A NEW BEGINNING

Excerpt from The Bestiary of Old Times:

“Since ancient times, people have believed that the shadows of the night are not empty. They say that in the wastelands roam beasts that are neither animals nor humans, outcasts from another world. It is said that human blood gives them strength and memory. In the Isadorian Mountains, a tale is told of the Long-Armed, who feed on the souls of lost travelers, while in the Holdan Lake region, the waters are guarded by the Wide-Eyed One, whose gaze robs you of your will.

The greatest fear, however, is reserved for those who belong nowhere. Creatures without a home, without a conscience, without a form. One of them is the Sleeper, a specter from the depths of the earth, whose arrival means death is closer than life. They say he hides where voices vanish into echoes, and in the eyes of those who have seen him, only emptiness remains forever.”

Reng, southeastern region of the Reach

Reng stared thoughtfully at the armor lying in front of him. At first glance, its matte surface seemed untouched, without a single scratch or blemish. And yet, he saw them. All the gouges from hits it had taken, the dark smudges of mud and blood someone had carefully washed away in an attempt to erase the past. They were there. Every mission, every deployment etched permanently into his mind. The mobzar might have been able to erase memories, but it couldn’t reach his dreams. That’s why he despised the thing so deeply, because he kept seeing it in his sleep, kept seeing everything the person sealed inside that armor had done. Still, he would have to put it on again, go out again, do what he was made to do.

Another order had come. Another mission out there he wouldn’t remember. Only the armor would carry the marks of what happened, and his dreams would be richer by another wave of cruelty and violence.

“You better move your ass, we don’t have all day,” muttered Borin as he passed by, already fully geared up. He carried his helmet under one arm and strutted with smug confidence. Borin had been born for this role. He was no longer the foul-mouthed wrangler brat causing trouble. Now he led the entire squad of modifikants and probably didn’t even dream anymore.

Reng didn’t bother responding. What was there to say? That the mere thought of what might await them made him sick? Borin would just laugh, of that he was sure. So instead, he obeyed. He stood and began fastening the armor piece by piece. All the while, a question echoed in his mind: was there any way out?

Could he just vanish?

As he attached the last part of the armor, he paused. He ran his fingers across the cold metal one more time and shook his head. No. The Beacon wouldn’t let him go. How long would it take them to find him? A day, maybe two? Probably not even that. They’d make sure he disappeared quickly. A modifikant who ran was a threat to the symbol they represented. They were supposed to be perfect. Perfection couldn’t be allowed to fail. He felt a rising unease crawl under his skin. It wasn’t just fear anymore. It was disgust, for what they had turned him into.

Fully geared at last, he joined two other modifikants from the squad. Together, they headed toward the launch ramp, where a waiting horus was already powered up. Inside sat a grinning Borin, his mechanical arm glinting as he waved at Reng in greeting.

“Thought you’d given up,” he chuckled.

“As if I could,” Reng shot back and took a seat opposite him.

That’s when he noticed Miren sitting next to Borin. It caught him off guard, she belonged to the second unit, and they weren’t deployed today.

“Orders from above,” she said before he could ask. She had read the surprise in his eyes with ease. “Looks like they want to mix our teams gradually, get us synced.”

It made sense, but Reng could tell that Miren looked noticeably more tense than usual. In fact, he’d already noticed her deepening changes and understood them. Since his first deployment, he had been through twenty more. Each one left a kind of invisible mark. Miren had been here much longer, and now she looked as if she carried the weight of the entire world on her shoulders. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before he looked the same. What made it worse was the bitter realization that most modifikants didn’t seem to show any of those scars.

For example, Borin settled into his seat as if heading off to a picnic, casually exchanging a few carefree remarks with the two other modifikants who had joined them. All three of them looked relaxed, as if they were actually looking forward to the mission. Reng didn’t believe they were faking it, which meant the Beacon could truly be proud of them. Unlike him and Miren, these ones were the perfect product.

