He strained his hearing, trying to pierce the curtain of sound created by the rain, searching for the slightest abnormal noise. But every drop striking the ground, every trickle of water, merged into a deafening hum that drowned out his senses. He took a deep breath. A metallic taste filled his mouth. Adrenaline. Stress. He clenched his teeth and resumed walking. Stopping would mean giving the initiative to whatever threatened him. And if something was stalking him, perhaps it was waiting for nightfall to strike. Adam moved forward, slowly. His body was taut, like a cord ready to snap. Every step, every motion was calculated. The metal bar was clenched tightly in his right hand, pointed forward, an extension of his vigilance.

  Suddenly.

  A furtive movement to his right. A shadow.

  His heart exploded in his chest. He spun around sharply. Blaster raised. Finger brushing the trigger. Breath held.

  Two trees with massive trunks stood before him. Behind them… nothing.

  Nothing.

  He froze for a second, then resumed walking. But he knew. His mind screamed that it had not been an illusion.

  Something was there. Hidden.

  His boots sank into the mud with a sticky squelch. Every sound he made gave him the unpleasant feeling of betraying his position. Yet the entire environment seemed to conspire to conceal that of his predator.

  A crack.

  His blood ran cold.

  This time, to the left. Clear. Close.

  Adam turned instantly, blaster aimed at the source of the sound. His breathing stopped.

  Trees. Always the same emptiness.

  But he was no longer fooled.

  That broken branch…

  It was confirmation.

  He was not alone.

  He was being followed. Hunted.

  His instinct now screamed what his mind refused to accept: something was moving in the shadows. Stealthy. Calculating. Invisible… but ready to strike.

  Taking a step back, Adam pressed himself against a tree, melting into its shadow. He held his breath, trying to calm the turmoil in his chest. Each heartbeat thundered like a war drum.

  He listened.

  Beneath the pounding rain, he tried to locate the source of the sound, to pierce the sonic veil imposed by the downpour.

  His blaster, anchored firmly in his grip, remained trained on the shifting darkness. His gaze swept through the gloom, hunting for the slightest anomaly, the faintest movement.

  Another crack.

  Closer. Louder.

  Something was approaching, slipping between the trees.

  A burning shiver ran through him. Danger was there, invisible, lurking just beyond sight.

  The rain intensified, thickening the nocturnal haze. The air, heavy with moisture, seemed to press in around him.

  Then, the sensation returned.

  Brutal. Precise.

  Like on Oberon V.

  He knew this feeling. It wasn’t fear… it was an alert.

  Like a sixth sense. A sudden prescience. A fleeting vision of an imminent future.

  The monster would strike from his right.

  A lightning-fast leap. An attack aimed at his throat.

  In a reflex as sharp as instinct, Adam pivoted right, blaster raised, ready to fire, metal bar lifted like a blade.

  At that exact moment, a shadow burst from the undergrowth.

  A savage leap.

  The air itself seemed to tear under the speed of the assault. The atmosphere exploded.

  A flash of red light.

  The blaster shot tore through the rain, bathing the forest in a scarlet glow. A brutal crack. The detonation echoed, rebounding off the trunks, dissolving into the storm.

  The plasma struck its target.

  A piercing, almost unreal shriek ripped through the air, mingling with the roar of the rain.

  Adam barely had time to make out the creature. But what he saw burned instantly into his mind:

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  Four glowing eyes above an enormous maw filled with multiple rows of sharp teeth. Its forelimbs, long and powerful, ended in massive clawed hands ready to rend.

  Quadruped… or semi-biped?

  It didn’t matter.

  The impact stopped it dead. It staggered back a step, reeled—then vanished into the shadows of the trees.

  A suspended moment.

  Adam did not move.

  His fingers were still tight on the trigger. His breathing was ragged. His heart hammered against his ribcage.

  Had he truly wounded it? Or merely driven it back?

  A wounded beast was far more dangerous.

  He didn’t wait to find out.

  He had to run. Now.

  His body reacted before his mind.

  Impulse.

  He sprinted.

  Bushes snapped under his passage, branches lashed his face without slowing him. Mud clung to his boots, dragging at every step. But he accelerated.

  Faster.

  Faster than a Neurorian. Faster than on Oberon.

  The wind howled in his ears. The rain battered the canopy like a war drum. Each step was a fight against the soaked ground, against the heavy air, against the fear that pursued him.

  But nothing stopped him.

  Trees blurred around him, their trunks and branches warped by his speed, like looming shadows ready to swallow him.

  The forest screamed.

  A chaos of cracks, rustles, branches whipped by the storm, blending the thunder of his run with the fury of the rain.

  He leapt sideways, narrowly avoiding a trunk, slalomed between two trees—right, left—then vaulted a slick rock. A sharp turn. A slide through the mud. Another obstacle cleared on instinct.

  Nothing else mattered.

  His goal was clear: reach the crash trench. Reach the second half of the ship. Find shelter.

