When the sun rose, they were already moving.

  The light came from the wrong place again—thin and pale, climbing the sky in a direction the old world never allowed. It painted the cracked streets in a color that wasn’t quite morning.

  They walked.

  The knight’s sword rested against their shoulder as they moved toward the Food Bazaar on Cropsey Avenue. The metal was heavier than anything they had carried before, but it didn’t slow them the way weight usually does. It felt… anchored. Like it belonged in their grip.

  Inside the store, the air smelled of old plastic and wet dust.

  Shelves leaned. Vines crept through the ceiling tiles. Cans still sat where the world had left them, quiet survivors in a place where everything else had rotted.

  They opened one.

  Corn.

  They ate it standing there, silent, the sound of the tin scraping against the spoon echoing softly between aisles that no longer remembered customers.

  The rest they carried back and dropped at the base.

  Outside, they passed the field again.

  The skull was still there.

  White. Clean. Sitting in the grass like it had been placed there carefully.

  No vines touched it.

  No dirt covered it.

  They didn’t approach.

  Their left eye, pale blue, lingered on it for a moment before they walked on.

  Home Depot waited across the road like a sleeping giant.

  They could still feel the memory of the thing inside—its size, its breath, the way the aisles trembled when it walked.

  Whatever it was, they didn’t want to meet it again.

  Not yet.

  They shifted the sword in their hand.

  Heavy.

  They swung it once while walking, testing the balance.

  The blade cut the air with a low whisper. Not fast, not light—but steady. A weapon meant for someone stronger than they were.

  Still… it fit.

  They walked farther that day.

  All the way to Denyse Wharf.

  The water beyond the broken railing was still, darker than it should have been. The wind moved over it but the surface barely answered.

  They sat.

  Not long.

  Just long enough to feel how quiet the world had become.

  They had seen monsters. Horrors that shouldn’t exist.

  But most of the time—

  There was nothing.

  Silence.

  That almost felt worse.

  They stood again and moved toward a Staples on Fifth Avenue.

  Inside were rows of things the world had abandoned halfway through becoming useful.

  Among them—

  Clothing.

  Finished pieces, still folded, still clean beneath a layer of dust.

  They changed there.

  A black long-sleeve shirt. Cargo pants that fit well enough to move in.

  Practical.

  Better.

  They searched further and found spools of string—strong enough to weave together.

  By the time they stepped back outside, the sword had a crude harness tied across their back.

  Getting the blade into it was awkward. They had to remove the harness, slide the sword in, then strap it back over their shoulders.

  But once it sat there—

  It worked.

  They rolled their shoulders once.

  Cracked their neck.

  Then started the walk back.

  They didn’t get far.

  Something caught their attention.

  A building.

  U.S. Army Recruiting – New York City Recruiting Battalion.

  They stopped.

  Watched it.

  The door hung crooked. The windows were shattered. Posters inside peeled away from the walls like old skin.

  For a long moment, they stood there with the sword on their back and the wind moving through the broken street.

  Then they turned away.

  Back toward the base.

  The Six Diamonds field came into view again. They slowed when they saw it.

  Thought about something.

  But kept walking.

  Inside the unfinished house, they slid the slab of broken wall back into place across the doorway.

  The gray drywall room waited the same as always.

  Empty.

  Quiet.

  They sat.

  And stayed there.

  Hours passed. Maybe more.

  They didn’t move much. Just breathing. Listening to the creak of the building and the slow whisper of wind through the cracks.

  The sword leaned beside them.

  Their left eye stared at the floor for a long time.

  When dawn came again—

  They stood.

  And looked toward Home Depot.

  They stepped into the Home Depot.

  The air inside felt wrong.

  Still. Dead. Thick enough that even the smallest sound seemed to grow teeth. Their boots touched the floor carefully, every step measured. Dust hung in the light like pale fog.

  They knew they couldn’t stay long.

  Not here.

  Not with that thing somewhere inside.

  The air felt different from the last time.

