The bones were shaking. At first it was subtle—just a faint vibration beneath the cloth, a nervous tremor like something struggling to stay still. Then the bundles tore themselves free. Bones burst upward and floated through the sky. Fragments ripped from cloth and bindings alike, snapping into the air as if pulled by an unseen tide. Femurs, ribs, vertebrae, fragments of skull—everything the group had gathered tore skyward at once, spiraling into a widening column above the clearing.

  The boy stumbled back, heart slamming against his ribs. This shouldn’t be possible. H-how. The boy's mind was racing trying to find an explanation.

  Purple-white energy flickered between the bones, thin at first, then stronger—crackling like lightning trapped inside glass. The air warped around them. Leaves bent inward. Dust lifted from the ground and hung, unmoving.

  “What—what is this?” Chop said, voice tight. “What is happening?”

  No one else spoke but they all shared the same sentiment. What was happening had to be fake, a dream. It was fantastical far beyond what they were used to, even from this world. Wrighty planted his feet, staff raised halfway, unsure whether to strike or brace. Snow had her bow drawn but didn’t lose—there was nowhere to aim. Gravel’s hand hovered near his weapon, jaw clenched hard enough to ache. Five stepped back deliberately, placing himself between the storm and Shiela—who he set down behind him—his body angled just enough to shield her. His expression didn’t change, but his eyes sharpened.

  The boy felt it was something he fully understood. The bones weren’t just moving. They seemed to be glitching in a way that the boy couldn’t understand. Each fragment flickered at the edges, phasing in and out of clarity. One moment solid, the next blurred, stretched, doubled—like reality itself couldn’t decide where they belonged. The lightning wasn’t powering them. It was forcing them to stay. They don’t fit, the boy realized. His breath caught. They don’t belong here.

  “Doc,” Wrighty muttered without looking away. “Tell me you’re seeing that.”

  “They’re… wrong,” the boy said. “They’re not stable.”

  Five glanced at him, then back to the storm. “Good. You see it too.”

  All at once the spinning stopped. The bones snapped into place midair. Feet aligned beneath an invisible pelvis. A spine assembled itself vertebra by vertebra, jerking with every connection. Ribs locked together in uneven arcs. Arms stretched outward, bones mismatched in length, some doubled, others missing entirely. Four skulls hovered near the top. They twitched and then they merged.

  The skulls pressed together, faces folding inward, cheekbones cracking and reshaping until one distorted head remained—too wide, too tall, its jawline wrong in ways the boy couldn’t articulate. Energy surged as the creature slowly took form. Where bone was missing, something filled the gaps. Though it was not flesh or muscles. Purple light hardened into shape, stretching between joints, knitting structure where there should have been muscle and sinew. It pulsed unevenly, flickering like a bad signal, struggling to hold its form. It then formed dark empty eyes. The sclera of the creature's eyes was as black as oblivion and its iris was a shimmering purple. Then markings appeared on the disheveled skull—markings like tear drops below the eyes that were a shade of dark blue. The thing twitched and spasmed as reality itself rippled around it.

  Chop swore and stepped forward. “No. No, we’re not letting this finish.”

  “Chop—wait—” Gravel barked.

  But it was too late.

  Chop roared and charged, cleaver raised high as he leapt, aiming straight for the malformed skull. For a split second, the boy thought, that’s good we should break it before-.

  The thing reacted. Its torso twisted impossibly fast, joints bending where no joints existed. One arm snapped upward, bone and energy blurring together, intercepting the cleaver mid-swing.

  It had completely nullified Chop’s attack with one arm. The boy’s eyes widened as he watched the monster switch from stopping chops when to grabbing it with its skeletal hands. It then pulled Chop toward it with inhuman strength.

