Doc and Mazoga rejoined the others, who had gathered near the portal entrance. Everyone's faces reflected a mix of concern and curiosity at the new threat.

  "We encountered another construct," Doc explained, rubbing his shoulder where the numbness had finally faded. "This one can phase through solid matter and appears to have some kind of energy-disruption capabilities."

  Dulric's eyes widened. "Phase through stone? That's not standard dwarven craftsmanship."

  "Yet here we are," Mazoga said.

  Dulric stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I'd like to examine the Watcher golem you disabled. There might be clues about this other construct in its design."

  Carl nodded eagerly. "I can help with that. The internal mechanisms might reveal patterns or weaknesses."

  "I want to see it too," Calen added, eyes bright with barely contained excitement.

  Doc glanced at Mazoga. "We should keep exploring. Lux—" He caught himself. "I have a way to track energy signatures similar to what that construct was emitting. Fish can sense it too."

  "I'll join you," Kesh said, adjusting his bow. "Something tells me you'll need backup if that thing decides to stop hiding."

  Mazoga nodded. "Good. Calen and I will keep watch while Dulric and Carl examine the deactivated golem. If that shadow thing returns, we'll handle it."

  Ironha approached, pressing additional healing potions into Doc's hand. "Take these. The way things usually go with you, you'll need them."

  "Appreciated," Doc said, tucking them into his belt pouch.

  As Doc, Kesh, and Fish prepared to leave, Carl called out, "Wait!" He jogged over, reaching into seemingly empty air before producing a quiver full of arrows. "Special batch," he explained, handing them to Kesh. "Modified with fragments from the cores we've been studying. They should pack enough punch to damage a golem."

  Kesh examined one of the arrows, testing its balance with practiced fingers. "Good weight. Thank you."

  "Just don't use them all in one place," Carl grinned.

  Doc nodded to Mazoga. "We'll be back soon. If anything changes, we retreat to the portal immediately."

  "Agreed," she replied. "Don't take unnecessary risks."

  Doc, Kesh, and Fish moved deeper into the complex, following a wide corridor that branched off from the main chamber. The blue-white rune-strips embedded in the ceiling cast cold light across the seamless stonework.

  "Which way?" Kesh asked at a junction.

  Doc paused, closing his eyes briefly. "Left," he said after a moment, opening his eyes. "The energy signature is stronger in that direction."

  Fish moved ahead, her midnight fur almost disappearing in the shadows between light sources. Her movements were cautious but confident, pausing occasionally to sniff the air or prick her ears toward some sound beyond human hearing.

  "She's tracking something," Kesh observed quietly.

  "Yes," Doc agreed. "Her senses are far more attuned to these... things than ours."

  They passed several smaller chambers—some containing dormant forge equipment, others filled with stone bunks and empty shelves. Everything was pristinely preserved, as if the inhabitants had simply walked away moments ago rather than centuries.

  "No signs of conflict," Kesh noted. "No battle damage"

  "Intentional abandonment," Doc agreed. "But why?"

  Fish suddenly stopped, her attention fixed on a section of wall ahead. Unlike the previous encounter, she didn't growl—instead, her posture became utterly still, every muscle tensed in silent alert.

  "It's there," Doc whispered, hand moving to his weapon. "Watching us."

  Kesh silently nocked one of Carl's special arrows, his movements fluid and practiced.

  "Don't attack unless it moves first," Doc cautioned. "Let's see what it does."

  Fish remained motionless, her eyes fixed on the wall section that seemed to shimmer slightly. The hairs along her spine stood rigid, but she made no sound.

  "Something's wrong," Doc muttered. His bionic hand registered a faint energy fluctuation—not where they were looking, but behind them.

  Fish suddenly spun, a deep growl erupting from her throat as she faced an entirely different direction.

  Doc's instincts kicked in. "Authorization: Delta-Seven-Omega," he whispered.

