That first day without Jessica passed without incident, which should have been reassuring. Instead, it just felt wrong. Sleep didn’t come easy that night.

  Training continued on the second day throughout the compound, but it no longer resembled the casual preparation in the way it once had. There was no shouting, no laughter carried on the air, no idle conversations drifting between drills. Everything had tightened.

  Even the newcomers seemed to understand without being told—this wasn’t downtime. Ten days left for preparation and every day would be used for that purpose. There was a tension in the air that smothered everything. I caught their eyes staring with trepidation. I could feel them looking.

  I watched from one of the wall towers. The ache in my arm hadn’t faded, It hadn’t worsened either. It simply existed—steady, dull, persistent. Not painful enough to demand attention, but constant enough that I could never forget it was there.

  Like something that had decided it was allowed to stay. Something about that thought felt fitting, though. Deserved even.

  I didn’t use bone armor on account of the breeze being too nice, but I could feel it there as if resting beneath my skin. The way you felt a sore muscle hours after exercise—present even when relaxed. The skin beneath the bandage itched faintly, not with healing, but irritation. A grim reminder of my ‘ailment’.

  I checked the timer on the wave, part curiosity but part time-keeping. Ten days. I didn’t look again for a while. I tried not to think about Jessica. But that didn’t last very long. I couldn’t help but look away from the training and towards the roads, hoping I would spot her on the horizon.

  She hadn’t said exactly when she’d be back. I knew she had given herself some breathing room, built herself margins. Extra time to circle wide, to disengage if something felt wrong, to retreat without being pressed.

  Except she always burned through that margin. Jessica didn’t underestimate the danger. As a tracker, she understood it better than anyone I knew. She knew when to slow down, when to vanish, when to cut losses and move on. Her perception of danger was only second to mine, but her stealth was unmatched in our group.

  Something I had noticed and learned about her though was that she overestimated how long she could push before fatigue became risk. She would always push too hard, to the point of exhaustion. It had never been too big of a problem, but she was alone now—no one could be that safety net for her.

  I told myself that was all this was. That she was being thorough and careful. That she’d chosen a longer route home to avoid attention. That she was resting more than she was working.

  Still, my eyes kept drifting to the road.

  By late afternoon, the air felt heavier. Not exactly ominous. Not exactly threatening. Just… expectant. Each breath didn’t come as easily. Sixth Sense flickered at the edges of my awareness.

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  Uncomfortable.

  I checked the timer again, noting the two hours that had slowly passed. Sixth sense droned on worse, and then as if some spark of electricity had struck me my hair stood on end.

  I checked the timer again, Eight days, twenty-one hours.

  I stared at it longer this time. A full day had just disappeared from the clock on the next demon wave.

  The number shifted again in front of me. Eight days, twenty hours. Not elapsed time. They changed as if adjusted.

  Needless to say I came down the tower in a rush, immediately finding Glenn who was still sending out notes via the auction house.

  “Take a look.” I showed him my display of the abode.

  “What?” He seemed disinterested, half-looking back to the note he was reading and then paused. “Eight days?” He did a double-take and I watched the gears turn in his head slowly.

  “That’s what they meant,” He said quietly.

  “Australia?” I asked.

  Glenn’s expression darkened. “The timer doesn’t dictate the world.”

  “The world dictates the timer,” I finished, still exactly unsure of what just occurred.

  Something had happened, but Jessica wasn’t here to tell us what.

  Fortunately, She returned just before dusk.

  No alarm sounded. No warning. Just a subtle ripple through the compound as people noticed movement at the gates. A murmur spread. Someone said her name softly. Then louder.

  I was already moving.

  She crossed the threshold under her own power, but it was clear every step hurt. Her cloak was torn along one side, stiff with dried blood. One arm was held close to her body, unmoving. Her breathing was controlled—measured in that specific way people breathe when they’re refusing to acknowledge pain.

  She made it three steps inside before her knees buckled.

  I caught her before she hit the ground.

  “You’re back,” I said quietly.

  Her fingers curled weakly into my sleeve.

  “Later than I wanted,” she rasped. “Sorry.”

  “You’re not late,” I said immediately. “You’re fine.”

  She gave a faint smile through the pain.

  People cleared space without being told. Rebekah and Thomas were there in moments, hands already glowing on instinct. She wasn’t particularly hurt, it was mostly fatigue. She had pushed herself too hard.

  We got Jessica settled somewhere quiet. Water first. Then more healing for comfort. She wasn’t in danger, and it was only a single wound around her shoulder. She had managed to bandage it and stop further HP loss, but it would take at least a day with good rest to heal.

  It was clear none of this was from a fight, it was from an escape. She slept for nearly an hour before she could speak clearly. When she did, the room was full. No one crowded her, but no one left either.

  “They patrol,” she said. “Not waves. Not random spawns. Patrols. Moving routes,” she continued. “They had search patterns, and I stayed outside of them at first, but then thought I was being too careful.” She said.

  Everyone waited.

  “I decided to get closer to the raid zone than I originally planned,” she admitted. “Not inside. Not fully. But, close enough.”

  “What happened?” Lucas asked, he was nearly falling out of his seat.

  “I was looking for a boss,” she explained. “But I didn’t find one.” She paused “I moved carefully and deliberately deeper, and that’s when it changed.” She said. “A presence.”

  “Not because I was seen. Because something was touched. I… touched something.” Silence followed. “I pulled back immediately,” she continued. “Everything after that moved faster. The demons I had just passed knew of me instantly, as if that presence had triggered some alarm.” She shrugged her shoulder, “I took this on the way out, fortunately they didn’t chase.”

  “A presence?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” She confessed. “The air around me changed, as if I disturbed something. The second I entered its range my cover was blown.”

  It was my turn to give everyone something to think about, “While you were gone… the timer changed.” I turned my abode display outward so others could see it. The timer now had a time that came out to just a little over eight days remaining.