  Sharper.

  They covered their mouth with their sleeve, breathing through the fabric. Holding it when they could. Taking air only when needed.

  They didn’t know it yet—

  But that instinct would matter.

  They moved through the aisles slowly, scanning shelves and broken displays.

  Then—

  Thud.

  The walls trembled.

  They froze.

  Slowly, they leaned just enough to see down the aisle.

  The gray beast.

  It was there.

  Lying on the floor.

  But it was moving now.

  The massive body shifted as it rose, stone-like hide grinding against the concrete. The creature lowered its neck first, joints cracking as it twisted one way… then the other.

  Then it lifted its head.

  And began walking.

  Toward them.

  They stepped backward immediately, keeping low, keeping silent.

  They didn’t want to fight it.

  Didn’t want to learn what it could do.

  Not something that size.

  Another slow step back—

  And their hip bumped into a rack of nails.

  The stand rattled.

  Metal tapping metal.

  Not loud.

  But loud enough.

  They pinched the bridge of their nose and exhaled slowly.

  Too late.

  The beast’s steps changed.

  Faster now.

  Each one shaking the floor harder than the last.

  They ran.

  The exit doors were still ahead.

  Half broken. Half open.

  They sprinted for them—

  But halfway there they glanced back.

  Just once.

  The creature had stopped.

  Its black eyes locked onto them.

  The head was enormous. Wide. Heavy.

  Then its mouth opened.

  Inside—

  A glow.

  Faint orange.

  Growing brighter.

  They threw themself sideways, hitting the floor and rolling just as the creature released it.

  A blazing orange sphere ripped across the store and smashed into the doors.

  BOOM.

  Glass and metal exploded outward in a blast of heat.

  They sprang up immediately.

  The beast exhaled a plume of steam from its nose. Its jaws closed slowly.

  They pulled the pistol from their side.

  One bullet.

  They had forgotten about it until now.

  They aimed as steady as they could.

  BANG.

  The shot cracked through the building.

  The bullet struck the beast’s front shoulder—

  And bounced.

  A dull metallic clang echoed through the aisle.

  The creature didn’t even react.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  It simply took another step.

  They stopped.

  Their shoulders sagged.

  The pistol suddenly felt useless.

  They tossed it aside.

  It hit the floor with a soft clink.

  Then they ran.

  Through the ruined doorway and out into the open field beyond the store.

  The beast followed.

  Each step behind them thundered across the concrete.

  They slowed.

  Stopped.

  Turned.

  Watched it come.

  Then—

  Far away—

  Howls.

  Just one.

  But that was enough.

  They waited.

  The creature reached the edge of the field, halfway toward them.

  Its mouth opened again.

  Orange light built inside its throat.

  Sweat slid down the back of their neck.

  Their palms damp.

  The glow brightened—

  Then flashed red.

  They dropped instantly.

  The blazing orb screamed past them, silent but scorching hot, and slammed into a tree behind them.

  The trunk burst into flame.

  Branches ignited in a rushing flare of fire.

  They lifted their head.

  The beast closed its mouth again.

  Steam drifted from its nostrils.

  They watched carefully.

  The first blast… the second…

  Roughly a minute apart.

  But walking time had shortened the gap.

  They counted silently.

  Eight seconds after the red flash—

  The orb fired.

  Not perfect information.

  But enough to begin understanding the monster standing in front of them.

  They rose slowly.

  Not rushing.

  Not turning away.

  Their left eye—pale blue—remained fixed on the beast the entire time.

  The creature watched them the same way.

  The air between them felt stretched thin.

  Another glow began forming in its throat.

  They moved before it finished.

  The orange sphere tore through the air again. They rolled sideways through the grass, dirt and dry blades clinging to their clothes as heat rushed past them like the breath of a furnace.

  They came up on one knee.

  Still watching.

  The beast didn’t close the distance.

  It stayed far.

  Heavy body planted where the field met the broken pavement, like it preferred the distance.