  The world slowed around him as his H.O.T. Protocol activated. His perception sharpened, adrenaline flooding his system as combat overlays flickered across his vision. Lux highlighted threat patterns, calculating trajectories and identifying structural weaknesses.

  Doc pivoted instantly, drawing his plasma gun in one fluid motion. The air in front of him rippled, and a lean, black construct materialized mid-strike, its arm elongated into a blade aimed at his throat.

  Doc fired.

  The plasma bolt struck the construct dead center, sending it reeling backward. Its horizontal eye-slit flared violet with what might have been surprise.

  "Shade Unit," Lux reported through their neural link. "Phase-capable. Similar to the previous one. Disruption abilities focused in the limbs."

  "Behind you!" Kesh shouted, already loosing one of Carl's special arrows.

  The arrow struck the construct's shoulder joint, embedding itself with a burst of energy that momentarily disrupted its form. The golem's outline wavered like heat over stone.

  "It was projecting a decoy," Doc called out, circling to create distance. "Fish, flank!"

  Fish disappeared in a violet blur, phasing through reality to reappear at the construct's side. She lunged, teeth closing on its arm just as it tried to phase through the floor.

  The construct emitted a discordant hum, its free hand striking Fish with a pulse that sent her tumbling across the stone. It disappeared completely into the floor, leaving only ripples in the stone.

  Movement patterns suggest hit-and-fade tactics Lux analyzed. It's disoriented but adapting to our responses.

  Kesh backed against a pillar, another arrow nocked. "Where—"

  The wall beside him erupted outward as the construct emerged, arm extended toward Kesh's chest. Doc lunged forward, holstering his gun and drawing the baton in one motion. He brought it down on the construct's extended arm with all his enhanced strength.

  The cores in the baton flared blue-white on impact. A concussive wave rippled through the golem's form, shattering the stone beneath them and forcing the construct fully into physical reality.

  "Now!" Doc shouted.

  Kesh's arrow struck true, penetrating the golem's chest. Fish reappeared in a blur of motion, clamping down on its leg. Doc pressed the advantage, striking again with the baton. Each hit released a pulse of energy that seemed to interfere with the construct's phasing ability.

  The golem twisted with unnatural flexibility, its arm connecting with Doc's chest. Pain lanced through him as his systems briefly flickered—the paralyzes effect.

  Neural interface destabilizing, Lux warned. Fifteen seconds to recalibration.

  Doc staggered back, his vision clouding momentarily. The construct broke free from Fish and surged toward him, sensing vulnerability.

  "Doc!" Kesh loosed another arrow, this one grazing the construct's head.

  The distraction was enough. Doc regained his footing and swung the baton in a wide arc. It connected with the construct's midsection, the stored energy discharging in a thunderclap of force that sent the golem careening into the wall.

  For a moment, the construct stood motionless, its violet eye-slit flickering erratically. Then, with a sound like rushing air, it melted backward into the stone, disappearing completely.

  "It's retreating," Kesh said, arrow still drawn. "But where?"

  "Don't know," Doc replied, breathing heavily as his protocol began to wind down. "We need to find it before it can regroup and repair."

  Fish circled the spot where the construct had vanished, sniffing cautiously before returning to Doc's side.

  "Can you track it?" Doc asked her.

  Fish looked up at him, then deliberately turned her head toward a corridor they hadn't yet explored.

  "I think we have our answer," Doc said.

  Doc and Kesh moved through the winding corridors of the dwarven complex, following Fish's lead. The air grew colder as they descended deeper, carrying a metallic tang that coated Doc's tongue. Their footsteps echoed against the seamless stone walls despite their attempts at stealth.

  "It's damage but still dangerous," Doc whispered, . "These things don't fight fair."

  Kesh nodded, one of Carl's special arrows nocked loosely against his bowstring. "Nothing down here does."

  The rune-strips embedded in the ceiling flickered intermittently, casting shifting shadows that played tricks on their vision. In some sections, the lights had failed completely, leaving pools of absolute darkness between islands of cold blue illumination.

