A group of people wake up in a video game world and are forced to work together to survive and find out how to escape.

“I should’ve gone back home when I had the chance.”

Chapter 25 recap

Suddenly, a tendril shoots out faster than I can react, wrapping around my waist and yanking me off the sled. The ground slams into me hard, knocking the wind out of my lungs as the world spins violently.

“Artemis!” I hear Lorien yell, his voice full of panic.

“Artemis!” Kaida’s voice follows, but it’s growing fainter.

I force myself to look up, seeing the sled skidding further downhill, the others unable to stop or turn back without flipping. My heart pounds as I struggle against the tendril, my hands clawing at the shadowy mass holding me.

“Let me go!” I shout, twisting and kicking with all my strength.

But then I freeze, realizing something horrifying—the creatures aren’t chasing the sled anymore. The shadowy masses, with their glowing eyes and crooked smiles, are all focused on me.

“They want you,” Shade says in my head, his voice unusually quiet, almost… depressed.

“What?” I think back, my breath coming in sharp gasps as I continue to fight.

“They don’t care about the others,” Shade continues, his tone heavy. “You’re their target. You’ve always been their target.”

Chapter 26

I try to push the thought aside, focusing on the tendril pulling me closer to the writhing creatures. “Why?! What do they want from me?”

Shade doesn’t answer, and the silence sends a chill down my spine worse than the icy air around me.

The tendril tightens around my waist, and I feel the pull stronger now, dragging me toward the nearest creature, its glowing purple eyes locked on me.

“Why do they want me?” I think desperately, my heart racing as I struggle against the shadows.

“They feel me,” Shade says, his voice heavy, almost bitter. “But they don’t even remember why they need us. They’ve been waiting too long.”

“What?! Why would they ever have wanted me? I just got here!” I snap.

“It doesn’t matter,” Shade says sharply, his tone more urgent now. “We need to find a way out of this.”

“What exactly are they going to do if we don’t?!” I shout back, panic clawing at my mind as another tendril reaches for my arm.

“I don’t know,” Shade admits, and the rare uncertainty in his voice makes my blood run cold.

I twist and kick, my mind racing for a solution. The shadows are growing thicker around me, their tendrils coiling like snakes, and the creature’s crooked grin stretches wider as it looms closer.

“Shade, help me!” I think, desperation making my thoughts louder.

“I can’t risk exposing myself completely—not like this,” he says, his voice tight. “But I’ll do what I can.”

Suddenly, I feel a surge of energy ripple through me, faint and fleeting, but just enough to loosen the tendril’s grip. Then I feel a pulsation from me, and I tumble free, hitting the ground hard.

“Move, Artemis!” Shade commands. “Now!”

I twist my body, pressing myself flat against the icy ground, angling to slide downhill as fast as I can. No sled, no protection—just me and the steep slope, the snow stinging against my skin as I pick up speed.

The icy surface burns through my clothes, the friction threatening to tear at my skin, but I grit my teeth and force myself to focus. The screeches behind me are deafening, the creatures relentless in their pursuit.

“Faster, Artemis!” Shade’s voice snaps in my mind, sharp and commanding. “Don’t stop—don’t let them catch you!”

“I’m trying!” I say breath catching in my throat as the jagged terrain rushes past me.

The ground beneath me becomes rougher, patches of rock and ice jutting out at dangerous angles. I twist my body left, narrowly avoiding a sharp outcropping, only to veer right and dodge another. My heart pounds in my chest, every second feeling like it could be my last.

Above me, the shadowy tendrils whip against the air, reaching out. One slams into the ground beside me, narrowly missing as I slide just out of reach.

“Keep moving!” Shade shouts, his voice cutting through the chaos.

My body screams in protest, the icy ground tearing at me, but I push through the pain, forcing myself not to stop to not hold on to anything. I have to make it—I have to survive.

The screeches grow fainter behind me, but I don’t dare look back. Not yet. All I can do is keep sliding and hope the others are still safe ahead.

Suddenly, I see it—a sharp turn ahead in the slope. Panic seizes me as I try to angle my body, twisting and leaning desperately to stay on the path. But it’s no use. The icy ground doesn’t let me grip or steer.

I go flying off the edge of the mountain.

The air tears past me as I fall, the world spinning into a chaotic blur of white snow and jagged rock. My stomach drops, the weightless sensation terrifying as I plummet further and further.

“Artemis!” Shade’s voice cuts through the noise, sharp and commanding. “Brace yourself!”

“For what?!” I think back, panic gripping my mind.

The fall feels endless, but suddenly, I slam into something hard—snow, rock, and ice. My body bounces, tumbling uncontrollably down another steep slope. The impacts knock the air from my lungs, pain shooting through every limb as I roll and slide, unable to stop myself.

Finally, I come to a crashing halt against a large outcropping of rock. The world around me spins, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. My entire body feels like it’s on fire, and for a moment, I can’t tell if anything’s broken.

“Get up!” Shade’s voice snaps, his urgency pulling me back to the present. “They’re still coming. Move!”

Through blurry vision, I glance up at the ledge far above me. The shadowy creatures are already racing down toward me, their glowing eyes locked on their target.

Gritting my teeth, I force myself to move. My entire body scream in protest, but I claw my way to my feet. The terrain is uneven, sharp rocks and patches of ice everywhere, but I start running downhill again, desperate to escape.