Just before takeoff, two officers from the Prim Guard boarded the transport. The markings on their uniforms indicated they were negotiators. That suggested that if everything went according to plan, the modifikants wouldn’t be needed today. He had taken part in missions like that before, and he often considered them worse than the ones he couldn’t remember. Because in these, he saw the way people looked at them. And he remembered well how they spoke of them. Sometimes they were met with near-religious reverence and fascination, which, to him, might have been worse than a contemptuous spit or open fear. The first was an illusion. The second, common sense.

The horus lifted off the ground, and his stomach clenched in pain again. He closed his eyes and focused on the rhythmic sound of the rotors. It was like a monotonous song, pulling him into the depths. He had no idea how long they’d been flying. He only sensed that they were heading for another point on the map that would cost him another piece of his soul.

He listened to the quiet conversation between Borin and the officers, who were going over the details of the operation.

“Our target is a man claiming he used to be with the Gatherers. When you scattered them back during the munitions depot attack, he wasn’t there. That’s the only reason he survived. But once he saw what was left of Old Man’s group, he decided to disappear,” one of the officers explained.

“I’d really like to know why,” Borin sneered, earning amused chuckles from the officers.

“Anyway, command believes he might have intel that could help us locate the rest of them.”

“Of course he does. So now he’s suddenly a witness who wants to milk it for all it’s worth,” Borin snorted. “I know that type too well. Some coward who pissed himself in a corner. Bet he knows jack shit.”

“Probably,” the officer agreed, “but we can’t afford to ignore any lead on how to find them. If he ran from them, he should have their last coordinates.”

“Or he made the whole thing up just to feel important.”

“That’s a possibility too. The Gatherers definitely seem to have gone dark, and it’s been a while since they made any moves. But we still know their leader is alive. As long as he’s breathing, he and anyone following him will always be a problem that has to be eliminated.”

Reng, who had just realized they were talking about the Old Man, drew a breath to say something, but then thought better of it. Not only would no one care about his opinion, but it also didn’t seem wise to admit he knew the man. Who knew how that might be interpreted.

“Anyway, our guy is currently with a group that lives off what they scavenge in the Raj,” the officer continued.

“Scrappers?”

Reng raised an eyebrow at Borin’s question. This really didn’t sound like the kind of situation where modifikants were needed.

“Probably,” the uniformed man nodded, then shrugged. “There are tons of groups like that out there. Useless drifters, but if they stay out of trouble and only take what’s left behind, we let them be. Better to have them cleaning up other people’s messes than stirring up trouble in the oases.”

“Fine, doesn’t sound complicated,” Borin concluded. “So we grab the guy alive, beat the coordinates out of him, and then what?”

The officer let out a genuine laugh. “Best case, he ends up in a penal colony and we head back so command can decide the next move.”

“So we’re not going straight after the Scavengers?” Reng finally couldn’t hold back and joined the conversation.

The officer shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I think the guy will start talking the moment he sees you. People like that are terrified of you, so it’s easier to extract what we need.”

“So you’re dragging four modifikants along just to act as bogeymen?”

Even Borin was beginning to doubt whether this wasn’t overkill.

“Well... not exactly,” the officer admitted with some hesitation. “There’s a second part to the mission. We got a report about an anomaly in the area.”

Everyone on board exchanged puzzled looks. It was clear none of them had any idea what he was talking about.

“You’ve never heard of them?”

“Should we have?” Borin frowned, clearly unhappy they were walking into something none of them had been briefed on.

“People call them Sleepers.”

“I know those,” Miren cut in, though it was obvious she wasn’t sure if they were talking about the same thing. “Back in Oko Lahab, they used to scare little kids with stories about them. I always thought they were just bedtime tales, but then a tenant who was chasing after my mother swore he’d seen one with his own eyes.”

“And what did he say?” Reng asked. He had never heard anything like this before. Was it possible that Karhen Rouz had no experience with them? Probably, because if something like that had happened there, the locals would definitely remember and talk about it.