  "Lux, any patterns to these energy fluctuations?" Doc subvocalized.

  Negative. Light disruption appears random, though possibly influenced by our quarry's movement through the walls.

  Fish paused at an intersection, her nose twitching as she sampled the air. The fur along her spine rippled with faint violet energy—a response to something beyond human perception. She turned left, toward a narrow corridor that sloped downward.

  The passage narrowed as they descended, forcing them to proceed single-file. The walls here were different, etched with intricate dwarven glyphs that pulsed with faint amber light when approached. The air hummed with barely perceptible vibration.

  "We're entering some kind of specialized section," Doc observed, running his bionic fingers along the glyphs. "These markings are different from the ones above."

  Kesh inhaled sharply. "Smells different. Like the air before lightning strikes."

  Doc's skin prickled with static electricity. The metal components in his prosthetic arm responded to the ambient charge, sending tiny jolts up to his elbow.

  Fish suddenly froze, her body lowering into a hunting crouch. Ahead, the corridor opened into a hexagonal chamber with a domed ceiling. Six doorways branched off in different directions, and in the center stood a raised platform ringed with more elaborate runes.

  "It's here," Doc breathed, his hand tightening around the baton. "Fish senses it."

  Kesh drew his bow to full tension. "Where?"

  Before Doc could answer, the lights flickered and died, plunging them into darkness. A heartbeat later, the runes along the walls flared to life, casting the chamber in eerie amber light that seemed to bend unnaturally around certain spaces.

  "Defensive position," Doc ordered, backing against a wall. "It's trying to separate us."

  A whisper of movement came from Doc's left—then his right. Contradictory sounds, impossibly fast.

  Illusions Lux warned. Thermal and audio decoys detected.

  Fish growled low in her throat, her eyes tracking something invisible to human perception. Her muscles bunched, ready to spring.

  "Movement," Kesh whispered, pivoting slowly. "Three o'clock, then nine, then—"

  The air shimmered, and a black silhouette lunged from the wall directly at Kesh. Its arm extended into a blade-like appendage aimed at his throat.

  "Decoy!" Doc shouted, already diving toward Kesh's actual position, ten feet to the left of where he appeared to be standing.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  The real Shade Unit emerged from the floor beneath Kesh, its violet eye-slit flaring with deadly intent. Fish blurred into motion, her form partially phasing as she intercepted the construct mid-strike. Her jaws closed on empty air as the golem shifted phases, but the disruption bought Kesh enough time to roll away.

  Doc's head throbbed as he made a split-second decision. "Authorization: Delta-Seven-Omega."

  The world slowed as his hot protocol re-engaged. Pain lanced through his already-strained muscles, but his perception sharpened instantly. Lux overlaid his vision with predictive trajectories, highlighting distortions in the air where the construct's true form moved between phases.

  Pattern detected, Lux reported. It's maintaining decoys in three positions while attacking from a fourth. Phase shift requires 2.7 seconds of recalibration after each attack.

  The construct flickered between solid and incorporeal states, trying to confuse them with multiple partial manifestations. It created three convincing illusions of itself while the real body attacked from unexpected angles.

  "Kesh!" Doc called. "Shoot at the northwest corner on my mark!"

  The hunter nodded, adjusting his aim without question.

  Doc feinted toward one of the decoys, deliberately telegraphing his movement. As expected, the real construct lunged from a different direction, attempting to strike his exposed back.

  "Now!"

  Kesh's arrow flew true, striking the stone where the construct was about to emerge. The impact sent cracks through the floor, disrupting the golem's phase-shift and forcing it fully into material form.

  Doc pivoted, bringing his baton down in a vicious arc. The cores flared as it connected with the construct's shoulder, discharging a concussive blast that sent the golem staggering back.