  Chop was yanked forward, his body dragged mid air as the thing’s second arm slammed into his chest. The strike wasn’t heavy—but space itself seemed to compress around it. There was a sound like breath leaving lungs. The boy heard bones break—not snap, but collapse—as Chop’s body caved inward, ribs crushing, spine bowing at an angle no living body should bend. Chop hit the ground hard. His body went limp on the ground in front of the creature as blood slowly flowed from his mouth. His head was turned towards the group and the boy met his eyes. Which were now completely devoid of life.

  “CHOP!” Wrighty shouted.

  The thing slowly descended and landed on the ground. Its feet touched the earth and sank an inch into the soil, energy flickering violently as it struggled to remain solid. Its head jerked toward the sound of Wrighty’s voice, movements stuttering, delayed, like frames missing from a film.

  It let out a horrifying scream. Four voices tried to come out at once that created a terrible combined sound. The sound tore through the clearing, scraping against the boy’s skull, rattling his teeth. The weight in his chest surged, cold and crushing, responding to the thing’s existence like a pulled wire.

  Gravel raised his weapon. “Fall back! Formation—now!”

  Snow loosed an arrow. It struck the thing’s shoulder—and passed halfway through before dissolving into sparks.

  She let out swear as she began to move backwards, her breath cold and hitched.

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  Wrighty planted his staff and took a step forward, teeth clenched. “It killed him,” he said, disbelief cracking through his voice. “It just—” Wrighty stopped talking as fear consumed him.

  The boy couldn’t move. He stared at Chop’s body. At the way the ground beneath him had been pressed flat, as if something unimaginably heavy landed on him. The thing turned. Its gaze—if it could be called that—settled briefly on the boy. The energy holding it together flared brighter, unstable, straining against whatever rules it was violating just by standing there.

  The boy grabbed his club ready to fight before Gravel let out an order so clear it could not be mistaken.

  “RUN.”

  The word hit like a whip. The group obeyed immediately, breaking off into a sprint. Snow vanished first, slipping between trunks with her bow already half-raised, boots barely touching the ground. Sheath followed close, blade drawn, glancing back only long enough to confirm the thing was still there. The boy couldn’t see where Eerie went so he assumed that he had ran as soon as he saw the creature. Gravel darted toward Shiela and her chair. Gravel grabbed the wheelchair frame and shoved it toward Five who was already lifting Shiela onto his back in one practiced motion, straps snapping tight as he turned and ran.

  Wrighty hesitated on running. Just a fraction too long. His eyes were still on Chop’s body.

  “WRIGHTY!” Gravel roared.

  That did it. Wrighty spun and sprinted, staff tucked low, feet hammering the ground with explosive force. The jungle closed around them instantly—branches tearing at skin, roots catching ankles, shadows knitting together behind them As the group darted with reckless abandon.

  The boy ran last. Pain detonated through his ribs the moment he moved. His breath tore loose, vision flashing white as he stumbled forward. He clutched his chest, teeth grinding as he forced his legs to keep moving. The weight inside him surged. This is it, I have to find a way to do it again. He focused inward, desperately searching for that same pull, that same inward collapse he’d felt when he beat the alpha canine. He reached for it the way he’d done instinctively last time, trying to drag it forward, trying to make it happen. Nothing answered. His chest burned. His ribs screamed. Yet the weight stayed where it was.

  Behind them the screaming stopped. The boy risked a glance over his shoulder. The thing wasn’t charging. It seemed like it was just walking yet it moved at unnatural speeds. Its form stuttered as it moved, bones sliding out of alignment and snapping back into place, purple energy flaring and dimming like a failing signal. Each step bent the air around it, leaves trembling without being touched, roots pressing deeper into the soil as it passed.

  It took one step—and the distance between them shortened unnaturally.

  “Don’t look back!” Snow shouted.

  The warning came too late as the creature raised an arm. Energy surged along its length, violent and unstable. The jungle itself seemed to recoil. The pressure slammed into the boy’s head like a wall, his vision warping at the edges. The arm came down. The ground behind them didn’t explode. It folded in on itself Soil compressed inward as if crushed by something invisible, roots snapping and sinking, trees bowing sharply before settling back with a groan. The impact sent a shockwave through the forest floor.

