Reiner had seen bad injuries before.

  He’d seen men crushed under the weight of Ravagers, their bodies barely held together by broken bones and torn sinew. He’d seen hunters gutted, their insides spilling out onto the dirt, somehow still breathing through the pain.

  But he’d never seen someone heal like this.

  Jarek shouldn’t have been able to sit up yet. Shouldn’t have been able to swing his legs over the edge of the cot, testing his balance, rolling his shoulder as if his body hadn’t been on the brink of shutting down just two nights ago.

  Yet here he was.

  Reiner leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “That’s unnatural.”

  Jarek flexed his fingers, testing his grip. “So is most of the shit in this world.”

  Reiner scoffed but didn’t argue.

  He wasn’t about to tell the kid exactly what he had slipped into his water. It was a relic from another time, something that forced the body to knit itself back together faster than it had any right to. It worked, but there was always a cost.

  Jarek didn’t ask.

  And that was what bothered him the most.

  “Halvark’s making moves,” Reiner said, watching him closely.

  Jarek barely reacted, only tilting his head slightly.

  Reiner frowned. “Not just another assassin this time. A strike team. Predator-ranked hunters. More than one.”

  Jarek didn’t curse. Didn’t tense.

  He just nodded.

  Like he’d already known.

  Reiner studied him, waiting for something—hesitation, fear, maybe even a plan.

  Nothing.

  “They’re gathering intel first,” he continued. “Bounty hunters sniffing around. Listening for rumors. If you stay here, someone’s going to sell you out.”

  Jarek exhaled, rubbing his temple with two fingers. A small movement, subtle—but Reiner knew what it meant.

  He was checking himself.

  Reiner had done the same thing.

  Jarek lowered his hand. “Then I need to move.”

  Reiner tilted his head. “Where?”

  Jarek’s grip on his sword tightened.

  “The Apex.”

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  Reiner exhaled sharply. “You’re serious?”

  Jarek nodded.

  Reiner ran a hand through his hair. He’d known this was coming the moment Jarek walked through the door—alive, but different.

  But he’d still hoped the kid was smarter than this.

  “You do realize what you’re walking into, right?”

  Jarek said nothing.

  Reiner sighed. “They call it the Stormfang.”

  Jarek frowned.

  Reiner’s fingers drummed against the table. “You ever hear about the hunters that tried to track it down?”

  Jarek shook his head.

  “Exactly,” Reiner said. “Because none of them made it back.”

  Jarek didn’t blink.

  Reiner scoffed. “This thing doesn’t just move fast. It accelerates. One second it’s there, the next—” He snapped his fingers. “It’s already tearing out your throat. It burns energy in bursts, but that first attack? If you don’t see it coming, you won’t see anything ever again.”

  Jarek exhaled. “Then I’ll see it coming.”

  Reiner studied him for a long moment. Then he laughed. A dry, exhausted sound.

  “You’re out of your damn mind.”

  Jarek smirked. “Not the first time I’ve heard that.”

  Reiner shook his head, pushing himself up from his chair. “Fine. If you’re dead set on this, at least don’t go in blind.”

  Jarek raised a brow.

  Reiner gestured toward the door. “Come on. Let’s talk strategy.”

  The ruins loomed ahead, swallowed by mist.

  Jarek crouched at the edge of a crumbling archway, scanning the shifting fog.

  This place had been a city once. Now, it was nothing more than a skeleton of stone and broken towers, half-swallowed by time. The mist clung to the ruins like a second skin, twisting and curling through the shattered streets.

  It was the perfect hunting ground.

  For something that moved faster than thought.

  Jarek exhaled, adjusting his grip on his sword.

  The Stormfang wasn’t just another Apex-tier beast.

  It was the fastest thing ever recorded.

  And he was going to hunt it.

  He wouldn’t rely on sight.

  The mist blurred everything anyway. Instead, he’d listen. Feel the shift in the air. Track the pressure changes, the way the wind moved around it. If he could predict where it would land—

  Maybe he could land a hit first.

  Jarek steadied his breathing. His heart pounded against his ribs, but he wasn’t afraid.

  He was focused.

  And then—

  The world went silent.

  No wind. No distant echoes of settling stone. Nothing.

  Jarek’s grip tightened.

  A shadow flickered in the mist.

  Then another.

  Too fast.

  Jarek forced himself to stay still, every muscle coiled, waiting—

  And then the Stormfang stepped into view.

  It was monstrous in its grace, a thing built for nothing but speed and precision. Its body was lean, honed to lethal perfection, dark fur rippling over compact muscle. A mane of jagged, spiked quills ran down its spine, each one pulsing faintly with energy.

  But its eyes—its eyes burned gold.

  The air shifted.

  Jarek’s pulse hammered.

  A low, electric hum filled the ruins, vibrating in his bones. The mist curled toward the Apex, drawn to it like the air itself was bending around its presence.

  The veins beneath its dark fur pulsed.

  Slowly at first.

  Then brighter.

  And brighter.

  Until the first arc of lightning snapped across its body.

  Jarek’s breath caught.

  The charge spread instantly, crackling along its limbs, illuminating the deep ridges of its muscles. The mist around it hissed and vaporized, the air distorting from sheer energy.

  Jarek’s instincts screamed.

  Then—

  The world exploded.

  The Stormfang vanished. Or maybe it moved.

  A sound detonated through the ruins—a thunderclap at point-blank range. The ground shattered where it had been standing, stone slabs cratering inward from the sheer force of its acceleration.

  A streak of red and black tore through the ruins, trailing burning mist and arcs of uncontrolled lightning. The air itself twisted in its wake, warping like space was breaking apart just trying to contain its speed.

  Jarek had expected fast.

  He hadn’t expected this.

  His body reacted before his mind could process—he twisted sharply, throwing himself to the side. But even as he moved—

  The Stormfang was already there.

  Time fractured. The beast flickered, phasing in and out of existence. The crackling glow of its veins surged brighter, hotter, illuminating the mist, casting the ruins in a red-gold storm of light.

  Jarek barely had time to raise his sword.

  The air collapsed inward.

  And the Stormfang came crashing down.