  The construct's eye-slit flickered as it fought to maintain coherence. It lurched forward, movements stuttering like broken clockwork. One arm elongated impossibly, sweeping toward Doc's head while the other formed a blade aimed at his chest—a desperate two-pronged attack.

  Doc twisted sideways, the blade-arm passing inches from his face. His muscles screamed in protest as he pushed his already overtaxed body. The H.O.T. protocol was burning through his reserves faster than his nanites could compensate.

  Systemic strain approaching critical levels Lux warned. Recommend immediate disengagement.

  Doc ignored the warning. The construct's defenses were failing—this was their chance.

  "It's phasing pattern is destabilizing," he called to Kesh, who circled to the left, another arrow nocked. "We need to hit it while it's reforming!"

  The golem's form wavered, its outline blurring as it attempted to phase through the floor. Three translucent copies of itself began to form around the chamber—illusions meant to confuse and divide their attention.

  Fish's ears flattened against her skull. She locked eyes with Doc for the briefest moment—a silent exchange that needed no words. Doc shifted his weight slightly, tilting his head toward the construct's right flank.

  Without hesitation, Fish disappeared in a blur of violet energy. She reappeared behind the golem, her jaws clamping down on its leg joint with perfect timing. The construct's phase shift faltered, forcing it back into material form.

  Structural weakness detected Lux highlighted a glowing runic matrix in the center of the golem's chest. Central phase control. Must be struck during decoy reformation cycle.

  Doc nodded to Kesh, who had already identified the same weakness. The hunter drew his bow in one fluid motion, exhaling slowly as he tracked the golem's erratic movements.

  "Now!" Doc shouted.

  Kesh's arrow flew true, striking the construct's foot and pinning it to the platform in a burst of energy. The arrow's core fragments discharged on impact, creating a localized disruption field that temporarily anchored the golem in place.

  The construct writhed, its form flickering between solid and ethereal as it struggled to free itself. Its illusions wavered, losing coherence as the central matrix fought to stabilize.

  Doc's prosthetic arm vibrated painfully, feedback warnings flashing across his vision. The bionic fingers trembled, servos grinding as they approached their operational limits. He gripped the baton tighter, ignoring the shooting pain up his arm.

  "This is going to hurt," he muttered, charging forward.

  Doc swung the baton with everything he had left, driving it directly into the pulsing matrix at the center of the golem's chest. The cores in the weapon flared white-hot on impact, discharging their stored energy in a single devastating pulse.

  The construct went rigid. Its violet eye-slit brightened to blinding intensity, then shattered outward in a silent explosion of crystalline shards. Cracks spread across its form like lightning through glass, each one leaking violet light.

  Its illusions fractured simultaneously, hanging in the air like broken mirrors before dissolving into motes of light. A high-pitched whine built in intensity, vibrating through Doc's teeth and bones, then abruptly cut out—leaving a silence so complete it felt physical.

  The golem collapsed, its form imploding rather than falling apart. What remained was a twisted heap of black alloy and stone, still faintly outlined with dying runes.

  Doc dropped to one knee, the baton slipping from his fingers. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, each one sending fresh waves of pain through his ribs. The H.O.T. protocol disengaged, leaving him drained and shaking.

  "Multiple system warnings," Lux reported. "Heartrate elevated, blood pressure dropping, muscle tissue showing microtears. Nanite repair capabilities at 32% efficiency."

  Fish padded to Doc's side, pressing her nose against his ribs. Her fur still rippled with residual energy, violet patterns shifting beneath the black.

  Kesh approached cautiously, bow lowered but not stowed. "You alright?"

  Doc nodded, not trusting himself to speak yet. He reached toward the collapsed construct, fingers closing around a cracked, pulsing crystal at its center. The core came free with a soft click, still flickering with unstable energy.

  Shade Unit neutralized, Lux confirmed. Residual field energy dispersing. Core remains partially active.

  Doc turned the phase core in his hand, studying its twisted, fractured structure. Even damaged, it radiated power—raw, untamed, and dangerously reactive.