  That told them something.

  Not weak skin.

  Not fear.

  Distance mattered to it.

  Time passed.

  Nearly two minutes.

  The creature simply stood there while they caught their breath.

  Then it changed.

  The beast rose upward, pushing onto its hind legs like a massive dog trying to stand tall. The full height of it stretched into the gray sky.

  Then—

  It slammed its feet down.

  The ground shook.

  A deep rumble rolled across the field, vibrating through their bones. Loose dirt trembled under their boots.

  And with it—

  Another howl.

  Closer this time.

  Still distant.

  But closer.

  Far away, something moved.

  Something fast.

  Bones flashing beneath stretched skin. Long limbs striking the ground on all fours. Pale yellow claws cutting the air as it ran. Long ears trailing back, thin orange skin showing the pulsing veins inside.

  Its split mouth dripped saliva as it sprinted toward the sound.

  Toward them.

  Back in the field, the gray beast opened its jaws again.

  Another blast formed.

  They moved too late this time.

  The orb streaked past them close enough that the heat brushed across their arm and neck. Not enough to burn. But enough to sting.

  Behind them the tree fire was spreading now.

  Branches crackled.

  Grass caught in scattered patches.

  The smell of smoke began creeping into the wind.

  They pulled the sword from their back.

  The blade felt heavier now that their muscles were tired. Cold still ran through the hilt into their grip.

  They didn’t have a plan.

  Not yet.

  Their pale blue eye reflected the massive creature standing across the field.

  They tightened their grip.

  Then something else entered their vision.

  The skull.

  They had drifted closer to it without noticing.

  It sat in the grass exactly where it had always been.

  Too clean.

  Too still.

  They froze for half a second.

  Looking at it felt wrong.

  They tore their gaze away and fixed it back on the beast.

  Next dodge would go right.

  Away from the skull.

  The creature stepped forward.

  Each step carried a low rumble through the soil.

  Its head lowered.

  Eyes locked on them.

  They didn’t like that.

  They shifted their stance, sword angled slightly downward.

  That was when they saw it.

  A tail.

  Thick. Heavy.

  They hadn’t noticed it in the Home Depot. Not earlier. Somehow it had been hidden by the creature’s bulk.

  The tail lifted.

  Then slammed into the ground.

  The impact didn’t hit them directly, but the earth trembled again. Cracks split outward through the dry field.

  Chunks of soil broke loose.

  One piece launched upward.

  Panic flickered in their chest.

  They forced themselves to breathe.

  Then ran to the right.

  The flying earth slammed into the ground behind them and shattered.

  One fragment skipped across the grass—

  And struck the skull.

  Their left eye snapped back to it.

  The bone rolled slightly.

  Then stopped.

  Inside the empty sockets—

  A faint red glow appeared.

  Two dim orbs waking slowly in the dark.

  The red glow inside the skull deepened.

  Then something climbed out of it.

  Not flesh.

  Not bone.

  A skeleton—blue and thin like frozen mist—rose slowly from the hollow skull. No eyes. Only black pits where sight should be. Its form ended at the spine, the lower half fading into nothing as it floated above the ground.

  It looked cold.

  Not temperature.

  Presence.

  Their pale blue eye shifted from the gray beast… to the thing rising from the skull… then back again.

  Trapped.

  The sword tightened in their grip.

  The gray beast’s throat began to glow again.

  Another blast building.

  They needed a thought—

  Then the street answered for them.

  Fast steps.

  Sharp.

  Violent.

  A blur struck the beast.

  Two heels slammed into the creature’s jaws with brutal force.

  A Hearing Wreath.

  Its long white limbs twisted through the air as it landed, already moving again. Blind—yet every motion precise.

  The beast roared.

  Tail swung.

  Jaws snapped.

  But the Wreath danced through each attack like it could hear the future.

  Monsters fighting monsters.

  They had seen hints of it before. Heard it in Inconvenience’s rasping voice—monsters eating monsters.