The screeches grow louder behind me, and I know they’re not going to stop until I’m theirs—or gone.

I can feel it—Shade’s energy working to patch me up, the sharp, burning pain in my body dulling with every passing second. But it’s bad. The fall left me battered, and even with Shade’s help, I know I’m far from okay.

I glance around as I run, realizing I don’t recognize this part of the mountain at all. The terrain is harsher here, with jagged rocks jutting out and patches of ice that threaten to send me sprawling again.

“I wasn’t in this part of the mountain before,” I think, my heart racing as I navigate the unfamiliar path. “I have no idea where I’m going.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Shade says bluntly. “Down is the only direction you need to care about right now. Just go.”

The screeches are distant now, but I know better than to feel relieved. They’re still out there, still hunting me, and I don’t know how long I can keep outrunning them.

My breath comes in ragged gasps, the cold air biting at my lungs as I move as fast as my legs will carry me. I can’t stop. I can’t let them catch me.

Ahead, the slope starts to level out slightly, and I feel a flicker of hope. Maybe—just maybe—I can use this stretch to recover a bit, to catch my breath and think of a plan.

But even as that thought crosses my mind, I hear the faint echoes of screeches behind me, growing louder again. They’re coming.

I grit my teeth and push harder, forcing every ounce of energy I have left into running. My legs scream in protest, the bruises and cuts from the fall making every step agony, but I can’t stop. I won’t stop.

The screeches behind me grow louder, sharper, piercing through the cold mountain air like a warning. They’re coming, and I know if I slow down for even a second, they’ll catch me.

“Faster, Artemis!” Shade barks in my mind, his voice cutting through the fog of panic and exhaustion. “You’re not done yet!”

“I know!” I snap back, my breath ragged as I leap over a patch of jagged rocks, nearly losing my balance on the ice below.

The slope ahead grows steeper, and I lean forward, using the momentum to pick up speed. The icy ground blurs beneath me, and my heart pounds in my chest as I race downward.

“Keep your footing!” Shade warns. “One wrong move, and you’re done!”

“I’m aware!” I shout, dodging a sharp outcropping of rock and narrowly avoiding another patch of ice.

My lungs burn with every breath, the cold air cutting into me like knives. But the fear—the absolute terror—of what’s chasing me is enough to keep me going.

I don’t dare look back. I don’t need to. I can feel them, their presence pressing against me like a shadowy weight.

Maybe I can hide, I think, my eyes darting around as I jump down a short ledge, landing awkwardly on the icy ground below. My legs wobble, threatening to give out, but I catch myself and crouch low, scanning for cover.

“They’ll find you,” Shade says, his voice cutting through my thoughts like a blade.

“Right, of course they will,” I mutter bitterly, already pushing myself back to my feet. “Okay, running more it is.”

I force myself forward again, my body screaming in protest with every step. This is definitely not the way anyone is meant to descend a mountain—leaping off ledges, sliding over patches of ice, dodging jagged rocks—but I don’t have a choice.

Another screech echoes behind me, closer this time, and I know I’m running out of time.

“Keep moving,” Shade urges, his voice steady despite the chaos. “The terrain might slow them down if you use it right. Stay unpredictable.”

“Unpredictable?” I think back, barely able to focus as my feet skid over loose snow. “I’m barely staying on my feet as it is!”

“Then fall forward, not backward,” he snaps. “Survival first. Grace later.”

I spot another drop ahead, this one steeper than the last. There’s no time to think—I just leap, tucking my body and landing in a clumsy roll that sends sharp pain shooting through my side.

I groan, forcing myself up again. I can’t stop now. Not for anything.

The terrain ahead levels out slightly, a narrow path cutting through jagged rock formations. It’s not ideal, but it’s the only direction left to go. Please let this lead somewhere, I think desperately as I push forward.

I bolt down the narrow path, the jagged rocks on either side making it feel like the mountain itself is closing in on me. The screeches behind me continue to grow louder.

The snow beneath my boots gives way to ice, and my foot slips. My arms flail as I barely catch myself, using the rocky wall for balance. My breathing is ragged, each inhale burning in my chest.

“Keep going!” Shade snaps, his voice pressing against the exhaustion threatening to overwhelm me. “They’re gaining!”

I know, I think, panic bubbling in my mind. I can feel them.

The path curves again, and I push myself harder, ignoring the sharp ache in my legs. The jagged rocks shift into sheer cliff walls, towering on either side of me. The narrow path twists downward, but the steepness makes it impossible to move without nearly slipping.

Another screech echoes, this one so close it feels like it’s right behind me. I glance back, my heart sinking as I see the purple glow of their eyes, their shadowy forms twisting and writhing as they crawl along the walls, closing the gap between us.

“They’re faster in tight spaces,” Shade says grimly.

“Thanks for the heads up!” I think back bitterly, my voice trembling in my mind.

I push forward, scanning the narrow path ahead. Up ahead, the cliff walls widen slightly, opening into a larger, flatter area. I force myself toward it, my legs threatening to give out with every step.

Just as I reach the opening, one of the creatures lunges from the shadows, its tendrils lashing out like whips.

“Duck!” Shade yells.

I drop to the ground instinctively, the tendrils whipping above me, narrowly missing my head. My heart pounds as I scramble to my feet, sprinting toward the open space.

“Keep moving!” Shade urges. “Don’t stop now!”

I dodge another tendril, weaving between the rocks, my mind racing. There has to be something here I can use. Some way to slow them down.