  "Two down," he finally managed, his voice rough. "Who knows how many more to go."

  Kesh studied the fallen construct, its twisted metal frame still crackling with residual energy. The hunt had been unlike anything he'd experienced—even phase wolves moved with predictable patterns once you understood their nature. This thing moved like thought itself, leaving only afterimages and whispers.

  Doc fumbled with his belt pouch and extracted a small vial filled with amber liquid—one of Ironha's healing potions. He downed it in a single swallow, grimacing at the bitter aftertaste.

  Kesh expected the usual gradual healing process, having seen countless potions at work. Instead, Doc's breathing steadied within moments. The color returned to his face, and the tremor in his prosthetic hand stabilized. Doc rose to his feet with unexpected ease, rolling his shoulders as if he'd merely taken a brief rest rather than survived a life-threatening battle.

  "Well," Doc said, tapping the collapsed golem with his boot, "at least we won't have to butcher this one like we did the monster from the forest."

  Kesh laughed—a short, surprised sound that echoed against the stone walls. Doc always found ways to make light of situations that would leave others trembling. Facing death with a shrug and a dry comment seemed to be his way.

  "We should head back," Kesh nodded. "Tell the others we've eliminated the shade."

  The return journey through the ancient dwarven halls gave Kesh time to observe details he'd missed during the hunt. The air carried a metallic tang beneath the mustiness, like iron filings suspended in cold breath. Their footsteps produced hollow echoes against the seamless stone floor—not cut blocks but somehow poured and hardened into a single unbroken surface. Dulric would want to know about that technique.

  They passed an alcove lined with rune-etched plates. The symbols weren't like modern dwarven script; they had fewer angles, more curves.

  Kesh ran his fingers over the strange runes, feeling a subtle vibration that reminded him of the low hum a monster core makes right after extraction. These weren't just decorative—they held power, dormant but present.

  "Dulric will know what these mean," he murmured, more to himself than to Doc.

  Though he'd only known the dwarf for a year and a half and they barely spoke in the village, Kesh recognized a kindred spirit. They'd both walked the warrior's path before seeking quieter lives. During long nights at the forge, Dulric had shared fragments of his past between hammer strikes—tales of dwarven legions, of shield walls and siege engines. The dwarf spoke of battle with the weary respect of someone who'd seen too much of it.

  Kesh understood that weariness. Before settling as a village hunter, he'd worn the silver-tipped arrow insignia of the Hunters Guild. Fifteen years tracking apex predators across three territories had taught him everything about monsters—and about loss. He'd buried more companions than he cared to count, watched skilled hunters reduced to wet scraps of meat by creatures that had no right existing in a sane world.

  "Coming?" Doc called from ahead, Fish padding silently at his side.

  Kesh nodded, trailing his hand away from the runes. "Just looking."

  The final hunt that broke him had been a contract on a Bloodmist Serpent in the Jagged Peaks. Three days of tracking through blizzard conditions. Five hunters entered the serpent's cavern. Only Kesh and one other emerged. After that, the choice was simple: continue until something finally killed him, or walk away.

  He'd chosen a small village on the edge of moderately dangerous hunting grounds—enough challenge to keep his skills sharp, but nothing that should have threatened his life. No one could have predicted the bandits, the captivity, or being trapped in the Hollow Vale.

  A bitter laugh escaped him as they rounded the final corner toward the gateway chamber.

  "Something funny?" Doc asked.

  "Life," Kesh replied. "I left the guild to avoid dying to monsters. Now I'm hunting things that would make veteran guildmasters hesitate."

  "Regrets?"

  Kesh considered the question as they stepped into the open chamber where the others waited. Carl and Dulric were already dismantling the deactivated Watcher, their hands moving with the focused precision of craftsmen unraveling a puzzle. Mazoga stood watch nearby, her posture alert despite hours of standing guard.

  "No," Kesh finally answered. "Different monsters, same skills. At least these ones aren't hunting me for sport."