“That what he saw wasn’t an animal. But it wasn’t a person either. Something in between,” Miren said thoughtfully, recalling the tenant’s words. “Like it belonged to us, but at the same time was something alien. What scared me most in that story was how he described its gaze. Empty, but it supposedly filled your entire mind and stole everything inside. Memories, dreams, thoughts.”

“Sounds like pure bullshit,” Borin snorted, and Miren just shrugged.

“Maybe. Anyway, the creature wiped out his whole caravan, and he only survived because he ended up buried under some cargo and lost consciousness. It didn’t go after him, only those who were awake. But that happened something like three decades ago, so what do I know.”

“I think I know which case you’re talking about,” the officer nodded. “It was a big topic back then. And no one ever caught the creature. Maybe something killed it, or it died of old age, but things were quiet for a long time. Until now. One of those things was spotted in the area we’re headed to. That’s why the Beacon decided to bring you along.”

“So we’re actually going on a hunt for... what, exactly? A predator? Or some ghost out of a children’s tale?” asked one of the other modifikants. Reng recalled his name, Neron. The other was Zerik.

“I wouldn’t laugh too much. That last one took out a group of twenty armed men. All by itself,” the officer said with a frown. He clearly didn’t appreciate that no one except Miren seemed to take this seriously.

Borin, however, just smirked again and rolled his eyes. He clearly had his own opinion on the matter.

Reng shut his eyes again and turned inward. He tried to keep his thoughts steady. If everything went well, nothing would go wrong today. They’d grab the guy and be done with it. And if not? Then they’d go on a hunt. Simple. If only things were always that simple.

***

Despite all that, the locals seemed surprisingly welcoming.

The negotiations, it appeared, began without a hitch. Reng paced nearby, half-listening as the gathered settlers adopted a friendly tone. Almost immediately, they confirmed that a man had indeed shown up recently, claiming he had left the Gatherers. But right now, he wasn’t there. The locals had sent him out with a few others on a “hunt,” which was their term for scavenging. According to them, a caravan had broken down a few hours from here, and someone had already hit it. Now, like true scavengers, they were going to take care of what was left.

Is that legal? Probably, Reng thought. Why wouldn’t it be? Those abandoned goods would just sit there until someone picked them up or nature swallowed them. Rarely was anything valuable enough to justify sending out a second caravan to recover it. If it really mattered, people made sure nothing “accidental” ever happened in the first place. So this was likely something no one cared enough to protect, but that could still be useful to the locals.

“When should they be back?” one of the guards asked.

“Who knows? Today, maybe tomorrow. But more likely tomorrow. No one likes traveling at night,” replied one of the locals with little interest.

“This is going to take forever,” Borin muttered under his helmet, stopping a short distance from Reng. His tone betrayed his impatience. Borin hated wasting time.

“If they mark the caravan’s location on the map, we could fly out and intercept him,” Reng suggested.

“That flying junk heap isn’t exactly subtle. The second they spot it, they’ll scatter before we even touch down,” Borin objected, his voice edged with sarcasm.

Reng had to admit he was right, even if he disliked the tone, that thinly veiled attempt to assert dominance.

“So we go on foot?” he said at last, calmly.

Borin hesitated before nodding in agreement. “The officers will stay here with Neron. They’d just slow us down. And they can make sure no one warns that bastard.”

The modifikant Borin had named gave a quick wave to show he understood, and the others, Reng, Miren, and Zerik, set off in the direction the scrappers had indicated.

Twilight came faster than they expected. Dark shadows stretched around them like long fingers as the group moved through the rocky terrain. The path was far more difficult than the scrappers had let on, full of obstacles they had to either climb over or find a way around. In many ways, it reminded Reng of one of the simulations they were constantly pushed through, right to the edge of exhaustion. That’s why he knew the key was to maintain a solid pace. He kept his eyes fixed ahead and only occasionally glanced back at Miren, who stayed close behind him. She seemed tense, clearly keeping her distance from Borin on purpose to avoid his jabs. It looked like even she had grown tired of him.