  Their pale blue eye snapped back toward the floating skeleton.

  Gone.

  Their breath stalled.

  They scanned the field.

  Nothing.

  Just fire creeping through grass. The gray beast thrashing against the Wreath. Steam from its nose.

  They stepped back.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Then turned and ran.

  A jog became a sprint—

  Then their foot jerked violently.

  They crashed to the ground.

  Hands.

  Blue skeletal hands gripping their ankle.

  They looked down.

  The floating skeleton had returned—its arms stretching from the soil itself.

  They kicked.

  Nothing.

  The grip didn’t loosen.

  They stabbed downward with the sword, careful not to strike their own leg.

  The blade passed through the blue bones like mist.

  Useless.

  Panic hit hard.

  Then—

  Everything vanished.

  The field.

  The fire.

  The monsters.

  Gone.

  They stood somewhere else.

  Red carpet beneath their boots, patterned with dark diamond shapes. The room stretched wide and tall, though the walls only rose about seven feet before dark wood panels framed the upper sections.

  Four feet up the walls were wood.

  Above that—

  Soft red fabric like theater walls.

  The ceiling was wood as well.

  Silent.

  Still.

  Wrong.

  Their pale blue eye scanned the room carefully.

  Then—

  “Ello there!”

  The voice burst into the air—bright, cheerful, like a game show host greeting a crowd.

  A hint of something foreign curled through the accent.

  They turned.

  Behind them stood the skull.

  The same skull.

  Except now it wore a body.

  A tall skeleton dressed in faded red—top hat tilted slightly forward, suit vest and matching pants worn but stylish. A white undershirt framed a nearly black tie. Black shoes clicked softly against the carpet.

  Its long bone fingers stretched from the sleeves of the suit.

  In one hand—

  A staff.

  Dark brown wood with a gold-rimmed base. At its top rested another small human skull.

  They swung.

  Instinct.

  Steel flashing.

  The skeleton leaned back casually.

  The blade cut empty air.

  “Wow oh wow,” the skeleton laughed lightly. “But sorry pal! No swinging or swuning in here!”

  The voice stayed cheerful.

  Before they could react—

  The world shifted again.

  They were sitting.

  A dark wooden chair.

  Across a round table made of the same wood. Strange carvings circled its edges—patterns resembling playing cards turning endlessly.

  The skeleton sat opposite them.

  “No need to fight before we start,” it said lightly.

  A sheet of blank paper slid across the table.

  A red pen rolled beside it.

  “Give me a name for the writer’s sake. Putting ‘they, them, their’ is already boring!” the skeleton chirped. “Calling me it and thing isn’t worth his time.”

  Their pale blue eye stared at it.

  Quiet.

  Still.

  “That was a joke, hon.”

  The skeleton muttered, glancing sideways toward the wall like it was acknowledging a camera that wasn’t there.

  They waited.

  Then slowly wrote.

  The Wandering Skull

  They pushed the paper back.

  The skeleton stared at it.

  Then burst into a choking laugh.

  “HA!”

  It slapped the table.

  “I hate it.”

  It tossed the paper behind itself.

  “Call me Skully.”

  Before they could react, it grabbed their hand and shook it enthusiastically.

  Then dropped back into its chair.

  “Also—he,” Skully added brightly. “I’m a he, just FYI. ‘It’ isn’t my style.”

  Cards appeared suddenly in the center of the table.

  A full deck, colored black.

  They shuffled themselves.

  Over and over.

  Skully leaned forward, elbows on the table.

  His voice slipped back into that honeyed game-show tone.

  “Now now now, dear.”

  Then the tone dropped.

  Dark.

  Sharp.

  “Let’s cut to the chase.”

  The cards stopped.

  “The deal is simple.”

  His grin widened, empty sockets glowing faintly.

  “Win three rounds… and you keep your life.”

  A pause.

  Then the grin stretched further.

  “But fail—”

  His voice turned into a chuckling whisper.

  “—and your voice is mine.”