  Mazoga approached as they entered, her eyes quickly scanning them for injuries. "Report," she said, the command softened by genuine concern.

  Doc gestured to the crystal core he carried. "Shade Unit neutralized. Moves through solid matter, creates illusions, and strikes with some kind of energy-disrupting appendage."

  "Found it in a hexagonal chamber with amber runes," Kesh added. "Seemed like some kind of control room. There are more rune panels in the corridors leading back—not like any dwarven script I've seen before."

  Mazoga nodded. "Dulric says this place predates the Great Clan Wars. Different dialect, different crafting methods."

  "Did you secure the area beyond the chamber?" she asked, already thinking ahead.

  "As much as we could," Kesh replied. "No other constructs detected, but there are at least three sealed doors we couldn't access. Ancient dwarven locks—not something we could force without risking collapse."

  Kesh watched as Maz surveyed the ancient dwarven chamber, her amber eyes taking in every detail with the practiced scrutiny of someone who'd commanded troops before. Her posture shifted from combat-ready to something more deliberate—the stance of a leader weighing options.

  "We have a defensive position here," she finally said, nodding toward the arched entrance. "We'll camp for the night. Rest and recover."

  She glanced over at Dulric and Carl, who were already deep in conversation over the deactivated Watcher, their hands moving in tandem as they extracted components with the reverence of scholars handling ancient texts.

  "Don't think those two would leave unless I dragged them out anyway," she added with a dry chuckle. "We've got enough dry rations to go around. We'll watch in shifts."

  Kesh approved of her caution. Too many hunters died from exhaustion, pushing forward when they should have rested. The Hollow Vale had taught them all the value of patience.

  "Once we're rested," Maz continued, "we'll explore the rest of this place. Calen, Ironha, and Carl will remain here to keep the gateway and our way out secure. The rest of us will continue on."

  Kesh nodded, appreciating the strategy. In unknown territory, securing retreat was always the first priority. He'd seen entire hunting parties wiped out because they'd ventured too far from their escape route.

  "I'll let Dulric know what we found," he said, moving toward the dwarf.

  Kesh approached Dulric and Carl, who were kneeling beside the deactivated Watcher. Their hands moved with surprising synchronicity—Carl's nimble fingers tracing power channels while Dulric's broader grip tested structural integrity. The construct's bronze limbs lay partially disassembled, revealing intricate internal mechanisms unlike anything in modern forges.

  "Found something you should see," Kesh said, crouching beside them. "Hexagonal chamber deeper in, walls covered with amber runes. Not like anything I've seen before."

  Dulric's thick fingers paused over a crystalline node. "Amber, you say? Not blue or white?"

  "Amber. Almost honey-colored. They seemed to pulse when we moved near them." Kesh traced a shape in the air. "Curved, not angular like modern rune-script. And the hallways leading there—the stone isn't laid in blocks. It's all one piece, like it was poured and hardened."

  Dulric's eyes widened. "Flowstone crafting. Haven't seen that since—" He stopped himself, stroking his beard. "Well, haven't seen it outside ancient texts."

  "There's more," Kesh continued. "The chamber had six sides, each wall carved with these symbols that seemed to... respond when we moved. And there were metal tracks in the floor leading to a central pedestal. The pedestal had a depression like something was meant to rest there."

  "Control chamber," Dulric muttered. "Has to be."

  Carl looked up from the construct's exposed core housing. "Control for what?"

  "In the old colonies, before the Clan Wars, we built differently." Dulric's voice took on the cadence of recitation. "Flowstone was shaped by resonance, not chisel. The amber runes would be maintenance protocols—designed to regulate structural integrity without constant oversight."

  Kesh shook his head. "There was something else. When the shade attacked us, it came through one of the walls. But not just any wall—it emerged from a section where the stone looked... different. Darker, almost like obsidian, but not reflective."

