Arvey’s head tilted up for a fraction, and his body reacted before his mind could catch up. He grabbed Kozlo by the scruff of his feathers and yanked them both behind a thick trunk. His palm covered Kozlo’s beak. Two fingers rose in the danger signal.

  Kozlo’s eyes stayed bright, and his wings trembled under Arvey’s forearm. Arvey froze. “Oh shit..."

  Kozlo blinked once under Arvey’s hand, then stared up with a grin that stayed stubborn. His wings trembled like he wanted to open them wide, and his talons flexed against Arvey’s forearm as if he searched for a launch.

  Arvey held still and listened. A soft rush moved through the air above. The movement carried no footfalls, and it held a steady rhythm that made Arvey’s skin tighten.

  A massive, black-scaled fish floated through the air, its long, sinuous body moving in slow, deliberate motions, as if swimming through an invisible current. Its eyes, pale and glassy, flickered faintly in the dim twilight.

  The fish drifted closer, its long fins fanning out, dark tendrils swaying with each movement. It was massive, bigger than any creature he’d seen, easily the length of five men. He swallowed hard, keeping his head low.

  Arvey kept his breath shallow and watched it pass the trunk. He felt his pulse rise, then forced it down. His fingers stayed locked over Kozlo’s beak, and he kept the two-finger signal.

  Kozlo wriggled once, then looked up at Arvey with a tilt of his head. “Why?” he whispered into Arvey’s palm, voice muffled.

  Arvey leaned close and spoke into the feathers at Kozlo’s head. “Quiet,” he said, and his jaw tightened. He swallowed once and shifted into an attack stance. He let one arm loosen for a moment so his hands stayed ready.. Then Kozlo slipped free.

  The owl dropped to the ground, landed on soft soil, and waddled into the open with a proud sway. His wings spread a fraction as if he wanted the fish to see him. Arvey’s pulse jumped and his hand shot out.

  “Kozlo,” Arvey hissed, and he reached to grab him again. Kozlo kept walking, head high, feet tapping roots like a march.

  Kozlo passed under the fish’s shadow. The fish drifted on, eyes half-lidded, fins moving in the same slow rhythm. It gave Kozlo a single glance, then continued its line through the trees.

  Arvey blinked. The massive creature barely acknowledged Kozlo’s presence, continuing its slow, unbothered drift through the trees.

  “What…” Arvey’s mind raced. Hadn’t it noticed Kozlo? Was it blind? Was it just uninterested? His instincts screamed that everything in the Abyss should be hostile, that predators lurked in every shadow, but this thing…

  A sudden movement snapped his attention away from the fish.

  From the underbrush, a group of small, hunched figures darted forward.

  Eight small figures slid out of the low brush with knees bent and backs hunched. Their skin was black and smeared with dirt, and their limbs were wiry and fast. Crude weapons hung in their hands: jagged spears, chipped daggers, and nets woven from sinewy fiber.

  Arvey moved one step behind the trunk, barely having time to register their presence before the first net was thrown.

  Kozlo stood in the open and watched them with interest. He flared his wings once, then folded them tight, like he copied Arvey’s earlier order out of habit.

  The fish let out a deep, guttural hum as the net wrapped around its sleek body. It thrashed, its long fins whipping through the air as it struggled. The net tightened as a second goblin pulled hard on the line.

  The fish let out a deep, guttural hum as the net wrapped around its sleek body. It thrashed, its long fins whipping through the air as it struggled. Another goblin lunged, stabbing upward with a sharpened bone spear. The weapon barely pierced the scales, but the fish recoiled, twisting in a slow arc as the rest of the goblins closed in.

  The fight was swift and brutal.

  The fish lashed out, slamming one goblin against a tree with enough force to snap its spine. Another goblin holding a dagger was impaled as the creature jerked wildly, its barbed tail skewering the small hunter mid-motion.

  But the goblins didn’t retreat.

  They shrieked, working together with practiced efficiency. Another net was thrown, tightening around the fish’s body. Spears jabbed, aiming for its gills, its eyes. One goblin climbed onto its back, hacking furiously at its spine with a jagged knife.

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  The fish let out one last shuddering cry before going limp.

  The remaining goblins let out victorious snarls, baring their sharp teeth as they began to cut into their kill. The bodies of their fallen comrades were ignored, left where they had fallen.

  Arvey stayed low watching carefully.

  “The tribe will eat well tonight,” one goblin said in a rough voice. It tore a strip of meat free and slapped it into a sack.

  “Our Chief will pay us,” another said, and it looked around with a sharp grin. “Good hunt.”

  “The other tribes will envy,” a third muttered, jerking its chin at the dead fish.

  Arvey narrowed his eyes. A tribe. A chief. These goblins weren’t just wandering scavengers, they belonged to something bigger. A settlement. Maybe even a society.

  Information.

  That was what he needed most. He didn’t know how the Abyss worked, didn’t know its rules, its dangers. If there is a tribe, then maybe there were more informations.

  But he needed a weapon.