But the screeches are everywhere now, echoing through the narrow space, and I know I’m running out of options.

“I hate this world,” I mutter under my breath, my voice trembling as I push myself harder, forcing my legs to keep moving despite the pain.

“Focus,” Shade snaps sharply in my mind. “Hating it won’t keep you alive. Surviving will.”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” I think bitterly, dodging another tendril as it slams into the ground beside me, spraying snow and debris everywhere. My heart pounds so hard I feel like it’s going to burst.

The uneven terrain makes every step treacherous. My foot slips again, and I hit the ground hard, the icy surface scraping against my hands as I try to catch myself.

“Get up!” Shade shouts, his voice commanding. “They’re closing in!”

“I know!” I snap back, forcing myself upright, my legs shaking beneath me. I glance back for just a second and immediately regret it—the creatures are right behind me now, their glowing purple eyes burning into me, their mouths twisted into crooked, toothy grins.

A tendril lashes out, nearly catching my arm. I throw myself to the side, barely avoiding it, and roll awkwardly to my feet again. “Why is this happening?!” I shout aloud, frustration and fear boiling over.

“Because you’re in their world,” Shade says, his voice low but steady. “This is what it means to be hunted.”

“Well, I’m sick of it!” I yell, tears stinging my eyes as I leap over another rock. “I didn’t ask for any of this!”

“You didn’t,” Shade says quietly. “But you’re here. So run, Artemis. Run until there’s nothing left to chase.”

“You telling me to run isn’t really helping, you know!” I snap, frustration boiling over as I dodge another tendril that slams into the ground beside me.

“What do you want me to say?” Shade replies, his tone sharp but unshaken. “There’s no miracle solution here. Running is what’s keeping you alive.”

“Barely!” I think back, stumbling over a patch of uneven ground. “If you’ve got some brilliant plan, now’s the time to share it!”

Shade hesitates for a moment, and that pause makes my stomach drop.

“Well?” I press, my voice frantic as I weave through the jagged rocks, the creatures’ screeches ringing in my ears.

“I told you—they’re like me, but mindless,” he says finally, his voice tight. “They’re drawn to you because of me, because they can feel what I am through you. If you want to get away…”

His voice trails off, and my heart sinks. “If I want to get away, what?”

“You’ll have to let me take control,” he says quietly, almost reluctantly.

My legs falter for a moment, nearly sending me sprawling again. “What? No! That’s—no!”

“It’s the only way,” Shade insists, his voice steady now. “They’ll listen to me. They won’t stop chasing you, Artemis. Not unless I make them.”

I bite back a curse, my mind spinning. Do I trust him? Do I really let him take control? The creatures are gaining, their tendrils lashing out closer and closer.

“Make a choice, Artemis,” Shade says, his voice cutting through my panic. “Run until you can’t anymore, or let me handle this. But decide fast—because they’re almost on you.”

“What do you mean they might listen to you?” I demand, dodging another tendril that slams into the ground beside me.

“No time!” Shade snaps, his voice sharp and urgent. “Yes or no, Artemis—right now!”

I hesitate for only a second, my mind racing. The screeches are deafening now, the creatures so close I can feel the icy chill of their presence.

“Do it!” I think, panic flooding my thoughts. “Just do it!”

Suddenly, I feel Shade surge to the forefront of my mind, a cold, overwhelming presence washing over me. My body freezes for a moment as the world seems to tilt, my limbs moving without my control.

“Relax,” Shade says, his voice calm but commanding. “I’ve got this.”

My vision dims slightly, everything taking on a shadowy, distorted hue. The air feels heavier, darker, like the very essence of the mountain is pressing down around us.

The creatures screech again, but this time, they slow. Their glowing eyes flicker, their tendrils hesitating mid-strike as they stare at me—or rather, at Shade.

“That’s right,” Shade says aloud, his voice reverberating through the air, low and almost otherworldly. “You feel me, don’t you? You remember me.”

The creatures seem to shudder, their twisted forms rippling as they retreat slightly. Their screeches soften into low, guttural growls, and their tendrils coil inward, no longer reaching for me.

“Good,” Shade mutters, his tone filled with a dangerous edge. “Now stay back.”

The creatures hesitate, their glowing eyes flicking between me and the shadows surrounding me. Slowly, they begin to withdraw, their forms melting into the darkness around them.

When the last of them disappears, Shade pulls back, his presence fading just enough for me to move again. My body sags with relief, and I drop to my knees, gasping for breath.

“You’re welcome,” Shade says, his tone almost smug but still laced with a hint of exhaustion.

“What… what just happened?” I think, my heart still racing.

“I’ll explain later,” Shade replies. “For now, just get moving. They’re gone, but it won’t last forever.”

“I hope the others are okay,” I think, my mind flashing to their sled speeding away, helpless against the mountain’s chaos.

“They should be fine,” Shade says casually. “Unless they careened off the side of the mountain.”

“How comforting,” I mutter, rolling my eyes despite the situation.

I glance around, trying to make sense of the jagged terrain and unfamiliar path. “How am I even supposed to find the others now?”

“I’ll lead you to them,” Shade says, his tone matter-of-fact.

“You can do that?” I ask, surprised.

“You’ve never needed it before—well, not while awake,” he replies smoothly.

I stop mid-step, realization hitting me. “Wait, you did this back at the castle, didn’t you? To find them?”