  Dulric's expression sharpened. "Phase-conduit material. Expensive stuff, even back then. Only used in high-security installations." He glanced at the deactivated Watcher. "This wasn't just some outpost. It was something important."

  "There were these recessed alcoves, too," Kesh added. "Dozens of them along one corridor, each about the size of a person, but empty. And above each one, a small crystal that looked burnt out."

  The dwarf's fingers drummed against his thigh—a habit Kesh had noticed whenever Dulric was piecing together something complex.

  "Golem storage," Dulric finally said. "The crystals would be stabilizers—keeps the constructs dormant until needed." He looked at the Watcher again. "This wasn't just important. It was a forge-colony. A place where they made these things."

  Carl's eyes lit up. "So there could be more of them? Maybe even incomplete ones we could study?"

  "Aye, lad. But that's not all." Dulric's voice lowered. "If I'm right about the flowstone and the amber runes, this place is old. Before the Sundering old. When dwarven runesmiths still remembered the deeper arts."

  Kesh didn't understand the significance, but he recognized reverence when he heard it. "Is that good or bad for us?"

  "Both," Dulric replied, rising to his feet with a grunt. "Good because the craftsmanship would be unmatched—everything built to last millennia. Bad because the security would be equally robust." He gestured to the Watcher. "This guardian is just the outer defense. If there's a forge-heart deeper in, it'll have much stronger protections."

  Kesh remembered one last detail. "There was a vertical shaft, too. Smooth walls with glowing lines running down them. Some kind of platform at the bottom, but it wasn't moving."

  Dulric nodded slowly. "Lift chamber. The glowing lines would be fire-aspect stabilizers—keeps the platform from dropping too fast." He turned to Carl. "We'll need to find the control runes to activate it. Probably a hand-plate or resonance key nearby."

  Kesh stepped away from the animated conversation, leaving Dulric and Carl to their excited muttering about flowstone and ancient forge techniques. The dwarf had already disappeared into his own world, fingers tracing invisible patterns in the air as he recalled knowledge from texts most had never seen. There was no reaching him now—not until he'd exhausted whatever revelation had gripped him.

  Kesh found a quiet corner where the chamber's perfect acoustics created a pocket of relative silence. He leaned against the cool stone wall, allowing his heightened senses to settle. The Stalker's Pulse ability he'd gained from the Bramblelash core had been useful during the hunt, but left him overstimulated afterward—too aware of every vibration, every shift in air pressure.

  From his vantage point, he observed the others. Mazoga directed Calen and Ironha to set up a small camp near the portal, her gestures efficient and purposeful. She never shouted orders like so many leaders he'd known—just spoke with the quiet certainty that she would be obeyed. Doc knelt beside Fish, examining her for injuries with gentle hands while murmuring something too low to hear. The wolf's ears twitched occasionally in response, as if they were having a proper conversation.

  It was all oddly... wholesome.

  Kesh's fingers found the worn grip of his hunting knife, thumb tracing the familiar pattern carved into the hilt.

  Kesh watched as Doc helped Ironha unpack medical supplies, the man's movements precise despite his prosthetic arm. Carl darted between the deactivated constructs, taking measurements with improvised tools. Mazoga stood guard near the portal, her posture alert despite hours of vigilance. Dulric's rumbling voice carried across the chamber as he explained something to Calen, who listened with characteristic focus.

  They were all far from where they'd planned to be. All adapting. All surviving.

  He didn't regret staying. Not anymore. This wasn't the quiet retirement he'd imagined for himself—a small cabin, predictable hunts, evenings spent maintaining gear rather than using it. But here, his skills hadn't dulled. His instincts still saved lives. His arrows still flew true.

  He was still needed.

  Kesh pushed himself away from the wall and rejoined the group without ceremony. Mazoga glanced his way, eyebrow raised in silent question.

  He nodded once, a small gesture that required no explanation.

  I'm in this.

  Thank you for reading!

  Chapter 37 arrives Tuesday