The cave felt smaller once the adrenaline drained away.

  They rested behind its rough wooden walls, the barricades choked with branches and leaves Barrett had dragged into place until it vanished into the mountainside. He’d layered the camouflage carefully with his hands moving on instinct while his mind stayed somewhere else. Orcs or no, this place was quiet enough to breathe. For now.

  Barrett moved through the cave, packing what little he had. Scavenged goblin knives and tarps folded and refolded. A few bundles of dried roots, worms, and meat he’d foraged days ago. Everything had to be ready to move at a moment’s notice.

  Grimm perched on his shoulder, black feathers puffed, watching with unblinking focus.

  Across the space, Maku sat cross-legged, palms open. Mana spheres hovered above his hands, glowing blue and white, orbiting at uneven speeds like restless stars. He stared at them without really seeing them.

  Pippy lay curled in Granny Ida’s lap, exhaustion finally winning. Granny’s fingers combed gently through the girl’s hair, slow and steady, as if anchoring her to the world. Pippy didn’t speak. She just stared at the stone ceiling, eyes glassy.

  Rei sat apart from them all, back against the wall, knees pulled tight to her chest for warmth. She looked carved from stone herself.

  Farther down the cave lay a long shape, wrapped head to toe in tarps and spare cloth.

  Arthur.

  The bravest member of Team Donovan.

  No one looked at him directly.

  They had wanted to bury him, but Barrett wouldn’t allow it, as it would cause too much noise.

  “Shouldn’t we start a fire?” Rei asked at last, her voice echoing faintly.

  Most of them didn’t answer.

  “Can’t risk it,” Barrett said, not turning. “Smoke carries.”

  Grimm shifted, clicking his beak softly.

  “Mister Donovan?” Pippy’s voice was small, hesitant.

  “Yeah, kid?” Barrett said.

  She pointed weakly at the cave wall. Scratched symbols and jagged letters crawled across the stone, half-erased by time, with “DEATH” and “KILL” and other grim words written all over. “What’re the scary words all over your walls?”

  Barrett glanced over, then barked a quiet laugh. “Oh. That? Just some idiot’s idea of a prank.”

  Blank stares met him.

  Maku’s mouth twitched once before he returned his focus to the spinning mana.

  Barrett leaned back against a crate and scanned the group. The air was tight. Grief pressed against everything, unspoken and heavy.

  Pippy slid off Granny’s lap and padded closer to Barrett. She leaned in, whispering. “Um…is it okay that she’s here?”

  Barrett followed her gaze to Rei. He sighed through his nose. He hated moments like this. Hated being the one who had to decide.

  “I get the feeling nobody on Team Donovan likes you,” Maku said calmly, still not looking up.

  Rei blinked, then regained her composure. “What gave you that impression?”

  No one answered.

  “For starters,” Maku continued, “you broke my friend’s heart when you betrayed him.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Barrett muttered, embarrassed.

  Maku glanced up at him. “Wouldn’t you?”

  Barrett shrugged. “I mean…she did try to kill me.”

  Rei frowned. “Did that hurt your feelings?”

  Barrett snorted and chuckled. “Nah. I take it every way except personally”

  Maku blinked. “That…sounded wrong.”

  Barrett cracked a grin despite himself. “Yeah. Yeah it did.”

  Pippy suddenly stood, fists clenched, cheeks flushed red. “Mister Donovan, this isn’t funny! She had Arthur stabbed! She tried to kill you more than once!”

  Her voice shook. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes.

  Barrett’s smile vanished. He crouched, concern knotting his chest. He’d always been bad at moments like this—bad at grief, bad at comfort. Jokes were easier. Silence was easier.

  Rei scoffed. “Don’t blame his death on me. You’re the one who insisted we wait.”

  Barrett straightened sharply. “Rei. That’s too far.”

  Rei opened her mouth, but froze.

  Her eyes bulged. She clutched at her chest, gasping soundlessly.

  “Pippy, no!” Granny cried.

