Theo stood at the edge of the jagged cliff, panting as he took in the alien expanse before him. His hands braced against his knees, muscles burning from the grueling trek that had dragged him here. Each breath came heavy, pulling in air that was thinner, sharper, tinged with an electric tang.
The landscape stretched endlessly, a chaotic tapestry of crystalline spires, twisting forests, and rivers that shimmered like liquid mercury. The sun, if that’s what it was, pulsed with a pale, reddish glow, casting long, warped shadows over the terrain.
From this vantage point, Theo could see far—but not far enough. He needed height. His eyes swept across the horizon until they locked onto a massive tree-like structure, its spiralling branches twisting toward the sky like the skeletal fingers of some long-dead titan. Easily the tallest thing in sight.
A perfect vantage point.
Or a suicidal disaster. Jury’s still out.
Wiping sweat from his brow, he forced his legs to move, making his way down from the cliffside. Loose gravel skidded beneath his boots, threatening to send him tumbling, but he kept his balance, teeth grit against the sharp protests of overworked muscles. His descent was slow, careful—one misstep and he’d be doing a freefall demonstration Erasmus would never let him live down.
By the time he reached the base of the colossal plant, his breath came in ragged pulls. Up close, it was even more unsettling. The bark was smooth yet undulated beneath his fingers, a slow, rhythmic pulse—as if the tree itself was breathing.
Yeah, not creepy at all.
He exhaled and started climbing. The spiralling branches provided natural footholds, but each one had to be tested before he trusted it with his weight. The higher he went, the more his body screamed for him to stop. Forearms burning. The wound on his back screaming and threatening to open up again. He forced himself upward.
"Look, if you’re gonna be a carnivorous tree, please wait until I get to the top," he muttered, voice hoarse. "I’d like a dramatic last view."
The climb felt endless, but then—the world unfolded beneath him.
From here, the true scale of the landscape revealed itself. A vast, untamed expanse of jagged rock formations and neon-lit forests stretched far beyond what he'd seen before. Strange, lumbering creatures moved below, their massive forms shaking the ground with each step, unaware—or unconcerned—with his presence.
Theo froze.
In the distance, emerging from the misted edges of the forest, something moved.
Not the slow, unbothered movement of the giant beasts below.
Something else.
Something watching.
His fingers clenched tighter around the branch.
He had found the mineral deposits Erasmus had sent him for—shimmering veins of frozen lightning embedded in the cliffs beyond the ravine. But the glow of the minerals wasn’t what made his pulse spike.
It was the shapes in the distance.
Dark, shifting figures.
Moving with purpose.
Theo’s stomach twisted.
Whatever they were, they weren’t just wandering.
They were hunting.
The shadowy figures prowled the perimeter of the ravine, low to the ground, moving with an unsettling, predatory grace. More raptor-wolves. Their luminous eyes cut through the dark, scanning the terrain, sniffing for something—him.
Theo’s stomach twisted. They knew someone had been here. If he wasn’t careful, they were going to figure out exactly where.
His fingers tightened around the branch. Two choices: head back without the final resource and suffer Erasmus’s world-class hissy fit, or push forward despite the very real possibility of being ripped apart by a pack of space velociraptors.
His pride hissed at him. He’d barely earned an ounce of respect from the old bastard—no way in hell was he rolling back empty-handed now.
"Alright, Theo," he groaned, shifting his grip. "Time to be stupid."
He descended, each movement slow and precise, eyes locked on the creatures below. His boots touched the ground, and he was moving instantly—low, silent, deliberate. Every shift of his weight sent a dull pulse of pain through his back, the torn flesh a stinging reminder of his near miss at the cliff.
The foliage rustled around him, unseen creatures clicking softly from within the undergrowth.
"What the hell am I doing? I’m not a survivalist. I’m not a hunter. Screw that old bitch—I don’t care if he thinks I’m soft."
But as he reached the ravine’s edge, where jagged veins of crystal pulsed like frozen lightning embedded in the rock, the air shifted.
A growl.
Theo froze.
One of the creatures had peeled away from the pack, sniffing the air just meters from him. Its nostrils flared. Claws flexed against the ground. Its head tilted slightly in his direction.
The others followed. Slow, deliberate.
A deep, instinctual terror coiled in Theo’s gut, tightening like a vice.
"For fuck’s sake. I’m dead then. I’ve been killed. Raz, I swear, if ghosts are real, I’m haunting your workshop and breaking all your shit."
Then—
Crack.
A sharp, unnatural sound split the silence, reverberating through the ravine.
Theo flinched, pulse spiking as his instincts screamed at him to move—but the sound hadn’t come from him.
Rustling followed, low and urgent, as if something large was shifting through the undergrowth.
The raptors froze.
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Then, in eerie unison, they snapped their heads toward the disturbance.
Theo’s breath hitched.
Whatever that was, it had their attention now.
The pack’s tense, coiled stances eased slightly, their hunger momentarily replaced by cautious curiosity.
Then, just as quickly as they had appeared, they moved.
Not in a panicked scramble—but with purpose.
The alpha let out a guttural chuff, a silent command, and one by one, the pack slinked into the shadows, vanishing into the undergrowth, heading toward the source of the noise.
Theo didn’t move.
Not yet.
Every nerve in his body screamed to run, but he couldn’t do it.
He forced himself to wait—listen—count the seconds as his breathing slowed, as his body adjusted to the absence of immediate death.
Could be a trap, Theo, he thought, a war raging within as he contemplated his next action.
His fingers tightened around his pickaxe as his eyes darted across the terrain, searching for any sign that one of them had stayed behind, that this wasn’t just some sick hunting game.