“Yes,” Shade admits simply.

I let out a frustrated sigh. “They’re going to want answers, you know. About how I just magically knew where they were. And honestly? I need answers, too.”

Nothing. No reply.

“Seriously?” I snap, my thoughts sharp and cutting. “You’re just going to ignore me now?”

Still nothing.

I clench my fists, anger and exhaustion mingling in my chest. “Shade!”

“You can’t just ignore me!” I shout angrily, frustration bubbling over as I stumble forward through the uneven terrain. “You need to explain! Why did they listen to you? Why did they want me?”

Silence.

“Hello?!” I shout, desperation creeping into my voice.

Nothing. Not even the faintest flicker of a response.

“Great,” I mutter, my voice echoing faintly in the stillness. “Back to being alone.”

The weight of it hits me harder than I expected. I glance up at the jagged cliffs around me, the mountain now eerily silent. No screeches, no tendrils clawing at the ground—just me, my ragged breathing, and the emptiness.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus. Shade or no Shade, I have to keep moving. I’ll figure this out later. For now, I need to find the others.

But as I press forward, the weight of unanswered questions gnaws at the edges of my mind, making every step feel heavier.

The wind howls around me, sharp and relentless, cutting through my clothes like a blade. This side of the mountain is brutal—jagged rocks jutting out at awkward angles, the terrain uneven and treacherous. The cold bites at my skin, seeping into my bones until it’s almost unbearable.

And I’m alone.

Left with nothing but the sound of the wind and the weight of my thoughts.

Why did they want me? Why did they listen to Shade? Why won’t he answer me now?

I wrap my arms around myself as I climb down another icy ledge, my breath coming out in short, shaky gasps. What am I even supposed to do? How am I supposed to keep everyone safe if I don’t even understand what’s happening to me?

The ground beneath me shifts slightly, a patch of loose snow and ice giving way, and I have to throw my weight forward to keep from slipping again. My knees hit the ground hard, and I let out a frustrated groan.

“Get up, Artemis,” I mutter to myself, pushing back to my feet. “You’ve survived this much. You can survive a little more.”

But the cold feels heavier now, the weight of the silence pressing down on me. Even with Shade gone quiet, I can still feel him—just faintly. A presence lingering at the edge of my thoughts, like a shadow.

Why does it feel so much worse when he’s silent? I shake my head, forcing the thought away. I don’t have time for this.

I press on, the wind whipping at my hair, the sheer emptiness of the mountainside making every step feel like it stretches on forever. I have to find the others. I just hope they’re okay.

I can feel it—this faint, unshakable connection through Shade. The others are far, farther than I’d like. Maybe they’ve made it all the way to the base of the mountain by now. I just hope I can reach them before anything else happens.

The wind stings my face as I take another shaky step down the uneven slope. My thoughts are swirling as much as the snow around me.

How am I even supposed to explain this? I sigh, my breath visible in the icy air. How I knew something was in the cave, how I just knew we couldn’t fight them… how I felt those things were after me.

My boots skid slightly on the icy ground, and I catch myself against a jagged rock, the sharp edges biting into my hand. I let out a frustrated groan, brushing the snow from my clothes as I keep moving.

“Maybe they won’t ask,” I mutter, knowing full well they will. Hrothgar will want answers. Kaida is always curious. And Veyron? He won’t let me live it down if I don’t explain something.

And then there’s Lorien. How am I going to tell him about Shade?

I sigh again, my shoulders slumping slightly against the cold. One problem at a time, Artemis. First, find them. Then figure out how to explain everything without losing their trust.

And then there’s Shade…

Giving me the silent treatment.

Refusing to explain anything.

The cold wind bites at my face as I clench my fists, frustration boiling just beneath the surface. I can still feel him, faint and distant, like a shadow just out of reach. But it’s like he’s… hiding.

He’s never done that before.

I stumble slightly on the jagged rocks, catching myself against a boulder. My breathing is ragged, not just from the climb but from the thoughts swirling in my head. Shade always has something to say—some snarky comment, some smug observation. But now?

He seemed… almost scared.

“Shade,” I think, the silence around me feeling louder than ever. “What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”

No response.

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “You’re supposed to be this big, mysterious shadow entity, right? So why do you sound as freaked out as me when things go sideways?”

The wind howls in response, carrying nothing but the weight of my own thoughts.

My chest tightens as I trudge forward, forcing myself to keep going despite the exhaustion setting in. Shade scared? That thought unsettles me more than anything else.

If he’s scared, what does that mean for me?

I drag my feet over the icy slope, my chest tightening with every step. The exhaustion isn’t just physical anymore—it’s emotional, mental, everything.

I’m so tired.

Tired of this world. Tired of the lies. Tired of carrying this secret that feels like it’s crushing me. I don’t even know how much longer I can keep it up.

But how do I even explain it?

My boots slip slightly on the uneven ground, and I catch myself against a rock, taking a moment to breathe. I stare at the snow-covered landscape ahead, my mind racing.

I should’ve told him.

The thought hits me like a punch to the gut. I should’ve told Lorien everything when I had the chance. Back in that room—when it was just the two of us, when he was looking at me like I was his whole world—I should’ve just said it.

“Lorien,” I mutter under my breath, my voice breaking slightly. “I should’ve told you…”

But I didn’t. I kept lying. I kept hiding. And now? Now, I don’t even know if I’ll get the chance to tell him.

