Chapter 4: Threads
The morning is colder than I expected. The fire from last night is nothing but faint embers, a whisper of warmth quickly fading into ash. Sophie sits close to it, her knees pulled up to her chest. Taro is on the edge of the ruins, sharpening a piece of metal against a rock.
I don't speak to them. Not yet. I haven't decided what to say.
The orb sits in my bag, pulsing faintly. Its warmth has cooled, but its presence feels heavier somehow, like it's waiting for something. I haven't told Sophie or Taro about it. I don't plan to.
They wouldn't understand.
---
Taro's the first to break the silence. "We need food," he says, his voice blunt. "Water too. This isn't sustainable."
Sophie nods, though her expression is distant. "We should look for a stream. Maybe there's something beyond the ruins."
She's trying to sound optimistic, but the cracks in her voice give her away. She's scared. They both are.
"I'll look," I say. My tone leaves no room for argument.
Taro frowns, his jaw tightening. "You're just going off on your own again?"
I meet his gaze, unflinching. "Do you have a better idea?"
He doesn't respond right away. Sophie looks between us, her brow furrowed.
"Kai," she says softly, "we should stick together. It's safer that way."
I shake my head. "Safer? Out here, in the open? You think clumping together is going to save us when something comes for us?"
Her lips press into a thin line. She doesn't have an answer for that.
"I'll find something," I say, standing. "Stay here. Keep the fire going."
Before they can argue, I'm already walking away.
---
The ruins stretch further than I thought. Broken stone and twisted metal scatter the ground, but there's no sign of life. No plants. No animals. Nothing.
It's too quiet. Even the air feels wrong—heavy, like it's pressing down on me.
I keep moving, my hand brushing the dagger at my side. My eyes scan every shadow, every corner.
I can't afford to let my guard down. Not now.
---
After what feels like hours, I find something.
A structure, mostly intact. It's larger than the others, with thick walls and a roof that hasn't completely caved in. There's an opening near the base—a jagged hole just big enough to crawl through.
I hesitate.
The orb in my bag pulses faintly, its light seeping through the fabric. It feels warmer now, almost like it's… guiding me.
I crouch down, peering into the darkness beyond the opening. I can't see much—just shadows and faint shapes. But there's something about this place. Something that pulls at me.
I tighten my grip on the dagger and crawl inside.
---
The air inside is stale, thick with dust and decay. My eyes adjust slowly, picking out details in the dim light. The walls are lined with strange markings—symbols etched into the stone, their edges worn but still distinct.
They're not random. There's a pattern to them, though I can't make sense of it.
In the center of the room, there's a pedestal. On it sits another orb, larger than the one in my bag. This one glows brighter, its light casting faint, flickering shadows across the walls.
I take a step closer, my heart pounding. The warmth from my orb grows stronger, almost unbearable.
As I reach the pedestal, the light from the larger orb flares, filling the room. For a moment, I can't see anything.
And then, I hear it.
A voice. Low, distant, like a whisper carried on the wind. I can't make out the words, but the tone is clear. It's not a warning. It's a command.
---
When the light fades, I'm on my knees, the dagger still clutched in my hand. The larger orb is gone, leaving only the pedestal behind.
The markings on the walls seem brighter now, glowing faintly in the dim light. My orb pulses again, its rhythm faster, more urgent.
I don't understand what just happened. But I know it wasn't random.
The voice still echoes in my mind, its meaning just out of reach. It wasn't speaking to me—it was speaking through me.
---
I make my way back to the camp, my mind racing. The orb in my bag feels heavier now, its presence more suffocating.
Sophie and Taro are where I left them, their faces lighting up when they see me.
"Did you find anything?" Sophie asks, hope flickering in her voice.
I shake my head. "Nothing useful."
She deflates, her shoulders slumping. Taro scowls but doesn't say anything.
I sit by the fire, keeping my bag close. The orb's warmth seeps through the fabric, a constant reminder of what I found.
I don't tell them about the structure. Or the pedestal. Or the voice.
They don't need to know.
---
That night, I don't sleep.
The voice whispers to me again, its words clearer now.
"A debt must be paid."
I don't know what it means. But I know one thing for certain.
This world isn't done with me yet.