“Is it much farther?” Reng asked as the second crescent rose over the horizon, just as thin as its first nocturnal brother. It was clear that tonight would be darker than was convenient for them.

“We’re almost there,” answered Zerik, who was leading the group. His hand remained on his weapon, and Reng noticed that even he seemed unusually tense. “Assuming they didn’t lie to us.”

Assuming they didn’t, Reng echoed silently, considering just how likely it was they were walking into some kind of trap. With each step, the odds seemed to grow. The silence around them felt wrong. He knew what the wild sounded like at dusk. The howls of small predators, the creaking and chirping of night insects, broken by the agitated chattering of hravs fighting over the best roosts. But here, there was only dead silence, broken by their steps in the sand and the faint mechanical creak of their armor.

Twilight had deepened into a heavy night, sliced through only by the beams of their helmet lights.

And then they finally saw their destination. The caravan loomed against the night sky, its silhouette of abandoned wagons bleak and motionless. According to the settlers, this was where the group they were after had gone, but Reng would have sworn no one alive was out there. He had expected to see the glow of a camp where they’d decided to stay the night, but everything was cloaked in blackness.

Then he stumbled over the first body.

“Hold up,” he hissed, and all of them froze at once.

They looked around cautiously, and the beams from their lights gradually revealed more bodies scattered among the abandoned vehicles.

Scrappers, Reng thought as he knelt by the nearest corpse. It was still warm, they had died recently.

“What the hell happened here?” Miren whispered, her voice shaky, though everyone knew the question didn’t need an answer.

Reng said nothing. He turned one of the bodies face up and revealed deep wounds across the chest and abdomen, wounds no human could have inflicted.

A pack of leerds?

No. Leerds could have killed them, sure, but it would’ve looked different. And they would have guarded their kill. Here, there was only the brutal aftermath of slaughter. No signs, no tracks, nothing to explain why these people had died.

“Do you think it’s still here?” Miren whispered as she scanned the darkness, and they all knew exactly what she meant.

Reng’s expression darkened even more. He was still searching for a rational explanation for what lay before him, but deep down he knew it was useless. This had to be the work of the anomaly, the Sleeper, the one the officers had spoken of.

A chill slipped beneath his skin, and suddenly he felt as if someone else had taken up residence in his mind, watching everything through his own eyes. He blinked, disoriented, and shook his head as if he could dislodge the intruder. The feeling vanished as quickly as it had come, but he tensed instinctively. He heard faint, nearly silent footsteps in the distance. He stared into the dark, just like the others. He wasn’t the only one who heard it, or felt it.

“You think that’s the Sleeper they were talking about?” Zerik asked, the safety on his weapon clicking off as he readied for the worst.

Reng caught a flicker of movement at the edge of his vision. Something darted past, too fast to see clearly. But then it hit him... he’d seen this before.

A memory from a simulation flashed through his mind. Ela collapsing in terror beneath the weight of a creature that haunted the virtual maze... A cold shiver ran through him. Until now, he had believed that had been nothing more than one of Tonot’s twisted ideas, something he’d programmed into the simulation. He’d thought it was absurd, yet Tonot had forced him to run that scenario over and over. And now, he realized the creature had been real. Worse… Tonot had known about it. And for some reason, he had wanted Reng to know it too.

So now he understood. That thing hiding in the dark was extremely dangerous.

But before he could issue any warning, a shadow leapt from the blackness. A fast, jagged blur hurtled straight at Zerik. He barely had time to lift his weapon before the beast slammed him to the ground. Sharp claws scraped over the surface of his armor. An inhuman screech echoed across the rocks, and the agile form vanished once more into the dark. Zerik cursed. Shaken but alive, he scrambled back to his feet. It was clear to everyone that the armor had just saved his life.