The wind howls around me, and I pull my arms closer to my chest, trying to ward off the biting cold. How do I even start? ‘Hey, I’ve got a shadow entity living in my head, and oh, by the way, it’s the reason those creatures wanted me dead.’

I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes. He’ll hate me.

But deep down, I know I can’t keep this up forever. They’ll find out sooner or later. And if I keep waiting… it might be too late.

It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, isn’t it?

I keep fearing their reactions, keep fearing they’ll hate me or abandon me if they find out. And the longer I keep it hidden, the worse it’s going to be when it all comes out.

How could I even blame them at this point?

I push forward, my feet slipping on the uneven ice. The cold bites deeper, but the weight in my chest feels heavier than anything else. My heart pounds not from the exertion of climbing down the mountain, but from the ache of what I’ve been holding back.

The lies, the half-truths, the secrets—it’s all piling up. And I know it’s going to collapse. Eventually, I’ll be standing there, exposed, and they’ll be looking at me like they don’t even know who I am.

What happens then?

Would they hate me for lying? Would Lorien walk away, disgusted that I didn’t trust him enough to tell him? Would Hrothgar look at me with disappointment, like a parent scolding a child? Would Kaida feel betrayed, after all her teasing and playful banter?

And Veyron… He wouldn’t let me live it down, beneath his smirks and sarcasm, I can’t shake the thought of him looking at me like I’m some kind of freak.

My hands tremble as I grip the rocky ledge in front of me, steadying myself as I descend another steep patch. What happens if they leave me? What if they decide they’re better off without me?

A tear slips down my cheek, quickly freezing in the biting wind. I shake my head, trying to force the thoughts away.

But they won’t leave me. They never do.

Not my friends. Not Lorien.

Right?

Even with Shade healing me, the exhaustion never really goes away. It’s like this unrelenting weight, dragging me down, eating at me from the inside out.

Like the cold biting at my skin.

Like these thoughts gnawing at my mind, circling endlessly.

I press forward, my legs trembling with every step. The slope is steep, the rocks sharp beneath the thin layer of snow. Every stumble, every slip feels like it could be the last.

“You’re still alive,” I mutter to myself, my voice barely audible over the howling wind. “You’re still here. Just keep going.”

But the exhaustion sinks deeper. It’s not just my body—it’s my soul, my heart, my everything.

The secrets. The lies. The constant fight to survive.

And Shade—silent now, but always there. Healing me, patching up my wounds, but leaving me to fend off everything else on my own.

What happens when I can’t anymore?

I stop for a moment, leaning against a jagged rock to catch my breath. My chest heaves as I stare at the endless stretch of mountain ahead. Is this all I am now? Just someone running, climbing, falling, over and over again?

I press a hand to my chest, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart. “Keep going,” I whisper again. “Just… keep going.”

But I can’t shake the thought. How much longer can I keep this up before the cold, or the exhaustion finally swallow me whole?

The thought slips into my mind before I can stop it.

Maybe I’d be better off giving up.

I pause again, leaning heavily against a jagged boulder. The cold wind howls around me, carrying flakes of snow that sting my skin like needles. My body aches, my chest heaves, and my legs feel like they’re going to collapse under me at any second.

Why am I even still trying?

I glance up at the unrelenting expanse of the mountain, the endless climb down that feels just as daunting as any fight I’ve faced. The others are far ahead. I have no idea what’s waiting at the Nexus. And the lies… the lies feel like they’re rotting me from the inside.

Would it really be so bad if I stopped? If I let the mountain win?

“Don’t,” Shade’s voice cuts through my mind, faint but firm.

I flinch, surprised by his sudden return. “What does it matter?” I snap back in my thoughts. “I’m tired, Shade. I can’t keep doing this. They’ll find out about you. About everything. And when they do, they’ll leave. I’ll be alone anyway.”

“You’re wrong,” he says, but his voice seems off. “You’re not alone.”

“Feels like it,” I think bitterly, staring at the snow-covered ground.

“You think giving up will make it easier?” Shade continues, his tone sharp. “You’ve fought this far, survived more than most ever could. And you’re still here. That’s not nothing.”

“Why?” I ask, tears freezing on my cheeks. “Why am I still here, Shade? What am I even fighting for anymore?”

He’s silent for a moment.

“For them,” he says finally. “For the people who would fight for you. The people you’ve been protecting this whole time. Don’t let go of that now.”

His words settle into the silence, and for a moment, I just stand there, staring at the endless mountain. My legs ache. My heart aches. But I push myself upright again, stumbling forward.

He’s right. I can’t give up. Not yet. Not when they’re waiting for me.

“Just… keep… moving,” I whisper to myself, each word punctuated by a shaky breath.

The wind roars around me, tugging at my hair, biting into my skin, but I force my legs to keep going. One step after another.

The terrain is unforgiving—jagged rocks hidden beneath patches of ice, snowdrifts that threaten to swallow my boots, and steep slopes that make every step a gamble. My body aches, my muscles scream, but I don’t stop.

“Keep moving,” Shade says softly, almost like a reminder. His voice feels distant but steady, like an anchor in the chaos.

“I’m trying,” I mutter under my breath, clutching at the wall of rock beside me as I climb over another icy ridge. My fingers are numb, my shoulders burn from the effort of pulling myself up, but I don’t let myself stop.