  Wrighty stumbled as the earth dipped beneath him. The boy lunged without thinking, grabbing Wrighty’s arm and yanking him forward with everything he had. Pain tore through his ribs, sharp enough to steal his breath, but he didn’t let go. They ran together. The jungle thickened, paths narrowing, branches whipping past faces and shoulders. Gravel shouted directions as they moved, short, clipped commands, each one cutting through the panic.

  “Downhill! Left—now!”

  Knell suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs.

  The boy didn’t see what happened—only felt the sudden pressure shift as something passed close enough to make the air drag. Her scream broke into a gasp as the ground beneath her feet compacted violently.

  Gravel twisted mid-run and slammed his foot down and made a full turn. He grabbed Knell by the collar and hauled her forward, nearly lifting her off her feet as the ground behind her caved inward.

  The thing screamed again. Four voices overlapped, out of sync, tearing through the jungle. The sound rattled the boy’s teeth, scraped against his skull. The weight in his chest surged violently in response.

  Do something. He tried again. Focused harder. Pushed inward, forcing that pressure to collapse, to answer him.

  Yet nothing came to him. The failure hit him like ice water. His foot caught on a slick root and his body pitched forward. Pain flared so bright it nearly knocked him unconscious. He hit the ground hard, breath exploding from his lungs. Something moved behind him with incredible speed.

  Wrighty was there in an instant. He grabbed the boy by the collar and threw him forward, hurling him clear with raw, brutal strength. Wrighty planted his staff and turned, feet digging into the earth.

  “KEEP GOING!” Wrighty shouted. “MOVE!”

  The creature was almost on him. Its arm lashed out, passing inches from Wrighty’s head, the air screaming where it cut through. Wrighty ducked and ran, his body snapping forward with explosive speed that didn’t feel human. He cleared the space in two heartbeats, feet pounding, lungs burning. The boy scrambled up, vision swimming.

  “WRIGHTY!” he screamed.

  Wrighty didn’t slow. The jungle thinned abruptly into a steep, broken slope littered with loose dirt and stone. Gravel didn’t hesitate—he vaulted down, landing hard and rolling. Snow followed. Sheath slid after her. Five came last, one arm locked around Shiela, teeth clenched as he controlled the descent. The boy reached the edge just as the creature burst from the trees. It stepped forward as he reached to catch the boy. Until a stone that moved at incredible speed nailed it square in the skull. It reared back as Gravel picked up another rock and threw it once again from the bottom of the slope. This one hit a nearby tree causing it to fall onto the creature, knocking it down. Another came and hit a nearby formation of rocks causing the boulders to fall onto the creature as well. Soon these rocks strategically hit several targets which caused the creature to get buried in debris. This gave the boy enough time to slide down.

  The boy went down barely staying upright as the earth shifted beneath him. Gravel caught him at the bottom, hauling him clear just as the debris finished settling. Silence. Dust hung thick in the air. The boy’s chest heaved, every breath shallow and painful. The weight inside him churned angrily, alert, and unhelpful. Wrighty staggered over and dropped to one knee, hands on the ground, breathing hard. He looked up at the boy, eyes wide, shaken.

  “…we are alive?” he rasped.

  The boy nodded once. Gravel turned slowly, eyes scanning the collapsed slope.

  “Don’t relax,” he said quietly. “It looked like it got buried by the ground just from its own weight, but I doubt it's dead.”

  Snow swallowed. “You think it's alive ?”

  The boy stared at the packed earth, heart still hammering.

  “I don’t think that thing would ever classify as being alive, but I bet its still moving,” he said.

  As if to agree—Something shifted beneath the debris.

  A tremor. The ground pressed inward slightly. Then went still.

  And none of them believed for a second that it was over.