“What now?” Miren whispered, terrified.

“Try to kill it?” Borin suggested, clearly enjoying the situation.

For once, Reng agreed with him, his eyes fixed on the shadows, trying to spot the creature before it struck again.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Zerik shaking his head, as if struggling with a malfunction in his helmet. But they weren’t using comms, the radios were silent. At first, Reng dismissed it, but then Zerik took a step toward him, and Reng suddenly realized something was wrong.

The modifikant raised his weapon.

It was already too late to do anything.

A gunshot cracked through the night. Reng felt the impact like a sledgehammer, slamming him to the ground. Searing pain spread across his chest, each breath burning like metal spikes driving into his ribs. For a moment, his vision blurred behind a red veil. His mouth filled with a bitter, salty taste , he didn’t know whether it was blood or just the flavor of fear. Maybe both. For several long seconds he just gasped for air, helpless and disoriented, before he tried to move...

Meanwhile, Zerik turned on the others. Judging by Borin’s shout, they had finally realized something was seriously wrong.

Despite the stabbing pain in his chest, Reng tried to get up. The darkness around him was chaotic. He saw the beams from the others’ helmet lights slicing through the night and flashes as their focus locked onto the foreign, twisted body of the Sleeper. It was fast. Far too fast... And then he felt it again… the strange tension behind his eyes. Something had settled deep inside his skull, and he could feel his limbs stiffen. Suddenly, every movement was harder, as if the weight of the entire world had come crashing down on him.

He knew this wasn’t natural.

It was the Sleeper. It was in his head...

He pushed against the pressure with all his strength and then Borin appeared in front of him.

“Move! Boost yourself!” Borin shouted from so close that even in the dark, Reng could see his pupils dilated in panic.

He knew what Borin meant. The mobzar might calm the storm in his head, or it might not. He remembered that damned simulation and realized he knew what to do. Or at least he thought he did. But for that, he needed to stay conscious.

“Wait! I know…!”

But Borin, realizing Reng was about to disobey him again, didn’t hesitate. Before he could react, Borin slammed his fist into the injector. Cold fog instantly flooded Reng’s mind. He could only hope that by the time he came out of the drug haze, it would all be over.

It was.

He sat on the ground, and the return to reality hit hard, just like always. The fog in his brain faded, but what he saw was worse than anything he could have prepared for.

He was trembling, exhausted and in pain. Zerik lay only a few steps away. His armor was torn open, his body lifeless.

A little farther off sat Miren, shaking. She looked like she wasn’t even aware of where she was.

Borin was relieving himself just a short distance away, and once he finished, he walked over to the lifeless body of the creature that had caused them so much trouble today. He kicked it with satisfaction.

“We killed it,” Reng realized with relief and slowly stood to get a better look at the beast.

It was smaller than he had expected, yet still taller and definitely stronger than a human. He could not forget how easily it had slammed a fully armored modifikant to the ground. Long, flexible limbs gave its body agility and speed, making it a perfect predator. What unsettled Reng was that, aside from its proportions, the creature looked disturbingly human. He knelt beside it to look into its face. The wide, dead eyes were completely black, with no whites or iris. A small nose with huge nostrils and bared teeth behind thin lips clearly belonged to a predator. He turned his gaze away, unsettled. Even in death, those eyes gave him the same dizziness as staring into an abyss.

“That bastard puppeteered Zerik. Like a marionette,” Borin cursed. He looked more exhausted than usual. “I guess we were lucky we boosted in time. The drug was stronger than he was.”

“Maybe for us. But what about her?” Reng nodded toward Miren, still trembling nearby.

“No such luck,” Borin said grimly. “Her injector was broken.”

Reng frowned. That sounded serious. “Is she going to be alright?”

“Who knows.”

She looked small and fragile, completely lost inside her bulky armor. He could not ignore the fact that her eyes, artificial as they were, held something disturbingly close to madness.

