Zuberi's reckless charge down the scree-slope broke the silverbacks' calculated siege. Hanz moved right without hesitation, raising the strange weapon that now pulsed with shadow. Each sharp crack echoed unnaturally, bolts of shadow slamming into the beasts, staggering them, disrupting their coordination more effectively than any spear could.
Zuberi met the pack leader head-on. Spear haft collided with snapping jaws, the impact reverberating through his bones. He danced back swiftly, forcing the heavy beast with the scarred flank uphill. Its eyes burned with hateful recognition. This was personal.
"Zuberi! Two around the rock!" Lisa yelled, her voice sharp with panic yet clear, cutting through the chaos. She wasn't fighting but feeling the battle's flow, anticipating threats.
He spun immediately, trusting her warning, sweeping his spear wide. Two silverbacks leaped back, thwarted in their flanking attempt. Her instinct, raw yet crucial, had saved him.
Near the overhang, the boy stood rigid, eyes squeezed shut, small fists clenched tightly. A wave of focused dread radiated outward—an invisible shield. The nearest silverbacks hesitated, shaking their heads, clearly unnerved. Beside him, the color-shifting creature seized this pause. Despite obvious exhaustion and the bloody gash on its arm, it darted forward. A low hum built quickly, and a thin, shimmering beam of intense heat erupted from its eyes, striking a silverback squarely in the chest. The beast roared, stumbling backward, fur smoking from the blast. The creature swiftly retreated to the boy's side, their desperate partnership holding firm.
"Damn it!" Hanz cursed as his shadow-weapon clicked empty. Confusion flashed across his face. A silverback lunged at his exposed side.
"Hanz!" Lisa screamed.
Before Zuberi could move, the creature acted again. The heat-beam flashed out, striking the beast's shoulder. It wasn't a killing blow, but the intense pain and surprise caused it to falter, missing Hanz by inches.
Hanz stumbled back, looking incredulously at his shadow-weapon as shadow again coalesced around it. He shot the creature a wide-eyed, grateful look before resuming his shadow-fire onto the pack.
The fight descended into swirling chaos. Zuberi fought with focused intensity, his spear a flickering extension of will. Lisa's tense calls guided their movements. Hanz kept the beasts off-balance with shadow-fire. The boy and his protector stood their ground with psychic pressure and precise beams of heat.
Finally, the pack leader, bleeding from a deep gash Zuberi had opened, recognized defeat. Its companions were injured, confused by the barrage of unnatural attacks. With a frustrated roar directed squarely at Zuberi, it signaled retreat. The remaining silverbacks swiftly melted back into the shadows.
Silence fell, sudden and heavy, broken only by ragged breaths and the boy's quiet, hiccuping sobs.
Wind scraped the canyon walls, lifting dust into thin, rust-colored veils drifting over the empty battlefield. Zuberi set the spear butt against stone, drawing a ragged breath. Each heartbeat echoed painfully in his skull.
Lisa stood a few paces away, pressing an arm to her bruised ribs. Her eyes were wide but steadier now. When she looked at him, she confirmed he was real and breathing. Zuberi nodded slowly, watching her shoulders ease in relief.
Hanz paced where the beasts had fallen—or rather, where they had been. His shadow-weapon hung loosely, dark smoke curling from the muzzle. He flexed his fingers, looking both elated and unsettled.
Across from them, the boy knelt beside the creature, hands buried gently in its mottled hide. Up close, the child's features caught Zuberi's attention sharply: sun-warmed skin, tight sable curls, pale green-gray eyes ringed distinctly with brown. Zuberi had never seen someone whose features blended worlds so starkly. It unsettled him, though he set the thought aside swiftly.
Lisa approached quietly. "The way you moved," she asked softly, shaking her head slightly, "You flowed. You trusted me. How?"
"I listened," Zuberi said simply, cleaning the spear blade. "I trusted you saw what I couldn't." He offered a faint smile. "You were right." Color rose gently to her cheeks.
Hanz stopped pacing, staring at his shadow-weapon. "No bullets," he muttered, bemused. "Pull the trigger—shadow pours out." He met Zuberi's eyes. "Think I never need ammunition again," he said.
"Then learn its limits," Zuberi said firmly. "A gift means nothing if you cannot wield it twice."
Hanz laughed shortly. "First time anyone's called something about me a gift," he said.
Zuberi turned toward where the carcasses should have been, intending to salvage what they could. But the ground was empty, disturbed only by dust. He remembered the silverback the creature had struck with heat. Kneeling where it had fallen, he touched the ground carefully. Nothing.
He stared. A hush settled around them.
Lisa whispered, "Where did they go?"
Zuberi shook his head slowly. "The rhinoceraptor we killed vanished too," he said. "When I woke, its pelt was waiting in that… dream-cave."
Hanz exhaled. "Loot," he said, the word half-amused, half-reverent. "This place cleans up after itself."
The boy rose, brushing dust from his knees. "She says it's the System," he said quietly, almost hesitantly. "Some things belong where they fall, others get… stored for later." He hesitated, uncertain. "She can't explain more than that."
Trophies banked by invisible hands. Zuberi found it unsettling, but shook off his unease. "Then the spoils will find us when they choose," he said. "For now, we need higher ground."
He scanned the cliffs quickly. A narrow path climbed westward. Dusk was fast approaching.
He lifted his spear. "We move. Lisa, stay alert. Hanz, rear guard. You—" he nodded to the boy.
The child quickly said, "I'm okay. She can carry me." The creature chuffed softly, lowering her shoulders—another seamless partnership.
They began ascending cautiously. Gravel shifted underfoot; wind moaned through cracks in the rock. Twice Lisa paused, adjusting their route around loose scree. Hanz watched her curiously but followed without question.
Midway up, they reached a half-collapsed ledge, and Zuberi called a halt. Bruises throbbed insistently. Lisa tended a cut on her calf. Zuberi checked the boy's scraped palms gently, offered him water from his skin, then passed it to Hanz.
Hanz drank deeply, sighing afterward. "That fear thing the kid does," he said quietly, shaking his head, "hit me like cold water—but good. Kept my head clear."
The boy ducked shyly behind his companion's frill. Zuberi placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It shields allies," he said firmly. "Turns predators back." He met Hanz's gaze steadily. "Every strength here has purpose."
"And every cost," Hanz muttered softly.
"Purpose first. Cost later," Zuberi said, gazing toward the fading skyline.
They resumed climbing. Twilight deepened gradually into evening. Eventually, the ridge flattened into a broad shelf overlooking cracked mesas. A rocky overhang provided shelter.
Zuberi surveyed the area—defensible, good visibility. "We rest here," he said. "Tomorrow we find water and better shelter."
Hanz dropped his pack heavily. Lisa sank onto a stone, looking outward silently. The boy slid from the creature's back, pressing close as it curled its tail protectively around him.
Zuberi set his spear beside him, leaning heavily against the cliff wall. The wind carried a faint, sweet scent. Beneath exhaustion, a quiet thread of victory remained—not in killing foes, but enduring. Names still unspoken, yet blood shared. The canyon behind them; ahead lay a world vast with threats and strange gifts.
He closed his eyes for one measured breath, then opened them again. Night would fall swiftly. He would be ready.