The forest clearing breathed uneasily, alive with motion. Spiders poured in from every direction—out of roots, from bark, down from branches—black shapes against green and shadow. Their legs clicked and clattered against stone and leaf litter, a constant skittering chorus that scraped at the nerves, rising and falling like an insect tide closing in.

  At the center of it all sat Barrett Donovan.

  He was still, grounded, his posture low and deliberate, head bowed as if in meditation. A stars-and-stripes bandana was pulled down over his eyes like a blindfold, long blond hair spilling messily around it and brushing his shoulders. One hand rested lightly on the pommel of his machete—not tense, not ready yet. Waiting.

  The spiders—thirty, then more—crept closer, their bodies low, mandibles twitching. The circle tightened.

  “Ah—Barrett?” Rebby’s voice came from above, hesitant now. “You…okay down there?”

  A faint smile touched his lips.

  “All my life,” he said quietly, voice steady as stone, “I’ve only ever known darkness.”

  The words settled into the clearing just as the first spider lunged.

  Barrett moved.

  The machete flashed free in a clean, whistling arc, steel singing as it split chitin and sinew in one decisive stroke.

  [You have slain Red Dot Spider — Level 13]

  He rose smoothly into motion, [Blood Rush] igniting through his body like a furnace kicked wide open. The world sharpened as [Deadeye Domain] flooded him with angles and trajectories, enemies outlined not by sight but by intent and motion.

  He stepped, cut, turned. Minimal wasted movement. Every strike precise. Every strike efficient.

  Another spider fell. Then another.

  [You have slain Red Dot Spider — Level 13]

  [You have slain Red Dot Spider — Level 13]

  “Next,” he murmured, the word barely more than breath, echoing through the rhythm of steel and flesh.

  He became something else out there. He was detached, focused, almost serene in his brutality. Sweat beaded along his skin as he worked, muscles burning, breath measured. The spiders kept coming. He kept cutting.

  [You have slain Red Dot Spider — Level 13]

  [You have slain Red Dot Spider — Level 13]

  [You have slain Red Dot Spider — Level 13]

  [Iron Reflex] flared again and again, warning him just early enough. A few fangs slipped through, venom biting into his flesh, but it no longer frightened him. The poison tingled now, a familiar heat beneath the skin, uncomfortable but almost…welcome.

  When the last body hit the ground, silence rushed back in.

  Barrett exhaled and flicked his machete clean, the blade humming softly before he slid it back into its sheath.

  [LEVEL UP!]

  [Congratulations, you are now Level 15!]

  [Skill Update Available]

  “Whew,” he said with a breathy laugh, exhaustion finally catching up. His muscles screamed, his limbs heavy, but the satisfaction lingered warm in his chest.

  Soft footsteps landed near him. Then a quick, fleeting kiss brushed his cheek.

  He reached for Rebby instinctively, but she darted just out of reach, laughter in her voice.

  “Uh-uh. No more until you’ve cleaned yourself,” she teased.

  Barrett grinned, shaking his head. “Fair enough.”

  —

  The stream cut a clean, silver ribbon through the forest, its water cold and fast, whispering over stone as it rushed past. Barrett stood knee-deep in it, letting the current do its work, scrubbing spider ichor and grit from his skin until he was fresh as a newborn. The sound of the water was almost hypnotic—steady, uncomplicated, a rare kindness in a world that had been anything but.

  “You’re gonna be okay here alone while I grab some food?” Rebby asked from the bank.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Barrett replied, grinning as he splashed water over his shoulders. “Just don’t make me wait too long.”

  A light smack landed on the back of his head, playful but firm, followed immediately by a quick kiss that left him blinking and laughing.

  Then she was gone, her footsteps fading into the forest.

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  Barrett leaned back into the stream, letting the water cradle him, a small, contented smile settling on his face. For a few precious moments, there was no danger—no spiders, no orcs, no sociopathic businesswomen making him think they were into him only to betray him at the last minute for someone who didn’t even lift. He wasn’t bitter. After all, he was now in a healthy relationship.

  His thoughts drifted to his friends. To Team Donovan.

  He missed them. Of course he did. He hoped they were alive, hoped they were safe, but there was a strange calm in him now, too. A sense that they would manage without him. They always had.

  Did he really need to chase after ships and grand destinies? Defending humanity sounded noble enough, but there were others who could take up that banner. Stronger people. Smarter people. People who hadn’t spent most of their life fighting shadows in their own head.

  The idea of a quest had always appealed to him, but maybe that was just ego whispering sweet lies. Who was he trying to impress? Who would even care if he bled for them? Save the world for whom, exactly? A mass of people who barely noticed when someone like him fell through the cracks?

  No, that was ego talking. Delusion dressed up as purpose.

  Here, in the cold water, with the forest breathing around him and Rebby getting him food somewhere nearby…this felt like an ending already. A good one.

  He was thirty now. Coming-of-age stories were for people still becoming something. He’d already arrived—past his peak, if he was honest. From here on out, it would be younger, sharper kids overtaking him. No point racing a clock he couldn’t beat.

  He could stay. Let go. Be happy for once.

  Still…

  A small, irritating voice in the back of his mind called him a weenie. Said he was making excuses. Said he was running. His mother? Tony Baha? Or was it a piece of himself, the part that had always wanted more out of life?

  Before he could argue with it, a familiar sound cut through the rush of water.

