The forest was a labyrinth of shadows, the trees standing like silent sentinels under the amber glow of the setting sun.

  Reed moved cautiously, his footsteps barely making a sound as he navigated the dense undergrowth.

  The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, and the occasional rustle of foliage sent his senses on high alert. Every snap of a twig, every whisper of the wind, made his heart race.

  He had been walking for what felt like hours, his mind racing with questions about the Sinking, the other sinkers, and the strange, unsettling feeling that had settled in his chest since he arrived.

  Then, he saw someone.

  A man stood frozen in the middle of a small clearing, his wiry frame tense and his messy brown hair sticking out in all directions. His clothes were simple—patched and worn—but practical, with a belt full of small pouches. His face was sharp, his eyes wide with exaggerated panic, like a child caught in the act of mischief.

  Reed's hand instinctively moved to the hilt of his sword, his body coiling like a spring. But the man didn't run. He didn't even move. He just stood there, as if pretending to be a mannequin.

  Reed frowned, his grip tightening on his sword. "What are you doing?"

  The man didn't answer. His eyes darted around, but his body remained eerily still.

  Reed's patience wore thin. He pulled out his sword, the blade glinting in the fading light. The man jumped in fright, stumbling backward.

  "Okay, okay, look—I'm sorry!" the man stammered, his hands raised in surrender.

  "I'm not going to hurt you or anything. I can just walk away from here, pretend I saw nothing. Haha."

  Reed's eyes narrowed. "How do I know this isn't a trap? Why didn't you just run?"

  The man side-eyed Reed, his expression a mix of annoyance and resignation. "Running's pointless. My fated ability won't allow it."

  "What do you mean?" Reed asked, his voice low and cautious.

  The man sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Look, dude, you must be the fourteenth sinker. My fated ability attracts dangerous creatures. Even if I run away from you, it'll find a way to drag you back to me."

  Reed didn't respond, his mind racing to process the absurdity of the situation. The man straightened slightly, pulling a throwing knife from his pocket. Reed tensed, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword as he took a cautious step back.

  The man threw the knife to the side, away from himself, then raised his palm toward Reed in a gesture of peace. "Relax," he said, taking a few steps closer. "My name's Spike."

  Reed's eyes flicked to the knife on the ground, then back to Spike. "What are you doing?"

  Spike leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Behind you. Inside the bush."

  Reed's instincts screamed at him to move. He kicked Spike, launching him backward, and spun around just as a figure burst from the bushes, an axe raised high.

  The blade gleamed in the fading light, and Reed barely had time to react. He jumped back, the axe slicing through the air inches from his chest. The weapon slammed into the ground, embedding itself in the dirt.

  Reed didn't hesitate. He drove his sword into the figure's arm, the blade piercing through flesh and bone until it hit the hilt. The figure screamed, their cries raw and desperate, but Reed didn't stop. He pushed forward, using his weight to pin them to the ground.

  The figure thrashed, their free hand clawing at Reed's arm, but he held firm.

  Blood splattered across Reed's face, warm and metallic. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

  The figure's cries turned to whimpers, their eyes wide with fear. Reed's grip on the sword tightened, his knuckles white.

  He could feel the whispers in his mind growing louder, voices that came from within. Memories of war and survival flooding his thoughts.

  The figure's face seemed to shift in his perception, morphing into that of an older man in red-plated armor. "Please! Please! Don't kill me!" the figure begged, their voice trembling.

  Reed raised the axe and swung down.

  Thud.

  The clearing fell silent. Reed stared at the body, his chest heaving. His hands trembled, but his face was cold, emotionless.

  He wiped the blood from his face, leaving smudges across his cheeks. The whispers in his mind faded, replaced by a hollow numbness.

  The clearing fell silent. Reed stared at the body, his expression unreadable. Spike pushed himself up, his face pale as he looked at Reed with a mixture of awe and sadness. The sight wasn't pretty—it was a grim reminder of the cruel world they were trapped in.