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  Pippy stood rigid, arms outstretched. Blood trickled from her nose, dark against her pale skin.

  Maku tilted his head, more curious than alarmed. “Did she just…stop her heart?”

  “PIPPY, STOP!” Barrett lunged forward and grabbed her shoulders, breaking her concentration.

  Rei collapsed to the stone, coughing and clutching her chest, gulping air like she’d been drowning.

  “She deserves it!” Pippy sobbed, shaking.

  Barrett pulled her into his chest, holding her tight. He didn’t scold her. He didn’t lecture. He didn’t know if he had the right.

  Part of him wondered why he hadn’t done it himself. After all, Jason had done far less to deserve his fate.

  —

  Night settled hard over the mountains, colder than it had any right to be. The air bit at exposed skin sharply. Somewhere deep in the forest, something howled—long and low—answered by another, then another. The sound rolled through the trees.

  Barrett sat just outside the cave mouth, elbows on his knees, staring into the dark.

  Part of him wanted to run.

  It was a quiet, shameful thought, but it was there all the same. His team was bleeding members. Arthur was gone. Pippy was broken. Tana and Lance were MIA. He felt the weight of every decision pressing into his spine, grinding him down. Maybe he wasn’t built for this. Maybe he’d never been fit to lead anyone but himself. Not that he could even lead himself, though he was getting his protein meal timings down before he teleported here.

  But leaving now felt even worse.

  Cowardly.

  After all, he had promised Arthur he’d be brave, and he was a man of his word.

  He exhaled slowly, breath fogging in the cold. Inside the cave, he could hear soft movement. No voices. No laughter. Just the muted sounds of people trying not to fall apart.

  Pippy hadn’t said a word to him since earlier.

  Whether it was shame, anger, or betrayal, he didn’t know. Maybe all three. He told himself to give her time. She’d lost Arthur. Barrett felt that loss too, a hollow ache he refused to look at too closely. Leaders didn’t get to collapse. Not yet. He could break later, when everyone else was safe.

  If that day ever came.

  Another growl drifted through the night, closer this time. Barrett’s jaw tightened. How far were the orcs? Were they still hunting? Or were they simply waiting?

  “It’s all so damn messed up,” he muttered, shaking his head.

  The cave wasn’t a fortress. It was a hiding place. Branches and leaves might fool a passing patrol, but if the orcs came in force, they’d be trapped—penned like cattle.

  Footsteps crunched softly behind him.

  Barrett didn’t turn right away

  Rei slipped out of the cave and sat beside him, close enough that he could feel her body heat almost immediately. She hesitated, then spoke quietly.

  “You mind?”

  Barrett shook his head once.

  She settled in, closer than he’d expected, and after a moment rested her head against his shoulder. He stiffened, then forced himself to relax.

  She’s a viper, he reminded himself.

  Still…it felt good. Too good.

  “You got a plan yet?” she asked, voice low.

  Barrett snorted softly. “Guessing you’re sticking around?”

  “Best chance I’ve got,” she replied without hesitation.

  He nodded. No lies there. “We rest,” he said. “Then we move.”

  A distant howl cut through the night, sharper this time.

  “You think we’ve got time to sit around?” Rei asked.

  “Don’t know,” Barrett admitted. “But the team needs it. Especially Pippy.”

  Rei was quiet for a moment, then nodded.

  She leaned closer, close enough now that he could feel her breath against his neck. They sat like that, listening to the forest breathe, to the crackle of cold and the distant calls of predators.

  After a while, she spoke again.

  “You know what I really like about you?”

  Barrett raised a brow. “Oh yeah?”

  “You’re…real,” she said. “Lately, it feels like the world’s full of guys like Fred, willing to play whatever part they need to survive.”

  Barrett let out a dry laugh. “Then why’d you pick him over me?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Maybe I underestimated you. And overestimated him.”

  Barrett turned his head, fixing her with a hard look. “You really expect that crap to work on me?”

  Rei smiled, a slow, dangerous thing. “Maybe.”

