Elion sat on a rock outside the cave. He held his phone up, trying to connect with civilization.

  It was a miracle that he had a signal out here, especially since it was so unreliable even in the city.

  Still, he wasn’t about to question his luck. He had one shot at this.

  The signal was not strong enough to go online, especially to read about what happened at the club, but it was good enough for him to text his mother.

  He quickly typed out a message to his mother.

  Elion: [Mom, I’m spending the night at Jordan’s.]

  It was short, simple, and hopefully believable.

  It was also a little ridiculous.

  Twenty years old, and here he was, texting his mother like some high schooler, asking for permission to stay out. What was he even doing?

  A loud burst of laughter erupted behind him.

  Jordan. Of course.

  “Oh, man. That’s adorable.” He laughed and clutched his stomach. “You’re in the woods, avoiding beast-men, working with a cowboy from another world—and the first thing you do is text your mom?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “You’re a good boy.”

  Elion sighed, already regretting every life choice that had led him to this moment. "Look, I only have one mother. And after everything she’s been through, the least I can do is remove one worry from her list."

  Jordan wiped a fake tear from his eye. "Wow. That’s beautiful, man. I think I might cry."

  Elion chuckled. "You should cry. Because, unlike you, I actually have a functioning moral compass."

  Jordan held up a hand. "Hey, don’t lump me into that."

  He then looked at the night sky and added, "I just think if my mom ever found out I was out in the middle of the woods with a cowboy and being chased by beast-men, she’d just tell me not to be an idiot and go back home. No follow-up questions."

  Listening to the banter, Ronan—who had been silent for the past hour—let out a small chuckle.

  Both of them turned to him in surprise.

  Jordan raised an eyebrow. "Sorry? Anything funny?"

  Ronan shook his head and smiled. "Nothing. Just... you two. It’s been a while since I’ve been around people who argue about dumb things like this."

  Jordan placed a hand over his chest dramatically. "Dumb? Excuse you, sir. This is the very foundation of human connection."

  Ronan shook his head again, still amused.

  ***

  Several hours later, the three of them settled down in the cave for the night. They built a fire that crackled softly and created long shadows on the damp rock walls. The temperature dropped, and while the cave wasn’t exactly warm, it at least provided shelter.

  It was only now, in the flickering light of the fire, that Elion and Jordan got a proper look at Ronan.

  Up until now, they had been too busy fighting for their lives or questioning their life choices to actually pay attention to the guy.

  Ronan looked like he was in his early thirties—maybe.

  It was hard to tell.

  He had a rugged, sharp face that showed he had experienced a lot in life, but he acted like it didn’t affect him. His jawline was strong, his skin had a light tan, and his sharp gray eyes looked wise as if they had seen too much.

  If he cleaned up, he could look like one of those mysterious drifters from action movies—they always sat in the corner of a bar and had a past that no one discussed.

  But then there was the cowboy hat.

  That stupid cowboy hat.

  Jordan squinted at him. "Okay, I gotta ask... What is with the cowboy thing?"

  Ronan, who had been quietly tending to his wound, glanced up. "What?"

  Jordan gestured vaguely at his entire existence. "The hat. The cloak. The whole ‘I walked out of a Western movie and ended up in the apocalypse’ look. It’s a choice."

  Ronan smirked. "What's a Western movie? And what's the problem with the hat?"

  Elion, who had been holding back the urge to say something, finally gave in. "Well, he forgot that you're not from here. In conclusion, what Jordan wanted to say was... it's terrible."

  Jordan nodded in agreement. "If you want to give off the ‘mysterious badass’ vibe, you need to really commit to it."

  Ronan furrowed his brow as he listened to that.

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  Jordan added, "Right now, you’re wearing a cowboy hat with a modern combat outfit. It looks like you couldn’t choose between being a soldier and a rancher, so you picked both."

  Ronan sighed and rubbed his nose. "Why do you care?"

  Jordan leaned back and stretched his arms. "If we’re trusting you with our lives, we need to know if you can survive or if you just look good while dying."

  Ronan took a deep breath, clearly wishing he had not talked to these two."It’s practical. Besides, you've seen me battling."

  Jordan raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Sure. What’s practical about it?"

  Ronan ignored him.

  Elion smirked. "He doesn’t have an answer."

  Jordan nodded. "He totally doesn’t."

  Ronan exhaled. "If it's bothering you, I can take it off."

  Jordan waved him off. "Oh, no, please keep it. We love a good comedy element in our life-or-death situations."

  Ronan shook his head, clearly done with them both.

  But as much as they teased, Elion couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a reason behind Ronan’s strange mix of attire. He had seen those same glowing engravings on his gun, on his cloak and this combat attire, on the sack with the rings.

  Nothing about this guy was random.

  And if the cowboy hat was just another piece of the puzzle?

  Elion felt they would learn the truth soon. Then, he suddenly straightened up, his eyes wide as he realized something. “Damn.”

  Jordan had just started to relax against the cave wall when he suddenly turned his head sharply. “What? What happened?” His tone was instantly alert, muscles tensing.

  Elion’s expression was grim. "I left my groceries."

  For a moment, there was only silence.

  Jordan blinked. Then blinked again.

  Then, he exploded. “WHAT?! That’s what you’re worried about right now?! After all this?!”

  Elion nodded, his expression unshaken. “Dude. I dropped it back there. You know what that means?”

  Jordan threw his hands in the air. “Yes! It means your eggs and bread are gone forever.”

