The execution lingered in Vale’s mind long after the crowd dispersed.

  Fear worked.

  It always did.

  District Seven fell unnaturally quiet after soldiers dragged the accused saboteurs away. Refugees avoided eye contact, conversations hushed, and even children seemed to sense something had changed.

  Trust had snapped.

  Now everyone wondered who among them might open the gates next.

  Vale sat on the warehouse rooftop again, watching soldiers patrol streets below with harsher discipline. Arrests followed through the night. Anyone suspicious. Anyone unlucky.

  Authority without restraint.

  Lyn climbed up beside him, arms folded tightly.

  “I hate this,” she muttered.

  Vale didn’t look away from the street.

  “Good.”

  She blinked.

  “What?”

  “You should hate it.”

  Silence lingered.

  Then she said quietly:

  “They killed them without proof.”

  Vale nodded.

  “Probably.”

  Her eyes hardened.

  “And you’re just okay with that?”

  He finally turned.

  “No.”

  “Then why didn’t you stop it?”

  He held her gaze calmly.

  “Because sometimes stopping something makes it worse.”

  She scoffed.

  “That’s a coward’s excuse.”

  Maybe.

  But experience taught him one thing:

  Interfering blindly caused collateral damage.

  He’d learned that lesson the hard way.

  More than once.

  Before Lyn could argue further, horns echoed faintly across the city again.

  Not alarm.

  Signal.

  Rotation change.

  Wall patrol shifts.

  Vale turned back toward horizon.

  Something still moved beyond walls.

  Pressure hadn’t eased.

  It had grown.

  Footsteps climbed the stairwell again.

  Both of them tensed automatically.

  But this time—

  Marrow emerged, breathing harder than usual.

  The elder rarely climbed rooftops.

  Vale frowned.

  “What happened?”

  Marrow looked shaken.

  “Hunting party didn’t return.”

  Vale’s eyes narrowed.

  “Outside walls?”

  Marrow nodded.

  “They went out after dawn. For meat. Haven’t come back.”

  Lyn frowned.

  “Hunters go missing all the time.”

  Marrow shook his head.

  “Not like this.”

  Vale stood.

  “What do you mean?”

  Marrow hesitated.

  “Bodies were found.”

  Silence stretched.

  Vale asked quietly:

  “How many?”

  “Three.”

  “And the others?”

  “Gone.”

  Vale felt unease tighten.

  “Show me.”

  They moved through increasingly tense streets toward the eastern gate district.

  Soldiers blocked civilians from approaching outer wall exits, but Marrow led them through side alleys toward a gathering crowd near a supply checkpoint.

  Whispers spread as Vale passed.

  Recognition again.

  Protector.

  Authority bearer.

  Hope.

  Expectation.

  Dangerous things.

  Two soldiers guarded bodies laid beneath cloth sheets.

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  Marrow spoke quietly with one guard before motioning Vale over.

  Vale knelt.

  Pulled back cloth.

  And frowned.

  The hunter’s body looked wrong.

  No bite marks.

  No torn flesh.

  No feeding wounds.

  Just deep punctures across chest and throat.

  Clean.

  Precise.

  Like something pierced vital points deliberately.

  Vale checked the second corpse.

  Same wounds.

  Third.

  Same.

  Lyn crouched beside him.

  “…That’s not monsters.”

  “No.”

  Predators didn’t kill cleanly.

  They tore.

  Fed.

  These men were killed.

  Not hunted.

  Vale stood slowly.

  Soldiers nearby exchanged uneasy looks.

  One guard muttered:

  “Maybe rival hunters?”

  Vale shook his head.

  “Hunters don’t leave meat behind.”

  Silence followed.

  Marrow spoke quietly.

  “Tracks?”

  Vale looked at soldiers.

  “Did anyone check?”

  They glanced awkwardly at each other.

  “No one wants to go outside walls,” one admitted.

  Fair.

  Vale sighed.

  “I’ll check.”

  Lyn immediately shook her head.

  “No.”

  Vale ignored her.

  Marrow frowned.