  Chirp.

  Barrett’s head snapped up.

  “That sound…”

  Recognition hit him like a hammer.

  “Grimm.”

  The raven came in low and fast, wings uneven, and crashed into the stream with a splash. Barrett laughed despite himself and scooped the bird up, water dripping from both of them.

  “Looks like you’ve learned a few things since I saw you last,” he said, rubbing the bird’s head.

  Chirp-chirp.

  “Yeah,” Barrett murmured. “So have I.”

  His smile faded slightly. “Is everyone else okay?”

  Grimm chirped again, but this time, the tone was wrong. Sharp. Urgent.

  Barrett’s body tensed.

  Trouble.

  He activated [Deadeye Domain] without thinking, Grimm’s vision snapping into place, and suddenly he could see himself standing in the stream.

  They weren’t alone.

  Behind him loomed a shape that made his breath catch. A spider the size of a house, its body a nightmare of black chitin and jagged red markings, legs thick as tree trunks planted into the earth. It had stopped just short of the water, towering, watching.

  Barrett spun.

  “Let’s move!” he barked, diving out of the stream and grabbing his machete.

  Every instinct screamed at him to run—but Rebby would be back soon. He couldn’t leave her here. Wouldn’t.

  Steel whispered free as he drew the blade, water still dripping from his naked frame as he settled into a stance, muscles coiling despite the fear clawing at his spine.

  “Come on, you bastard,” Barrett growled, eyes locked on the monster. “If you want it, I want it even more. Let’s do this.”

  He surged forward, pouring everything into the first strike, aiming to end it fast—

  “Barrett, wait.”

  Rebby’s voice.

  —

  Barrett froze mid-stride, momentum dying in his limbs as if the world itself had seized him by the spine.

  “What…Rebby?” he breathed.

  The shape before him began to change—not violently, not grotesquely, but with a quiet inevitability, like truth finally stepping out from behind a curtain. The monstrous spider form receded, folding inward, limbs shortening, chitin softening into pale skin. When the transformation ended, she stood there small and still, about his age in build, her complexion moon-pale beneath the forest canopy. Long black hair spilled down her back, threaded through with deep red streaks that caught the light like embers.

  Barrett stared, his mind scrambling to assemble meaning from the pieces.

  “Rebby…you’re a—” The word stuck in his throat. “A spider?”

  Grimm fluttered down and perched on his shoulder, feathers ruffling, a low anxious chirp vibrating against Barrett’s neck.

  She stepped closer, hands folded in front of her as if bracing herself.

  “Oh, Barrett,” she said softly. “I’d hoped we’d have more time. Before you had to know.”

  He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His thoughts were a storm with no center.

  “I wanted to tell you,” she continued, eyes searching his face. “I just…didn’t know how.” Her voice wavered. “Do you hate me?”

  Barrett exhaled, long and slow. Then, to his own surprise, a short laugh escaped him.

  Rebby blinked, startled.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Honestly? This makes me feel better.”

  She frowned slightly, waiting.

  “I was worried,” he admitted. “That this was all some kind of trick. That there was no way someone like you—so kind, so patient—could actually want a guy like me.” He shrugged. “Turns out you’re a monster too.”

  Her shoulders stiffened. “So now it makes sense because I am one.”

  “Yeah,” Barrett said simply.

  She turned away, wounded, but he stepped forward and gently tilted her chin back toward him.

  “Hey,” he said, smiling faintly. “That wasn’t an insult.” His grin widened, a little wild. “We’re two monsters in love, this just makes more sense.”

  For a moment she just stared at him—then color bloomed in her cheeks.

  “We’re…in love?” she asked quietly. “You love me?”

  Barrett nodded. “Even more now that I understand you better. Now that I see your darkness.”

  “You are a very strange man, Barrett Donovan,” she murmured.

  “Been called a lot worse.”

  She laughed under her breath, and he pulled her close, resting his forehead against hers. For a heartbeat, the forest faded away.

  Chirp.

  Barrett blinked. “Right.” He glanced at Grimm. “Any chance you can help me out? Grimm says my friends are in trouble.”

  Rebby’s body went still.

  She didn’t answer.

  “Rebby?”

  Her voice came out barely above a whisper. “Your friends…and the villagers with them. They will be dead soon.”

  The words hit him like a punch.

  “What?” He stepped back. “Then we have to do something. Now.”

  She looked at him, eyes full of something like grief. “It’s the only way.”

  “The only way to what?” he demanded.

  She didn’t answer with words.

  Instead, she stepped forward and kissed him.

  It was sudden. Deep. Charged with urgency and sorrow all at once.

  “Rebby—” Barrett started, flustered despite himself. “That’s always welcome, but this really isn’t the time—”

  Then he felt it.

  A pulse.

  A spark.

  Heat surged through his chest, then down his limbs, flooding his veins like wildfire. He gasped as the sensation intensified, every nerve screaming at once.

  “Rebby…what did you—”

  She pulled back, tears shining in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “But don’t be afraid. This is the only way we can be together.”

  The fire spread, devouring thought, devouring breath. Barrett collapsed to his knees, Grimm shrieking in panic as he fluttered helplessly above.

  Rebby knelt with him, cradling his weight as she eased him to the ground.

  “Don’t fight it,” she murmured, brushing his hair back. “It will be over soon. And then…we can begin again.”

  She kissed him one last time.

  The world went dark.