Dion's fingers trembled against the hilt of his blade.
Run.
The thought clawed at his mind, but what was the point? There were few things a Hollowborn could outrun.
And this wasn't one of them.
The Grimlings skittered closer, their twisted forms shifting in the dim light. Their hollow black eyes gleamed, fixated on him. Their chittering rose, high-pitched and eager.
They knew.
Dion took a step back, his heart hammering against his ribs. He wasn't getting out of this clean. His only chance was to cut through them and break away. But there were too many.
His grip tightened. He could take one down. Maybe two. But after that—
The first one lunged.
Dion barely twisted in time, its claws slicing through the air just inches from his face. He drove his blade forward, but the creature was fast. Too fast. It skittered sideways, out of reach. Another one moved in from behind.
He spun, swinging wide—missed.
The third struck.
Pain exploded across his shoulder as jagged claws tore through his jacket. Dion hissed, stumbling back. Warmth spread beneath the fabric, but he had no time to check. The Grimlings were circling now, their movements erratic, twitching.
They were playing with him.
A faint tremor ran through his legs. His vision swam for half a second before he forced himself to focus. He had to move. If he stayed in the open, they'd tear him apart.
His eyes darted around the ruined street. No exits. No cover. No—
There.
His gaze locked onto a crumbling building to his right. The entrance was partially collapsed, but if he could just break through—
The Grimlings shrieked.
They lunged.
Dion didn't think. He ran.
His boots slammed against the pavement, kicking up dust as he sprinted for the gap in the wall. The creatures were right behind him, their clawed limbs scraping against stone.
Too close.
Dion threw himself forward, crashing into the opening. Sharp edges cut into his skin as he tumbled through the debris, landing hard against the cold floor. He gasped, pain lancing through his side.
No time. He scrambled to his feet, spinning around just as the first Grimling tried to force its way through. Its skeletal frame wedged between the broken stone, snarling as it reached for him.
Dion didn't hesitate. He brought his blade down—hard.
The edge split through its skull with a sickening crack. The Grimling convulsed, its body going limp as blackened blood splattered against the ground.
You have slain a Grimling.
The Oracle's voice was distant, barely registering in his mind. He wrenched his blade free just as another clawed hand reached through the gap.
They were still coming.
Dion backed up, panting. His vision blurred at the edges, exhaustion pressing in. He wasn't going to last like this. His body ached, the deep cut in his shoulder burning.
He had to think.
The building was old, crumbling. If he could just collapse the entrance—
A sharp chittering snapped his attention forward. Another Grimling squeezed through the gap, its wiry frame forcing its way inside.
Dion raised his blade, but his arms were heavy. Too heavy.
The creature lunged.
He staggered back, barely dodging as claws slashed through the air. His foot caught on loose rubble, and suddenly, the ground wasn't beneath him anymore.
He fell.
The world tilted, his back slamming into something hard. Pain burst through his ribs, the impact forcing the air from his lungs. For a moment, he couldn't breathe.
Then—silence.
Dust clouded the air. The only sound was the distant chittering above. Dion blinked, dazed. His body refused to move.
Slowly, his vision adjusted.
He wasn't in the building anymore. He had fallen—somewhere deeper.
And the Grimlings weren't following.