  “You think something intelligent is out there?”

  Vale answered quietly.

  “I think something’s inside.”

  Silence followed.

  Even soldiers stiffened.

  Because monsters outside walls were normal.

  Killers inside walls weren’t.

  Lyn grabbed his arm.

  “You’re not going out alone.”

  He met her gaze.

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  She glared.

  “You die, I’m stuck here.”

  He almost smiled.

  Marrow sighed.

  “I’ll gather hunters.”

  Vale shook his head.

  “Too slow. And if something’s watching gates, group movement warns them.”

  Silence stretched.

  Finally Lyn crossed her arms stubbornly.

  “Then I’m coming.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  Vale exhaled.

  Arguing wasted time.

  “Stay behind me.”

  She smirked.

  “Always do.”

  The eastern gate opened briefly under guard escort.

  Soldiers eyed Vale nervously as he passed through.

  One muttered quietly:

  “Come back alive.”

  Outside the walls—

  The world felt wrong.

  Quiet.

  No birds.

  No insects.

  No distant howls.

  Just wind brushing tall grass.

  Vale knelt near ground outside gate.

  Tracks marked dirt.

  Boot prints.

  Dragged bodies.

  And—

  Other marks.

  Not paws.

  Not claws.

  Barefoot.

  Human.

  He followed trail carefully.

  Lyn whispered behind him.

  “Someone killed them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Vale answered quietly.

  “Food. Supplies. Or fear.”

  Trail led toward tree line.

  Bodies had been dragged only briefly before being abandoned.

  Why?

  Vale scanned surroundings.

  Then saw it.

  Movement.

  Farther ahead.

  Something watching.

  He stood slowly.

  Lyn tensed.

  “What?”

  Vale’s voice lowered.

  “We’re not alone.”

  Silence stretched.

  Then figure emerged from trees.

  Human.

  Thin.

  Filthy.

  Eyes wild.

  A refugee.

  More shapes followed behind him.

  Men.

  Women.

  Starving.

  Armed with scavenged weapons.

  Not monsters.

  Desperate people.

  Lyn whispered:

  “…They’re refugees.”

  Vale nodded slowly.

  Raiders.

  Driven outside walls.

  Hunting caravans.

  Hunting hunters.

  One stepped forward, voice hoarse.

  “Food.”

  Not request.

  Demand.

  Vale understood instantly.

  City pushed people out.

  Now they hunted survivors.

  Predators born from desperation.

  The man raised a spear shakily.

  “Leave supplies.”

  Vale studied them.

  Hungry.

  Terrified.

  Cornered animals.

  But still dangerous.

  He spoke calmly.

  “We don’t have supplies.”

  Man sneered.

  “Then we take yours.”

  Vale sighed.

  Behind him, Lyn whispered:

  “This is bad.”

  Yes.

  It was.

  Because monsters were simple.

  Humans weren’t.

  And somewhere beyond trees

  Something else moved.

  Watching this encounter carefully.

  Learning how prey fought each other.

  And waiting to strike when they finished.

  The starving refugees fanned out slowly.

  Not trained.

  Not coordinated.

  But desperate.

  And desperation made people unpredictable.

  Vale counted quickly.

  Twelve.

  Maybe more hidden in trees.

  Men and women both. Clothes torn, faces gaunt, weapons scavenged from farms and caravans.

  A spear here.

  An axe there.

  Kitchen knives tied to sticks.

  People who’d been pushed beyond survival.

  The man in front tightened his grip on the spear.

  “Leave weapons,” he rasped. “Then go.”

  Behind Vale, Lyn whispered:

  “They’re going to kill us.”

  Vale answered quietly.

  “Only if they think they have to.”

  He stepped forward slowly, hands visible.

  The refugees flinched.

  Predators expecting prey.

  Not calm.

  Vale spoke evenly.

  “You kill hunters near the gate?”

  Silence.

  Then one woman spat.

  “They deserved it.”

  Another voice followed:

  “They took food meant for us.”

  “They wouldn’t let us inside!”

  “They left us to die!”