The wind shifts, carrying the faintest sound of something—a voice? I freeze for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Did you hear that?” I whisper in my mind.

Shade doesn’t answer, but I can feel him still.

Another faint sound. It’s hard to make out over the howling wind, but it’s there.

“Is it them?” I think desperately. “The others?”

I stumble forward, my steps quickening despite the exhaustion threatening to drag me down. The faint sound grows louder, clearer—it’s a voice, calling out.

They’re close.

“Just—keep—moving,” I tell myself again, gritting my teeth against the cold and the pain. “I’m almost there.”

I don’t even bother trying to sense them anymore. It’s like the exhaustion has seeped into every part of me, numbing my body and clouding my thoughts.

The sound of their voices—faint, almost like an echo—lingers in my ears, but I can’t tell if it’s real or just my mind playing tricks on me. Everything feels foggy, like I’m moving through a dream I can’t wake up from.

My legs feel like lead, each step heavier than the last. My breath comes in shallow gasps, the cold air burning my throat, but I can’t stop.

“Just… keep going,” I mutter weakly, my voice barely audible over the wind.

The rocks beneath my boots shift slightly, and I stumble, catching myself against a jagged ledge. My hands are numb, and the sharp edges dig into my skin, but I barely feel it.

I’m so tired.

The thought loops in my mind, over and over again, drowning out everything else. Tired of running. Tired of fighting. Tired of everything.

The fog in my mind grows thicker, and for a moment, I feel like I’m walking in circles, like I’ve been climbing this mountain forever and I’ll never get off of it.

“Artemis,” Shade’s voice breaks through the haze, low and steady.

“What?” I snap weakly, my frustration bubbling to the surface.

“Focus,” he says, his tone firm. “You’re close. Don’t lose yourself now.”

“I… I can’t,” I mutter, my voice breaking.

“You can,” he says simply. “You’ve come this far. Just a little further.”

I swallow hard, forcing myself to take another shaky step forward. Just a little further. Just one step at a time.

I feel my foot slip on the ice, and before I can even react, I’m on my back, the cold seeping into my body instantly. My head spins from the impact, and for a second, I just lay there, staring up at the swirling gray sky above me.

The exhaustion threatens to pull me under, whispering that I could just… stay here. Let the cold take over.

But then Shade’s voice cuts through the fog, sharp and demanding. “Get up, Artemis.”

“I…” I try to speak, but my words come out as a weak whisper. My entire body feels heavy, my arms trembling as I press my hands to the icy ground.

“Get. Up.” Shade’s voice is relentless, a low growl in my mind. “You can’t stop now. Not here.”

I grit my teeth and force myself to sit up, my breath coming in shaky gasps. The wind howls around me, the cold biting at my exposed skin, but I press my palms into the snow and push myself to my knees.

“Have to get up,” I mutter to myself, my voice barely audible over the roaring wind. “Can’t stop. Not now.”

My legs wobble as I force myself upright, my body screaming in protest. The pain, the cold, the sheer weight of exhaustion—it all presses down on me, but I take a step forward.

And then another.

“Good,” Shade says quietly, his tone softer now but still firm. “Keep going. One step at a time.”

I nod weakly, swallowing down the lump in my throat as I stagger forward. My vision blurs for a moment, but I blink it away, focusing on the path ahead. I can’t stop. I can’t let this beat me.

One step.

Then another.

If I stay here, I’ll freeze.

I close my eyes, my heart pounding in my chest. What do I do?

My head feels foggy, my thoughts sluggish and jumbled. The cold has seeped into every inch of me, numbing my body and slowing my mind. I can barely think at this point.Just keep moving.

I focus on the sound—faint, carried by the wind. Voices. Familiar voices.

It has to be them… right?

“Kaida?” I call out, my voice cracking. “Lorien? Hrothgar?!”

The wind whips around me, almost drowning out the sound of my own voice, but the faint echoes of their voices remain.

“It’s them,” I mutter to myself, clutching at the jagged wall of the mountain for support as I climb down another icy slope. “It has to be them.”

The cold bites at my cheeks, and my body screams at me to stop, but I press on, the sound of their voices growing clearer with every step.

“Focus,” Shade murmurs in the back of my mind, his voice calm but firm. “Keep your mind on them. Don’t let anything else in.”

I nod faintly, swallowing the lump in my throat as I push forward. Just keep going. One step at a time. One step closer to them.

The voices grow louder now, and my heart skips a beat as I recognize them.

“Lorien!” I shout, my voice trembling.

This time, I hear it—a faint but clear response. “Artemis?!”

Relief washes over me, and I stumble forward, tears stinging my eyes as I push past the pain and exhaustion. “I’m here! I’m coming!”

The wind howls around me, but their voices guide me like a beacon in the storm. Just a little further. Just a little more.

I focus on the voice, letting it pull me forward. My legs feel like they’re going to give out, but I push through, the faint flicker of a light ahead fueling my hope.

A fire.

I move closer, stumbling with every step. The warmth of the flames becomes more real with each agonizing inch. I found them… I did it. I finally found them.

Just before reaching it, my legs give out and I collapse to the ground, snow sticking to my palms as I push myself back up. I force myself forward, crawling if I have to.

But as I get closer, I freeze.

It’s not them.

The fire crackles, casting an eerie glow over the scene, and sitting there, casually warming himself, is a man. His black horse stands nearby, the creature’s eyes fixed on the fire.