“Miren?” he said softly, sitting beside her and touching her carefully. He wanted to get her attention without scaring her further.

“I felt him. I felt him,” she whispered and looked at him. “Inside me. He was there, and he found everything. Everything.”

“What did he find?” Reng leaned in with concern.

“Me, Reng. He found what I am, and he showed me what he was. Reng, they are something entirely different from what we think.”

Miren began to choke on a sob, even though her eyes could no longer produce tears. Reng could do only one thing. He held her tightly and kept holding her while her grief took hold, then anger, and finally surrender. Only when she had gone still did he dare to let her go. She was exhausted, but perhaps, for a short moment, at peace with what had happened.

At that moment, they heard the deep hum of an engine. Borin had called for pickup, and lights in the sky were slowly approaching. It didn’t take long before the heavy craft touched down. Neron’s boots hit the ground first, followed by two officers who looked around in shock, trying and failing to make sense of what had happened.

“Load up Zerik. And this thing, whatever the hell it is,” Borin ordered, kicking the monstrous body again, “and let’s get out of here.”

The officers obeyed, but it was clear they were shaking as they took in the horror around them. Reng helped Miren to her feet and guided her onto the horus, where he sat across from her.

“And the informant?” one of the officers dared to ask.

“Feel free to piece him together from what’s left. We won’t get anything more out of him,” Borin snapped, climbing into the transport.

The officers finally understood it was over and scrambled aboard just as the horus lifted off the ground.

***

The cabin was silent as a grave. Miren sat stiffly, her fingers clutched around the edge of her seat. Her artificial eyes darted from one face to another, as if searching for a trace of comfort, but found none.

“What’s wrong with you?” Borin muttered tiredly when he noticed her distant expression. “Look, we made it. Again and again. Get used to it. This is our world now.”

Miren shook her head weakly. “No. This is no longer my world.”

Then she gave Reng a brief, painful smile. “I saw inside their minds. And they saw into mine. There’s no room left in there for anything good.”

“What are you talking about?” he breathed, but she turned away from him again, clearly unwilling to speak about the horror she had endured.

Reng understood she needed time and space, so he let himself drift into the hum of the engines. His gaze wandered by accident to what was left of Zerik. He could not ignore the fact that there was no visible sign of attack from the creature. Only a clean, precise cut on the exposed part of his neck. That was what had ended his life.

Thoughtfully, Reng reached to his belt and pulled out the one weapon he had carried ever since escaping from Karhen Rouz. A thin hunting knife. Fresh blood still coated it.

“You killed him,” Miren said suddenly.

Reng froze. He realized that because of the broken injector, she remembered everything. Unlike them.

“He was already aware again, Reng. He was begging you to stop, but you couldn’t hear him. You were out of control.”

Reng swallowed hard as the meaning of her words sank in. He had killed Zerik. Even though Zerik had begged for his life, his drug-clouded mind had not heard the pleas.

“We did what we had to do,” Borin said sharply, without looking at her. His voice sounded more tired than convinced.

Miren looked at him and slowly stood. “And what else are we going to do? We do what they tell us. We never ask questions. But what about your conscience? What are you going to do with all those lives on your hands? How many begged for mercy while you killed them, and you don’t even remember it? Do you think that makes you innocent? Have you seriously never wondered why all we leave behind are corpses? Does that feel normal to you?”

Borin scowled. His jaw clenched, as if he were holding back from snapping. “You think too much. Just shut up and sit down.”

“Sit down and shut up. That’s exactly what I’ve been doing this whole time,” she replied quietly, but her voice was growing stronger. “But not anymore, Borin. I’m done being part of this… this madness. I’m sorry. I can’t do it anymore.”

Borin rubbed his face, and his hardened expression briefly cracked. “And what do you want to hear, so you can feel better? That we’ll give it all up? Go home? Live ordinary, messed up lives like ordinary, messed up people? Is that what you want? Do you really think anything like that is still waiting for you? That they’ll let you walk away?”