  Elion exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “No, you idiot. If my bag is near the bodies of either the bear-man or the bull-man, and the cops find it, I’m gonna be a suspect.”

  Jordan opened his mouth, ready to fire off another joke—but then paused.

  His brain finally processed what Elion just said.

  He frowned. Then, he thought about it a little harder.

  Then his face slowly dropped.

  “Crap.” Jordan sat up properly, his face going pale. “Yeah. That is a problem.”

  Elion nodded. “I know, right? Imagine the headlines. ‘Local man arrested for the brutal slaying of two unidentified victims. Found at the crime scene: an innocent-looking bag of groceries.’ I’ll be thrown in jail before I even get to explain that I had nothing to do with this.”

  Jordan let out a groan. “Dude, that is suspicious. They’d think you ran away from the crime scene.”

  Ronan had been watching their conversation closely. He finally sighed and said, “You two are worried about the wrong thing.”

  Elion and Jordan turned toward him at the same time, both raising their eyebrows.

  “Wrong? What do you mean by that?” Elion asked, now wary.

  Ronan’s expression darkened slightly. “If the bag was just found by regular authorities, sure, that’d be annoying. But if it was found by the wrong people?” He leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees. “That would be a much bigger problem.”

  Elion and Jordan exchanged glances.

  Jordan narrowed his eyes. “Define ‘wrong people.’”

  Ronan sighed. “The beast-men.”

  The cave instantly felt colder.

  Elion’s stomach twisted. “...What?”

  Ronan ran a hand down his face, already regretting how complicated this was about to get. “Between them, they can sample and pass scents to one another. If they get ahold of your bag, they can use your scent to track us. Easily.”

  Jordan’s eyes widened. “Wait. You’re saying they can literally hunt us down like bloodhounds?”

  Ronan nodded. “Exactly.”

  Elion’s heart sank.

  Jordan blinked. "Oh, that’s much worse."

  Ronan focused intently. “And if they do get your scent?” He exhaled. “Then congratulations, boys. You might be trapped here.”

  Silence filled the cave. The weight of that realization crashed over them.

  Jordan let out a slow breath, shaking his head. “So, what you’re saying is... we’re basically walking GPS signals for every freak out there?”

  Ronan smirked, but there was no amusement in his eyes. “GPS? Pretty much.” Luckily, he understood what Jordan meant by GPS. He had studied a bit about the technology of this world before coming here.

  Elion groaned, rubbing his temples. First, the bear-man. Then the bull-man. Then, the cowboy-hunter. And now? This.

  Jordan exhaled sharply. “Man, we are so screwed.”

  Elion nodded. “Yeah.”

  Ronan?

  He didn’t say anything. But his expression alone told them everything.

  They weren’t just screwed.

  They were hunted.

  ***

  The air was thick with the stench of blood and decay.

  The remains of the bear-man, and the bull-man were still lying in the ruined alleyway, but they were no longer alone.

  Scattered among the rubble and broken pavement were several fresh corpses—police officers, their bodies twisted unnaturally, throats torn open. Their weapons were still in their hands, useless against the monsters that had torn them apart.

  Standing over them were three massive figures—ape-like beast-men.

  They had broad shoulders and thick fur covering their muscular bodies, but unlike the bear-man and the bull-man, their faces were more human, disturbingly so.

  Their sharp eyes shone in the moonlight. They looked amused and satisfied.

  One of the three was the largest and held a grocery bag in his clawed hand.

  He looked at the woman standing a few feet away. She had golden eyes and long hair that seemed to shine in the low light.

  It was Leo.

  She was different.

  Unlike the others, she wasn’t covered in fur. Her body was mostly human in form—tall, lean, and dangerously poised. The only clear sign of her beastly nature was her feline-like golden irises and the quiet but undeniable sense of authority she carried.

  The ape-man stepped forward, extending the bag toward her. “We found this near the body.” His voice was gruff, but there was respect in his tone. “This is the only thing that did not belong to our men.”

  Leo took the bag without a word. She lifted it slightly, her nose twitching as she brought it closer.

  She turned it over in her hands, scanning it, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. Her fingers brushed against the plastic, feeling for something more than just its physical presence.

  Then, she inhaled.

  At first, all she picked up was the mundane scent of groceries—plastic, eggs, processed meat.

  Useless.

  But underneath that—

  There it was.

  A human scent. Distinct. Faint but fresh.

  Leo’s pupils narrowed into thin slits. This wasn’t just any human. This was someone who had been here recently.

  She closed her eyes and inhaled deeper, filtering through the stench of death, blood, and burning asphalt. And then, something clicked.

  The scent disappeared.

  Right there. Right at that spot.

  Leo’s eyes snapped open, her smirk returning. “Interesting…”

  The ape-men waited as she processed it, knowing better than to interrupt.

  She tossed the grocery bag onto a nearby corpse. “The human who carried this… was with Ronan.”

  The largest of the monkey-men narrowed his eyes. “You’re sure?”

  Leo tilted her head slightly, her smirk widening. “You doubt me?”

  He quickly looked away.

  She pointed at the exact spot where the scent vanished. “Ronan teleported from that spot.”

  Her golden eyes gleamed in the moonlight, amused yet calculating. “And whoever was with him… disappeared at the exact same time.”

  The ape-men exchanged glances.

  “More people?” one of them asked. “Are they Ronan’s allies from this world?”

  Leo flexed her fingers, rolling her shoulders. “That remains to be seen. But one thing is certain…”

  Her golden eyes flickered toward the distant tree line, her smirk turning razor-sharp.

  “They can’t run forever.”