The man is shirtless, a bandage wrapped around his chest. For a moment, I don’t process what I’m seeing. I just stare, my heart pounding.

Then I see it.

The helmet.

Sitting right next to him, unmistakable.

It’s the knight.

I clamp a hand over my mouth, my breathing shallow as I crouch behind a jagged rock, trying to stay hidden. My body trembles, and I have to fight the urge to run. No, no, no… how is it him?

The knight doesn’t notice me, his head turned slightly toward the fire as if lost in thought.

I heard them. I know I heard them. It wasn’t him—it couldn’t have been.

I close my eyes, trying to calm the panic rising in my chest. “Shade,” I think desperately, “is this real? Did I actually hear the others, or am I losing it?”

No reply.

My heart sinks further, and I bite back a curse. I try to reach out, to feel for the others.

They’re still far. Too far for me to have heard them.

My breath catches in my throat. Am I going crazy?

Was Shade even talking to me again? Or was that just my subconscious pushing me to stay alive?

I don’t know anymore.

The silence in my mind is deafening, and I’m too tired to sort it all out. Too tired to keep running, too tired to think. My body aches, my breath feels shallow, and the weight of everything threatens to crush me where I crouch.

If he comes this way, he’ll see me. I know he will.

I glance down at the knight again, my heart hammering in my chest. Somehow, against all odds, I’ve come across another path down the mountain—and found him.

His black horse shifts slightly, its eyes scanning the area. The knight, though, doesn’t seem to be in any hurry. He’s sitting calmly by the fire, his broad shoulders illuminated by the flickering flames. His helmet gleams faintly in the firelight, a stark reminder of who he is and what he’s capable of.

I crouch lower behind the jagged rock, my body pressed tightly to the cold ground. I’m higher than him, I think, glancing at the slope of the hill. Maybe—maybe he won’t look up here. Maybe he won’t find me.

But the fear doesn’t go away. My body feels frozen in place, every instinct screaming at me to move, to run, to do something.

But I can’t. I can’t even move.

All I can do is hope he doesn’t look this way. Hope the darkness hides me well enough. Hope I get another chance to find the others.

I catch sight of his armor and cape sitting neatly to the side, like he’s peeled away the monster for the night, leaving just the man behind. My eyes flick to my bow, the faintest sliver of an idea forming.

Maybe an arrow…

But the thought dies as quickly as it comes. My hands tremble even now, from exhaustion, cold, and fear. Even if I manage to pull back the drawstring, even if I manage to steady my aim… there’s no guarantee I’d hit him.

And if I miss?

My stomach twists at the thought. There’s no recovering from that. He’d find me instantly, and I’d never make it out of here alive.

The faint warmth of the fire drifts up the slope, teasing me, mocking me. My fingers ache, stiff and frozen, my body screaming for even the smallest bit of relief. But that warmth might as well be a thousand miles away.

I press myself closer to the cold, unforgiving ground, the rocks biting into my side. The fire crackles softly below, and the knight sits there, calm and still, as if he hasn’t spent days hunting me and my friends like prey.

I clench my fists, the faint sting of tears threatening to spill. I can’t stay here, but I can’t move. Not yet.

Please don’t look this way…

My hands are bleeding slightly, the cuts stinging as the cold bites into them. The ice and jagged rocks I’ve been clutching for hours have torn at my skin.

Hours. Has it been hours? I don’t even know anymore. The sky’s been the same endless black since I started running. The only way I know it hasn’t been days is because the sun hasn’t risen—not even a faint hint of light.

I glance down at my hands again, the blood dripping onto the snow in tiny crimson droplets. Shade’s not healing them anymore.

Is something wrong with him?

My breath hitches as the thought hits me. Is he just as weak as I am right now? Maybe that’s why he stopped talking. Or maybe… maybe he’s abandoned me.

No.

I can still feel him, faint but constant. That shadowy presence in the back of my mind, always there, even when he’s silent. It feels the same as always.

“Shade?” I think hesitantly, my voice trembling even in my own mind.

Nothing.

I bite my lip, pressing my bleeding hands into the snow as I try to steady myself. If he’s not talking, is it because he can’t? Or because he doesn’t want to?

I glance back down at the knight by the fire, his calm, almost serene demeanor making my stomach churn. The warmth of the fire reaches me faintly, a cruel reminder of how cold and broken I am right now.

Why is everything breaking down now?

I glance down at my hands, trembling and stiff. The blood from the cuts is smeared across my skin, but the cold has numbed me to the sting. They’re almost blue now, the frostbite creeping in with every passing moment.

If I could see my face, I bet it’d match.

My teeth chatter, the cold digging deep into my bones, making it hard to think, hard to focus. Every breath is a cloud of white, and even that feels weaker now, like my body’s struggling to keep up.

I press my hands against the icy ground, trying to keep steady, but the numbness makes it feel like I’m not even touching anything at all.

The fire below flickers, its warmth so close, so out of reach. The knight stirs slightly, leaning forward to toss something into the flames. I can’t tell if it’s wood or… something else, but the flames grow stronger, brighter.

I have to bite down on my lip to keep from crying out, the faint warmth taunting me from just a few feet away.

If I stay here, I’m going to freeze.

But moving feels impossible. My body’s barely listening to me, my limbs heavy, my fingers useless.

I let out a shaky breath, glancing back at the knight. He hasn’t noticed me yet. But if I don’t do something soon, I won’t last long enough for that to matter.

