The adrenaline from the collapse didn't fade so much as it curdled, turning into a cold, heavy ache that settled in Ren’s marrow. He stood in front of the others guiding them through the slithering caverns, his mechanical arm whirring with a rhythmic, tortured click as the joints cooled. Around him, the six recruits were slumped against the jagged walls, their breathing ragged, their eyes wide and fixed on the darkness where the pack had vanished.

  "Don't let the torches dip," Ren commanded, his voice raspy but firm. "Check your seals. We can't stay here; the scent of blood will just bring the rest of the mountain down on us."

  They moved like ghosts, a slow-motion procession of battered leather and bruised egos. Every few yards, the tunnel seemed to squeeze inward, the stone damp with a slick, oily residue that made their footing treacherous. Ren stayed near the back, his gaze constantly drifting to Leo.

  The mage was a shadow of himself. His usual sharp, analytical posture had collapsed into a heavy trudge, his staff clicking against the stone with every rhythmic, agonizing step. The blue veins in his neck were still pulsing faintly from the over-exertion of the communication weave and the concussive blasts, a sign that he was running on fumes and sheer spite.

  Ren knew that look. It was the look of a man whose spirit was willing but whose body was run dry. Ren kept checking on him, and Leo kept flicking him off in that stubborn, irritated way of his.

  Then the scraping came. A soft, dragging hiss of claws across rock.

  Everyone stopped. The noise seeped out from deep ahead - not frantic skittering like the rat-things, but slow, weighted, deliberate.

  The six young Order members tightened together. Their adrenaline had carried them this far, but exhaustion pulled at them, fraying their nerves. They’d barely breathed since the collapse, since the desperate retreat. The dark held too many teeth.

  "Hold," Ren whispered, lifting a hand. Lanterns dimmed beneath cloth, shadows swelling. Only the faint glimmer of Ren’s golden threads lit the air - thin strands suspended between his fingers.

  The scraping grew louder. Closer. Ren’s stomach knotted. They couldn’t go back - the cavern behind them was half-collapsed. Forward was their only path.

  He leaned toward Leo. "Still with me?"

  Leo’s smile looked carved from pain. "Barely. But I can still cast. Just don’t ask for anything impressive."

  Ren faced the group again. "Half-circle. Backs to the wall. If it’s a swarm, we fall back through the choke point. If it’s not…" He didn’t finish.

  The scraping deepened into a wet drag - claws and something heavy sliding across stone. A low hiss followed, not like rats but deeper, almost serpent-like.

  Callen, the wiry young mage, swallowed hard. "What if it’s another cavern collapsing?"

  "It’s not," Ren said. Too sharp. But it shut the panic down.

  Shapes stirred at the edge of the golden light. A long pale mass hauled itself forward - limbless except for clawed protrusions, its head a blunt eyeless maw lined with jagged, uneven teeth. Its skin gleamed slick with mucus, pulsing faintly.

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  Ren felt his breath stutter. It looked wrong. A creature that shouldn’t exist, abandoned or malformed.

  It hissed again, and the sound thrummed through them.

  "Steady!" Ren barked, forcing steel into his voice. The kids needed a wall, not someone shaking as hard as they were. "Blades up. Casters - no heavy spells, not unless you want a cave-in."

  The monster lunged.

  Its long body scraped forward with shocking speed. Ren snapped his threads outward, golden lines tightening around its torso. The tension slowed it just enough for the front line to react.

  Steel flashed. The creature writhed, smashing its bulk against the floor. Leo staggered forward, raising a trembling hand - and a violet bolt cracked against the beast’s flank. It shrieked, a noise that felt wet and metallic at once.

  The spell nearly dropped Leo.

  "Ren!"

  He turned - one of the youngest, a girl barely nineteen, had frozen. Her sword slipped from her trembling fingers as the beast twisted toward her.

  Ren moved without thinking. He shoved past the others, grabbed her shoulder, pushed her behind him. Threads hardened around his arms, latticed gold catching the monster’s next strike. Its maw snapped inches from his face.

  The stench - rot layered on rot.

  He braced, planted his feet, and twisted. His threads torqued like a lever, wrenching the creature sideways. It slammed into the cavern wall. Steel followed - a flurry of blows, magic sparking.

  The creature convulsed. Then went still.

  Silence filled the cavern. Thick. Unsettling.

  Ren’s chest heaved, threads flickering weakly. The girl stared at the ground, tears streaking through dust. She couldn’t even meet his eyes.

  "You’re still breathing," Ren said softly. "That means next time, you pick your blade back up. Understand?"

  She nodded shakily. He turned away before guilt rooted itself.

  Hours crawled by. Hunger clawed at them - their rations lost with the cargo-beasts. Even hardened Order members weren’t made to fight on empty stomachs.

  A glimmer of moisture caught Ren’s attention. He slowed, crouching beside a shallow stone basin. A pool of water shimmered faintly, lit by the moss clinging to the rock.

  Relief swept the group.

  "Wait," Ren said. He looked to Leo. "Can you check it?"

  Leo’s exhaustion showed in every line of him, but he knelt and conjured a thin veil of mana. It drifted over the water, purging a faint shimmer of toxins Ren wouldn’t have noticed until they bubbled away.

  Leo swayed. Ren caught his shoulder. "Easy."

  "I’m fine," Leo lied.

  The younger recruits didn’t wait. They dropped to their knees, drinking greedily.

  Ren lingered, eyes catching on clusters of mushrooms clinging to the walls - wide-capped, bioluminescent. Dangerous more often than not, but something about the scent felt familiar.

  He tasted a sliver. Bitter, but harmless.

  He gathered as many as he could, channeled golden heat through his palms, softening and searing them until an earthy aroma filled the cavern.

  For the first time in days, they had food. Water. Warmth.

  The group ate in weary silence. The girl from before sat closest to Ren, still shaken but breathing steadier.

  Ren ate last. Let them see calm, even if he felt carved hollow. That was his duty.

  Another day of slow trudging followed - half-collapsed tunnels, treacherous footing, every breath measured. But then - voices. Echoing faintly.

  Familiar.

  They weren’t alone.

  The regroup was chaotic, emotional. Tears and laughter clashed. Raven’s harsh tone cracked when she saw them alive. Sinclair’s stern expression softened as he clasped Ren’s arm.

  But Ren saw the absences too. Gaps where friends should’ve been.

  Tonight, though, they were together. And for now - that had to be enough.