  His gaze flicked to one of the fallen goblins. The creature's twisted body was sprawled against the base of a gnarled tree, its spine snapped where it had hit the bark. One arm lay limp at an unnatural angle, fingers still curled as if reaching for a weapon that was no longer there. Dark, viscous blood pooled beneath its broken form, soaking into the damp earth. Its vacant eyes stared upward, unseeing, its sharp teeth still bared in a snarl frozen in death. A crude dagger lay just beside its outstretched fingers, its jagged edge still stained with blood.

  Arvey shifted his weight and tested the ground with one toe. The goblins kept cutting, heads down, voices busy. Kozlo stood off to the side and watched the butchering with bright interest.

  Arvey crept forward in measured steps. He kept his shoulders level and his knees soft so his feet placed quiet. His breathing stayed slow, and his eyes stayed on the goblins’ hands, counting spears and watching for a head turn.

  He reached the dead goblin and lowered into a crouch. His fingers stretched toward the dagger, inching closer—

  A twig snapped beneath his foot.

  The goblins froze. Glowing yellow eyes turned toward him.

  Arvey’s stomach dropped. "Oh, great. That was smooth," he muttered under his breath, cursing his luck.

  “Who?” one hissed.

  “Intruder,” another said, spear lifting.

  Arvey’s fingers curled around the dagger’s hilt. "Fantastic. Just what I needed.. an angry pack of goblins," he muttered, tightening his grip.

  The goblins bared their teeth.

  Kozlo chirped once like he enjoyed the tension. He spread his wings and grinned at the goblins, then looked back at Arvey as if he waited for a signal.

  For a split second, an eerie silence settled between them. Then one of the creatures let out a shrill, guttural screech.

  Arvey reacted instantly. He pivoted on his heel and bolted toward Kozlo. His heart pounded as his bare feet pounded against the damp earth. The tiny owl let out a startled chirp as Arvey scooped him up with one arm and sprinted for the trees.

  A chorus of shrieks erupted behind him, the goblins giving chase.

  The first spear came fast. Arvey barely ducked in time, the rusted tip slicing a shallow cut across his shoulder as it whizzed past. It struck a tree with a heavy thunk. Another followed, this one stabbing into the mud just inches from his foot.

  "Shit..!"

  His lungs burned as he tore through the undergrowth, weaving between the gnarled trees. The forest was thick, the roots twisted and damp, making every step treacherous. The goblins, however, moved effortlessly. Their clawed feet dug into the soil, propelling them forward with frightening speed.

  Kozlo flailed against Arvey’s chest, his small wings batting against his arm in protest.

  “KOZLO FIGHT, KOZLO STRONG!”

  “Not now, Kozlo!” Arvey gritted his teeth, twisting just as another spear shot past, kicking up dirt as it embedded itself in the ground.

  The goblins were closing in.

  One of them lunged, moving faster than the others. Arvey sensed it in his periphery, the flick of movement, the sharp intake of breath as it prepared to strike.

  Not this time.

  Arvey skidded to a halt and spun. The goblin was mid-leap, spear raised high. Arvey dropped low, letting the creature’s momentum carry it forward. At the last second, he surged upward, ramming his shoulder into its chest. The impact sent the goblin sprawling, its weapon tumbling from its grasp.

  No time to think. Another was already upon him.

  Arvey twisted his grip on the dagger and slashed. The goblin ducked, the blade slicing through the air just above its head. It snarled and lashed out with its claws. Arvey barely leaned back in time, the jagged nails grazing his cheek.

  He countered, driving his knee into the creature’s gut. It doubled over with a choked gasp. Arvey seized his chance. He kicked the goblin in the back of its head and smashed its face against the nearest tree trunk with his free hand. Bone cracked. The creature let out a wet gurgle before slumping to the ground, unmoving.

  Another spear came from the side. Arvey turned just in time, raising his dagger to deflect. The crude weapon knocked the spear off course, but the force of the impact sent him stumbling back.

  The remaining goblins snarled. They hesitated for a moment, their eyes flicking toward their fallen companion. Then, fury overtook them.

  They charged.

  "Come on ugly little freaks!" Arvey grumbled before turning and running.

  His legs burned, his breathing ragged. The trees blurred past him, his senses focused solely on survival. The goblins were relentless, their snarls growing louder. He wasn’t going to outrun them forever.

  Then.. The snarls behind him cut off mid-chase, swallowed by an unnatural stillness. The only sound left was his own ragged breathing.

  The forest fell quiet.

  Arvey slowed at once and held his breath. His instincts screamed at him, his skin prickling along his arms. Something was wrong. Kozlo’s wings trembled, and the owl stayed bright-eyed, waiting for something.

  The goblins stopped, too. Their growls faltered, replaced by uneasy murmurs. They weren’t chasing him anymore.

  A deep snarl rolled through the trees, low enough to vibrate the ground. Arvey’s grip closed around the dagger, and he felt the weight of the sound in his chest.

  Arvey’s stomach dropped. "That can't be good..."

  The fog thickened, curling around Arvey as a monstrous figure emerged fully from the mist. The weight of its presence alone was suffocating, as if the air itself recoiled from it. Its hulking form loomed over the battlefield, standing nearly three meters tall, its flesh a shifting mass of deep black, as if molded from the Abyss itself. Every step it took sent vibrations through the damp earth, the ground groaning under its sheer weight.

  Arvey exhaled sharply. "Oh shit, definitely not good."