  Before nightfall. Before the monster returned. Before something worse emerged.

  His breath was a rasp, fast and broken. Icy air burned down his throat with every inhale. His muscles screamed, his legs protested, but he refused to slow.

  He couldn’t slow.

  In his mind, the image of the creature lingered, obsessive. And the thought that something else might also roam this merciless forest only drove him faster.

  The forest thinned as Adam neared the trench. The trees grew sparser, revealing the gaping wound that scarred the land. Hope crept in, fragile, fighting the fatigue crushing his muscles. His thoughts raced.

  “If I reach the ship, maybe I can find something to defend myself… or shelter.”

  He vaulted treacherous roots, cut through thick ferns, sweat running down his temples, mingling with the rain. At last, the shadow of the trench loomed ahead, a vast gash in the green ocean.

  He was close.

  With one last push, he burst from the brush onto the edge of the trench. A wasteland stretched beneath his eyes: uprooted trees, twisted ship debris scattered for kilometers. A breath of relief escaped his lips. Just a few hundred more meters…

  But he couldn’t let his guard down.

  The forest’s silence was not a blessing. It was a trap. A latent threat that could erupt at any moment. Clutching his blaster, Adam rushed toward the wreckage, praying to find Kiran… or at least a sign he had survived.

  The light was fading. Twilight stretched the shadows, adding a new tension to his ordeal. Every passing second made his situation more precarious. He had to find refuge inside the ship. Turning back? Unthinkable.

  At last, he reached the carcass. Warped metal. Fragments strewn like the remnants of a chaotic puzzle. Without hesitation, he slipped inside. Darkness swallowed him, cold and immediate.

  Guided by memory, he made his way toward what remained of the cockpit.

  Empty.

  Kiran’s seat was there—but his friend was not. No trace. Nothing.

  Anxiety tightened in his gut. Where was he? Had he left the wreck voluntarily? Was he injured, wandering somewhere out there?

  Or worse…

  Had he been taken?

  Adam froze, trying to steady his breath, to calm the frantic pounding of his heart.

  “No… No, it’s impossible the creature took him.”

  His voice shattered the oppressive silence of the wreck. No blood. It was unlikely.

  A distant, sinister roar echoed through the trench like a grim omen. Panic surged back, merciless.

  Adam bolted toward the interior.

  There, at the edge of the trench, a nightmarish silhouette stood motionless in the gloom. Waiting. The monster was there.

  Adrenaline hurled him backward. Run. He sprinted through the shattered corridors of the ship, breath ragged, heart slamming. He had one hope: that the quarters were still standing, intact, somewhere he could hide.

  At last, a flicker of hope.

  The room was still there. Almost intact.

  With frantic strength, Adam wedged the metal bar into his hands and forced the door with desperate fury. The metal shrieked, screeched, its cry piercing the oppressive silence. One final shove. The door gave way with a protesting groan.

  He threw himself inside, slammed it shut, and jammed the locking mechanism with the bar. He was safe.

  For now.

  Still panting, he turned, sweeping the room with his eyes.

  His blood froze.

  Strapped to the bed, Zena lay there. Motionless. Her lifeless body was fixed in a deceptive peace. The air was heavy, saturated with that acrid, sickening smell that left no doubt about her fate.

  A shiver ran through Adam.

  But better the smell of death…

  …than the grasp of a starving monster.

  Adam approached Zena in silence, a dull melancholy weighing on his chest. The memory of Oberon V struck him full force. Everything that had followed, without pause, that frantic struggle to survive… He hadn’t even had time to grasp the magnitude of the tragedy.

  He swallowed hard and murmured, almost to himself:

  “Zena… I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to spend the night here with you, okay?”

  His gaze lingered on his friend, frozen in a false peace.

  “It’s just that… I don’t really feel like getting eaten by that… thing.”

  A bitter smirk twisted his lips. The irony of his words hit him. He shook his head, letting out a hollow breath before adding more softly:

  “Pff… What am I saying… She’s not here anymore.”

  The weight of that truth crashed down on him with unexpected violence.

  He slid down the wall, sitting heavily on the cold floor. His nerves finally broke. The tears he had held back for too long escaped in silence, burning, carving wet paths down his exhausted face. A muffled sob echoed through the room, shattering the stillness like an echo of his despair.

  He breathed deeply, trying to regain control. He lifted his canteen to his lips, drank a few mouthfuls, then lay down on the metal floor.

  Night was falling, swallowing the forest in an abyss of shadows.

  Outside, the rain continued its macabre symphony, pounding the hull with almost hypnotic intensity. Each drop sounded like a warning, a reminder of the danger prowling beyond. The world outside seemed just as hostile as the inside of this torn carcass.

  But at least, here, he was sheltered.

  He cast one last glance at his blaster, resting within reach. He knew this night would be neither peaceful nor restful. But tomorrow, he would rise. Tomorrow, he would find Kiran.

  Because he had no other choice.