Maybe… maybe I can move a bit closer.

The thought sends a chill through me, but not from the cold. I glance down at the fire again, the faint flicker of warmth tempting me like a lifeline. The knight sits by it, his back turned slightly, his posture relaxed.

If I’m careful, I could…

I swallow hard, forcing the lump in my throat down as I start to inch forward. Slowly. Carefully. My hands press against the icy ground, my knees digging into the snow as I crawl forward as quietly as I can.

The snow crunches faintly beneath me, and I freeze for a moment, my heart racing as I glance at the knight. He doesn’t move, his gaze fixed on the fire. His horse shifts slightly, its dark coat blending almost seamlessly with the night.

Good. Good.

I keep moving, inch by agonizing inch. The faint warmth grows stronger, teasing me, making every moment of this unbearable cold feel even worse. My fingers brush against the jagged rock as I pull myself forward, my body trembling with the effort.

The fire is so close now, I can almost feel it brushing against my skin. But I stop just behind a larger rock, peering over the edge at the knight.

He doesn’t move.

Do I try and get closer?

The fire’s warmth feels so close, like I could reach out and touch it. But the reality of what I’m doing sends a sharp pang of fear through me.

If he sees me, I’m dead. There’s no way around it. Even with the bandage wrapped around his chest, even if he’s still injured, I wouldn’t stand a chance.

I’m too exhausted to fight.

I wouldn’t even be able to run.

My hands tremble as I clutch the cold ground beneath me, my bleeding fingers almost numb now. Every instinct screams at me to move closer—to take the risk for just a moment of warmth, a second to gather myself—but the fear keeps me pinned.

I peer at him again, the firelight casting flickering shadows on his face. He’s calm, unbothered, as though he hasn’t been hunting us for days. His horse stands silently nearby, the soft crunch of snow beneath its hooves as it moves slightly closer to the fire the only sound besides the crackling flames.

I can’t move closer. I can’t.

But the cold… The freezing air wraps around me, suffocating and relentless. My body aches, the exhaustion weighing down on me like lead.

But one thing is clear: if I don’t do something, I’ll freeze to death out here.

I take a shaky breath, pressing my trembling hands into the snow. I have to take the risk.

I inch forward, my movements slow and deliberate. Every crunch of the snow beneath me feels deafening, like it’s giving me away, but I push on. The fire’s warmth grows stronger, brushing against my face like a promise of relief.

My eyes stay locked on the knight. He hasn’t moved, his posture still relaxed as he stares into the flames. The shadows of the fire dance across his face, making him look almost… human.

But I can’t let that fool me. He’s not.

The jagged rock I’ve been hiding behind gives way to open snow, and my breath catches in my throat. No more cover. If he turns now…

I swallow hard, forcing the thought away. Just a little closer.

I move again, my hands scraping against the icy ground as I crawl forward. The fire’s warmth is almost unbearable now, after so long in the freezing cold.

My fingers twitch, desperate to stretch toward it, but I keep myself in control. Not yet. Don’t blow this now.

The fire’s warmth is so close, it’s almost painful after being so frozen. I bite my lip to keep from crying out at the sudden sensation creeping back into my skin.

The knight doesn’t move. He just sits there, his shoulders relaxed, one hand resting on his knee while the other dangles lazily by his side.

I press myself against the snow, barely daring to breathe as I inch forward just a little more. I can feel the fire fully now, its heat wrapping around me like a fragile shield against the cold. My body trembles, the warmth almost too much after being so close to freezing.

But I don’t stop. I move carefully to the edge of the firelight, where the shadows are darkest, and crouch low, hiding behind another jagged rock that barely conceals me.

The knight stirs slightly, tilting his head toward the flames as if lost in thought. My heart pounds so loudly, I’m convinced he can hear it.

I freeze, every muscle in my body locking in place.

Seconds pass. Maybe minutes. He doesn’t move again.

I’m alive. For now.

The heat from the fire is everything I hoped it would be, but I can’t relax. My mind is racing, thinking of every possible way this could go wrong.

The fire crackles softly, and I focus on its sound, grounding myself, trying to calm the storm of fear in my chest. Don’t move. Don’t breathe too loudly. Don’t think about what happens if he sees you.

I feel myself starting to drift off, my body betraying me as the exhaustion takes over. No, no, stay awake, I think desperately, forcing my eyes open, but my lids are so heavy.

The warmth from the fire is too much, pulling me into its embrace like a lullaby, and my thoughts grow slower, hazier.

I glance back at the knight, but… he’s gone.

Gone?

Panic grips me, sharper than the cold ever was. My heart races as I snap my head around, searching the shadows.

And then I see him.

Standing over me.

His massive sword is in his hand, its edge glinting faintly in the firelight.

My breath catches in my throat. This is it. It’s over.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, trembling with fear. “Please don’t.”

He doesn’t respond, just stands there, towering over me like a shadow of death.

My mind races back to the castle, to the orb, to everything I’ve done to survive. To the chance I had to leave this place behind, to go home.

“I should’ve gone back home when I had the chance,” I say aloud, my voice weak and broken. The words hang in the air for a moment, bitter and full of regret.

The knight raises his sword, and my body is too weak, too cold to fight. My vision blurs as the darkness I’ve been fighting all night creeps in, and finally, I can’t hold it back anymore.

I let go.

End of chapter 26