Nothing.
Still, he remained crouched, shifting just slightly to get a better view.
His gaze swept the perimeter, muscles coiled, scanning for movement. The glow of the fantastical flora pulsed faintly, casting long, shifting shadows, but no yellow eyes peered back at him.
They’re gone.
A slow, measured breath.
Now or never, chief.
Theo pushed to his feet, his legs tense and unsteady, and moved carefully toward the mineral deposits. He still felt the raptor-wolves' presence lingering in the back of his mind—like a phantom sensation, something that had been too close for too long.
He exhaled sharply, shifting his grip on the pickaxe.
Come on, man. No point dying scared.
He lunged forward, swinging the pickaxe against the crystalline rock.
The impact rang through the ravine—a deep, reverberating clang that made his fingers tingle.
For a split second, nothing happened.
Then, the struck point flared, an eerie, crackling glow spider webbing outward from the impact site.
Electric arcs of light skittered along the rock’s surface, dancing in jagged, unnatural patterns before collapsing inward—vanishing like embers swallowed by darkness.
Theo barely had time to process it before the glow surged again, flickering like something alive, responding to the strike.
His pulse spiked.
"Shit, Raz did not mention that," he whispered.
He gritted his teeth and swung again.
Another metallic clang. Another burst of light—stronger this time, lingering just a moment longer before fading. A pulse of static crackled through the air, making the hairs on his arms rise.
This stuff is...charged.
The thought was shoved aside as chunks of the mineral finally cracked free.
Theo stuffed them into his pack, his hands fumbling in his rush, the energy from each shattered fragment making his skin tingle as if static electricity was leaping across his fingers.
His breath was sharp and uneven, adrenaline making his hands unsteady.
He wasn’t sure how long whatever caused that noise would keep the raptors distracted.
He turned. And sprinted.
Away from the ravine. Away from whatever the hell he had just disturbed. Away from the very real possibility that those things had just been given a new reason to come looking for him.
The run back was a blur of burning lungs, screaming legs, and the raw, unshakable fear of being something’s next meal. Each step sent bolts of agony tearing through his muscles, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. Sweat blurred his vision, stinging as it dripped into his eyes, but he didn’t dare slow down.
Branches clawed at his arms and face as he crashed through the dense foliage, leaving behind thin, stinging welts. The jungle felt different now, more alive, like it had taken offense at his intrusion.
Every rustling leaf. Every shifting shadow. Every crunch of disturbed undergrowth.
His mind screamed at him to run faster.
The cliff gap loomed ahead—the same one he’d crossed before, when he wasn’t being actively hunted. This time, he didn’t hesitate.
His boots barely kissed the ground before he launched himself forward, legs screaming in protest.
For one breathless moment, he was weightless.
His stomach twisted as the void stretched beneath him—then his feet slammed into the opposite ledge, knees buckling on impact. He stumbled but didn’t stop, forcing himself forward with sheer stubborn will.
Not yet.
Not safe.
Not until he reached—
The threshold of Erasmus’s fortress.
Theo skidded to a halt, bracing his hands on his knees, chest heaving.
He risked a glance over his shoulder.
Nothing.
No snarling, clawed nightmares tearing through the trees. No eerie yellow eyes glaring at him from the undergrowth. Just silence.
But it wasn’t comforting. If anything, it set him more on edge.
The jungle didn’t feel empty.
It felt like it was watching.
A full-body shiver ran down his spine, cold despite the sweat dripping down his back. He was safe. For now.
And yet, even the sight of harmless, fluffy miniature bunny creatures hopping around the entrance made his stomach tighten.
One twitched its nose at him.
Its beady black eyes locked onto his.
Theo involuntarily stepped back.
“Yeah, no,” he muttered, running a shaking hand down his face. “Not today, Satan.”
He forced himself to move, tearing his gaze away from the unsettlingly fearless bunnies. With one last wary glance—because screw this place—he stepped into the relative safety of Erasmus’s domain, resisting the very real urge to collapse right then and there.
His knees nearly gave out the moment he reached the entrance. He slumped against the cold metal, gasping for breath, every muscle in his body on the verge of mutiny.
And, of course, Erasmus was waiting.
Arms crossed. Expression unreadable.
His sharp, icy eyes swept over Theo, taking in the scratches, the shredded clothing, the blood.
“Did some sightseeing then?” Erasmus drawled.
Theo, still panting, managed a lopsided grin. “Sure did. Lovely area. The neighbours seem like dicks, though.”
Erasmus snorted, stepping forward and casually plucking a chunk of glowing mineral from Theo’s pack. He rolled it between his fingers, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied its surface.
Then, with a slow, begrudging nod, he said, “Huh. You didn’t die.” A pause. “Unfortunate. Now I owe myself a bet.”
Theo huffed a breathless laugh, exhaustion threatening to drag him under, but he still mustered a sarcastic smirk. “Damn right I didn’t. Thanks for all your help in that regard.”
Erasmus ignored him, already turning back toward his workbench, the oddest flicker of an expression crossing his face. If Theo didn’t know better, he’d almost call it—
Nope. Not worth unpacking.
“Clean yourself up,” Erasmus said over his shoulder. “Next time, try not to bleed all over my floor when you return.”
Theo let out a short, breathless chuckle and collapsed onto the nearest bench.
His entire body ached—his back, his legs, even the places he hadn’t realized had been bruised by sheer survival—but the victory was his.
He’d proven himself.
And despite Erasmus’s usual gruffness, Theo could tell—the old man was impressed.
Still…
As he caught his breath, a single thought lingered at the back of his mind.
Who—or what—had caused the distraction that saved his life?
