The sky hung low, draped in smoke. Creature corpses lay scattered like broken statues, their twisted bodies still smoldering.
But the night wasn't quiet.
Music drifted from the heart of the settlement. A bonfire cracked and roared in the center square, flames rising high—not just for light, but for the dead.
Crowds gathered in loose circles. Some huddled together, whispering about the next wave. They survived Tier three already. What would Tier Four look like?
Others didn't speak at all. They laughed too loudly, drank too fast. Some danced near the fire like they could chase away tomorrow.
Ash sat with his back to the flames. His blade scraped the ground, back and forth, leaving shallow lines in the dirt.
His gaze was fixed on his shadow—long and still, stretched thin by the fire behind him.
Another shadow slid into view, stretching beside his own.
Ash tilted his head.
Julia stood next to him, her face half-lit by the fire, expression unreadable, eyes wide and still.
