knees. His body still ached, his ribs burned where the beast had hit him, but…
He was stronger.
His vision flickered for a moment, and instinctively, he reached inward—
[Points Available: 40]
Forty.
They still closing in on a hundred points combined.
He glanced down at the creature's corpse, its blood still pooling beneath it. Its scales, thick and layered, gleamed under the dim light filtering through the jungle canopy.
Meat.
He didn't know what this thing was, but it would have to do.
Gaius wiped the sweat from his brow, forcing himself to his feet. He had what he needed. Now, he had to get back.
He grabbed his makeshift spear—bloodied, but still usable—and slung the beast's carcass over his shoulders. The weight was heavy, but he ignored it.
Then, without a second glance at the clearing, he started back toward the ridge.
Toward the others. With last rays of sun dimming completely.
Gaius emerged from the jungle, muscles burning with fatigue, the weight of the slain beast pressing down on his shoulders. As he stepped into the clearing, Aera and Darin jolted upright, their hands instinctively reaching for their weapons.
Then, as their eyes landed on him—on the lifeless creature draped across his back—the tension broke.
Relief flickered across Darin's face first. "Gaius! Thank god you're here. Almost thought we lost you out there."
Gaius exhaled sharply, adjusting the beast's weight before letting it thud to the ground. "It'll take more than a lizard to take me out." He rolled his shoulders, shaking out the ache. "Now, let's get this fire going."
Darin gave a sheepish chuckle, gesturing toward the small pile of twigs and dried leaves they had gathered. "Yeah, uh… we weren't exactly having much luck."
Gaius raised a brow at the pathetic excuse for a fire pit. "You never learned how to start a fire?"
Darin shrugged. "Not exactly something they cover in school."
Aera folded her arms, watching Gaius with mild interest. "You know how?"
"That history of yours never told you about gladiators making fires?" he mused, kneeling beside the pile and beginning his work. "No matter. I was a boy in the forests of Maghreb before we were conquered by the Romans. My father taught me some things before that time." He picked up a dry, fibrous strip of bark and rolled it between his palms, gathering more dry grass beneath it.
Once he had a decent bundle, he grabbed a sturdy, straight branch and pressed the end of it against a flat, curved piece of wood. Placing his hands on either side, he began twisting it back and forth.
Darin and Aera watched in silence as the wood fibers began to smoke.
The smell of burning wood filled the air as Gaius worked faster, breathing steadily through the effort. Soon, a small ember formed in the dried bark. Carefully, he lifted the glowing ember and placed it into the dry nest of grass, cupping his hands around it and blowing gently.
The ember glowed brighter—then, with a soft fwoosh, the flame caught.
Darin's eyes widened slightly. "That actually worked?"
Gaius smirked, placing more dry twigs onto the small flame, feeding it until the fire grew steady. "You never learned patience, did you?"
Darin huffed. "Never saw that technique on the TV show…"
Gaius frowned slightly at the strange statement but was too exhausted to question it. Instead, he turned his attention to the beast's carcass. He knelt beside it, flexing his fingers before reaching for Aera's makeshift stone knife. The edge was crude, barely fit for the work, but it would have to do.
The dissection was slow, grueling. The beast's hide was thick, and the dull edge of the knife forced him to saw through flesh rather than cut cleanly. Gaius' hands were slick with blood by the time he managed to carve enough meat to cook. His stomach twisted at the acrid scent of raw flesh, but hunger drowned out any hesitation.
Aera speared several chunks onto sharpened sticks and propped them over the fire, turning them carefully. The scent of burning meat filled the air—rough, bitter, but still food.
When the first pieces were done, they gave the smallest, tenderest bits to Joran first. Aera helped him sit up, supporting his head as she pressed a small piece to his lips. "Eat, Joran."
The old man groaned weakly but obeyed, chewing with slow, deliberate movements. The warmth seemed to ground him, his fevered breath evening just a fraction.
Darin ate next, ravenous despite the charred taste. Gaius didn't bother savoring his portion—he simply ate, letting the heat of the meat settle into his bones.
No one spoke much as they ate, the only sound the quiet crackle of the fire and the occasional shifting of the jungle around them.
The night stretched on.
With their stomachs somewhat filled and the fire warding off the jungle's suffocating darkness, exhaustion finally took hold.
But no one truly slept.
Not fully.
They took turns keeping watch, eyes scanning the shadows beyond their small refuge. Every snapped twig, every rustle of the wind against the trees sent their nerves spiking. The memory of the thing at the river still lingered in their minds, its eerie, watching presence crawling beneath their skin.
And yet, the night passed without incident.
No screeching beasts. No unseen predators creeping toward them.
But the feeling of being watched never faded.
It remained, pressing against the edges of their awareness.