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  "We should leave this place," Spike said quietly, breaking the silence.

  Reed turned his head, his cold gaze meeting Spike's. Before he could speak, Spike interrupted. "We can figure everything else out later. Let's get out of here before my fated ability attracts more trouble. If we go deeper into the woods, we can get out of everyone else's range."

  Spike stood, brushing the dirt off his clothes, and glanced at the dagger on the ground. He sighed and walked away without another word.

  Reed followed Spike silently, his hand never straying far from the hilt of his sword. The forest grew darker as they moved, the trees closing in around them like a living, breathing entity.

  The air was heavy with the scent of pine and damp earth, and the occasional cry of a distant animal sent shivers down Reed's spine.

  They reached a small clearing as the last rays of sunlight disappeared, leaving the forest cloaked in darkness. Spike gathered dry branches and started a fire, the flames casting flickering shadows across their faces.

  Reed sat on the opposite side of the fire, his eyes never leaving Spike. The crackling flames were the only sound between them for a long time.

  Spike tossed a dried branch into the fire, watching the sparks dance into the night. "You really followed me, huh? What if I'm leading you into a trap?" he teased, his tone light but his eyes sharp.

  Reed's gaze didn't waver. "You really do have a death wish, don't you?"

  Spike's grin faltered for a moment, a chill running down his spine. "Haha… We should be out of everyone's range for now. The sun's setting—we can set up camp right here."

  The fire crackled, its warm glow contrasting with the cool night air. Reed and Spike sat in silence for a while, the weight of the day settling between them.

  "Why didn't you leave me behind?" Spike asked suddenly, breaking the quiet. He tossed another branch into the flames, his tone casual but his eyes searching.

  Reed shrugged. "You seemed harmless."

  Spike's face twisted into an exaggerated look of offense. "Harmless? Me?"

  Reed almost smiled, the sound low and rare. "For the most part."

  Spike leaned back, his grin fading as Reed's expression turned serious. "Why did you ask me to come with you?" Reed asked, his voice quiet.

  Spike hesitated, then sighed. "Since no one seemed to know you, that means you're not on either Caspian's or Cassie's side. Honestly, my original plan was to find Trynn."

  Reed's head snapped up, his eyes full of curiosity. "Trynn?"

  Spike nodded. "He's the son of a hunter in town. He was the only one who wasn't on either side. Well, before you showed up. Caspian and Cassie bribed some of the sinkers to be secret protectors. At this point, no one knows who's on whose side, who's lying, who's not. The fear drove everyone crazy."

  Reed raised an eyebrow. "What is there to bribe if you don't come back alive?"

  "Some of us value others more than ourselves," Spike said, his voice softening. "Some have families to take care of—a mother they love, a brother they care for." He stared blankly into the fire, his expression distant.

  "What about you?" Reed asked.

  Spike's grin returned, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Well, I don't have a family anymore."

  He looked up at Reed. "Trynn also doesn't have a family. He's a lone wolf. That's why he provides the most certainty. If I'd met him, I would've done the same as earlier today."

  "And if you don't find Trynn?" Reed asked, his voice quiet.

  Spike paused, his grin fading. "Didn't think that far, honestly." He glanced at Reed, his expression softening. "Guess I'll just have to stick with you."

  Reed stared at him, speechless.

  Spike stretched, yawning loudly. "Well, it's late. Do you want to take the first watch?"

  Reed nodded.

  "Alright, good night then," Spike said carelessly, laying out a pile of leaves and flopping down onto them. Within moments, his breathing evened out, and he was asleep.

  Reed sat by the fire, his eyes scanning the darkness beyond the flickering light. The forest was quiet, the only sound the occasional crackle of the flames and the soft rustle of leaves in the wind.

  His mind wandered, thoughts of Jade, the Sinking, and the strange boy with the cursed ability swirling together in a tangled mess.