  Barrett snorted. “Unbelievable.”

  She laughed softly and shifted closer, curling against his arm. He felt blood stir where it really shouldn’t have.

  I really am an idiot, he thought.

  The cold deepened. The forest quieted, just enough to let exhaustion creep in. Barrett’s eyes grew heavy, the weight of the day finally catching up to him.

  As the night stretched on, he let his eyes close—just for a moment—while the dark pressed in from all sides.

  —Rei—

  Rei noticed the change in his breathing before anything else—the slow, even cadence of sleep settling in. Barrett’s shoulders eased.

  She studied him in the dim light.

  Even asleep, he kept the sunglasses on. At night. In the cold. It was ridiculous.

  Up close, she had to admit it: the man was handsome. Broad features, hard lines softened just enough by exhaustion. The kind of face that could sell magazines or front some ridiculous action movie franchise. But then there was the rest of him—too blunt, too loud, too honest. An oaf, really. Completely not her type.

  Fred had been a calculation. Barrett was chaos.

  What he’d done to Jason had intrigued her at first. The decisiveness. The brutality. But the longer she watched him, the more she realized it wasn’t the real him. He could play the barbarian when the moment demanded it—but beneath that? There was something else. Something inconvenient.

  A tender heart.

  The thought made her scowl faintly.

  Disgusting.

  She shifted, carefully disentangling herself from him. He didn’t stir.

  Rei slipped into the cave.

  Inside, the air was still and close. Shadows clung to the stone like damp fabric. As she passed deeper in, she spotted him. The Asian man. Barrett’s friend. The one in the puffer jacket.

  Something about him set her teeth on edge.

  He leaned against the cave wall, posture loose, attention seemingly elsewhere. Mana orbs rotated lazily around his hand, glowing blue, silent. Too controlled. Too calm. Rei prided herself on reading people, and everything in her screamed the same warning:

  Stay away from this one.

  His voice stopped her.

  “Watch it with my buddy up there.” He said low and smooth, without any threat in his tone—not that he needed one.

  Rei paused and turned. “Pardon?”

  He didn’t look angry. Didn’t even look especially focused. The mana spheres continued their lazy orbit as he stepped closer.

  “I’ll keep it simple,” he said. “You hurt him, you die.”

  Then his eyes lifted to hers—cold, assessing.

  “Painfully.”

  Rei snorted. “What is this, you two got a thing?”

  “Yeah,” he replied easily. “He’s my best friend. And I love him.”

  She blinked at him, taken aback.

  He tilted his head slightly.

  “Any other dumbass questions?”

  Rei stared at him for a long moment.

  Then she turned away without another word, the faintest flicker of unease curling in her chest as she moved deeper into the cave.

  —Barrett—

  Barrett stood at the center of the group as dawn bled weak light into the cave, painting the stone walls in cold grays and muted gold. Everyone looked worn down.

  Pippy sat close to Granny, knees drawn to her chest, her face turned away from the others. She hadn’t said a word since the night before. Not to him. Not to anyone. Only Granny received the occasional whisper.

  Maku lay sprawled against the rock wall as if the world weren’t trying to kill them. Blue mana spheres drifted around his fingers in slow, deliberate orbits. His eyes were half-lidded, but Barrett knew better. Maku missed nothing.

  Rei sat apart, posture tight, gaze flicking between Barrett and Maku like she was measuring distance to exits that didn’t exist yet.

  The cave felt heavier—thick with unspoken things, with grief, with questions no one wanted to ask first.

  Barrett inhaled slowly and let it out.

  “Alright,” he said, voice rough but steady. “I owe you all some answers.”

  A few heads lifted. Even Pippy shifted slightly, though she didn’t look at him.

  “About…all of this,” Barrett continued, gesturing vaguely to the cave, the forest beyond, the world. “And about Gateway.”

  The mana spheres around Maku stilled. Rei’s eyes sharpened. Pippy and Granny sat up.

  Barrett squared his shoulders.