Surprisingly, there was frustration in his voice too, and Reng realized that even Borin was not immune to how the Beacon had treated them. Maybe he also, in the dark hours of the night, remembered the simpler time when he had been just a wrangler whose biggest problem was the foreman complaining about his foul mouth. It honestly surprised him.

“Look at us,” Borin went on. “We’ve got nowhere to go. None of us. Everyone who ended up here was broken before. Thieves. Killers. Drifters. Outcasts. Cripples. That’s why they picked us. We have no homes. No families. Nothing. Just this. So deal with it and stop whining.”

Miren closed her eyes and took a ragged breath, clearly in pain. When she opened them again, her gaze was strangely calm. “But there is a way out.”

Reng froze. He was about to say something, but Miren silenced him with a single gesture. Her voice was softer now, almost peaceful.

“It’s a hard path, and definitely not meant for everyone. Not for you, Borin. You’re just too much of a coward.”

Borin scowled, immediately offended. “I’m not a coward.”

“Miren, wait…” Reng could not hold back anymore, but it was already too late.

She smiled at him. It was not a smile of joy, but one of relief. She took a step back. Then another, straight into the void below the horus. Reng reached out for her at the last moment, but his hand grasped only empty air as Miren vanished into the night.

His eyes went wide in horror. Despite the dizziness, he dared to move closer to the edge of the platform. Wind struck his face, stinging his eyes with tears. Or maybe it was not just the wind. Maybe that wetness blurring his vision came from somewhere deeper. Outside, there was only darkness, and there was no sign of Miren at all.

“What the hell did you just do!” he turned and shouted at Borin, who sat there stunned and speechless. His eyes were still fixed on the spot where the black-haired modifikant had stood only moments ago. And he was not the only one. The entire cabin had fallen silent in horror at what had just happened.

“I didn’t do anything,” Borin said at last, clearly shaken by Reng’s accusation.

“Didn’t do anything? This is on you and your mouth. If you had just shut up for once.”

Reng stepped toward him, voice sharp.

Borin shoved him back, furious. “You should shut up. I didn’t push her. She did it herself. Herself!. Do you understand?”

His voice wavered between rage and despair.

“Let others be the judge of that,” Reng said through clenched teeth. “And believe me, Borin, I’m not going to cover your ass. You went out on a mission where nothing was supposed to happen and came back with two dead. And you know damn well they won’t like that. Maybe this time you’ll lose more than just the favor of one werren.”

Borin took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. The tension between them was thick enough to cut. Reng could feel how everyone in the cabin watched them, nervous, maybe already weighing which side to take if things got worse.

“You are not going to ruin this for me,” Borin’s voice was calm now, almost cold. “This is my ride and I’m not getting thrown out of the saddle.”

Reng scoffed. “Maybe it’s time you understood that this isn’t a ride for one. Maybe it’s time you started thinking about someone other than yourself.”

Borin hissed with fury but said nothing more. He looked away. Reng realized he might be more afraid than he let on. And he had reason. This mission was a disaster, and Borin would be the one to face the consequences.

The horus gained altitude again, and a blast of cold wind swept through the open platform. No one dared to speak. Only the monotonous drone of the engines broke the heavy silence.

Reng sat down heavily, his eyes drifting to the spot where Miren had been sitting just moments before. Now, there was only an empty seat.

He reached absently to his belt and pulled out the hunting knife. Blood still stained its shining blade, a clear reminder of what they had become. It occurred to him that when the sun rose, the darkness inside their minds would remain unchanged. They were lost. They were modifikants, which meant they had only two choices left. Death or forgetting.

He gripped the knife tighter, then wiped Zerik’s blood from the metal until it shone like new, ready to return to its place. He knew he would need it again soon. Tonot had shown him.

Again and again, he had been hunted through simulations, forced to face the Sleeper’s projection. Killing it had never been the end.

And what waited for him now filled him with a very real fear.