  Anger rose quickly.

  Group rage.

  Shared justification.

  Vale nodded slowly.

  Understanding.

  Not agreement.

  “You were refugees.”

  The spear wielder sneered.

  “Still are.”

  His eyes burned with resentment.

  “They saved their own people. Left us outside.”

  Lyn’s voice softened slightly.

  “…They closed the gates.”

  The man barked a humorless laugh.

  “City chooses who lives.”

  He gestured toward trees behind him.

  “Rest of us learn to take.”

  Vale scanned the group.

  Half-starved.

  Exhausted.

  Terrified.

  Dangerous.

  He answered calmly.

  “You attack hunters, soldiers come.”

  “They already do.”

  “They’ll kill you.”

  “They already try.”

  Silence stretched.

  The man raised the spear slightly.

  “So now we kill first.”

  Vale exhaled slowly.

  Same story everywhere.

  Collapse turned neighbors into enemies.

  He spoke again.

  “Let us leave.”

  The man shook his head.

  “You have weapons.”

  Vale nodded.

  “Yes.”

  “So we take them.”

  Behind Vale, Lyn shifted nervously.

  This was tipping.

  Vale felt Protector Authority stir faintly.

  Not against monsters.

  Against inevitability.

  He hated this.

  Because these weren’t villains.

  They were what happened when systems failed.

  But hesitation killed.

  He stepped forward again.

  Pressure rolled outward subtly.

  Not attack.

  Presence.

  Refugees froze.

  Instinct screamed.

  Predator.

  The spear wielder’s confidence faltered.

  Vale’s voice dropped.

  “You don’t want this fight.”

  Silence.

  Wind shifted through grass.

  Tension coiled.

  Then—

  A scream cut through forest.

  Everyone froze.

  Vale turned instantly toward sound.

  Not human.

  Animal.

  Then another.

  Then many.

  Howls erupted across tree line.

  Closer than expected.

  Predators.

  Real ones.

  Refugees panicked instantly.

  “Run!”

  “Monsters!”

  “Back!”

  Shapes burst through trees.

  Lean wolf-creatures.

  But different from before.

  Larger.

  Scarred.

  Eyes sharper.

  Coordinated.

  They didn’t charge blindly.

  They flanked.

  Encircled.

  Vale’s stomach dropped.

  Not coincidence.

  They waited.

  Watched humans confront each other.

  Attacked at weakness.

  Someone was guiding them.

  The first beast lunged.

  Straight into refugee line.

  Chaos exploded.

  Screams.

  Blood.

  People scattered.

  Vale moved instantly.

  Intercepted creature mid-leap.

  Slammed it into ground hard enough to crack bone.

  But more came.

  Too many.

  Lyn shouted:

  “Back to the gate!”

  Refugees ran blindly.

  Predators chased fleeing targets.

  Perfect hunting response.

  Divide prey.

  Pick off slow.

  Vale cursed.

  If raiders died here, monsters learned walls were weak.

  They’d push harder next time.

  Protector Authority surged.

  Decision made.

  He roared:

  “TO THE WALLS!”

  Authority pressure rolled outward.

  Predators faltered.

  Confusion flickered in their movements.

  Vale grabbed nearest refugee.

  “Run!”

  The man stumbled toward gates.

  Others followed.

  Predators regrouped quickly.

  Smarter than before.

  One beast lunged for Lyn.

  Vale smashed into it, both crashing through brush.

  Claws raked his shoulder.

  Pain flared.

  He crushed creature’s skull.

  But more circled.

  They weren’t attacking recklessly.

  They were herding.

  Toward walls.

  Toward panic.

  Vale realized too late—

  This was another test.

  Monsters driving prey into gates.

  Testing response.

  Testing timing.

  He sprinted toward walls.

  Lyn dragged injured refugee beside her.

  Behind them—

  Howls grew louder.

  Vale risked glance back.

  Shapes moved through trees.

  Dozens.

  Watching.

  Not attacking yet.

  Observing.

  Learning.

  They reached gates.

  Guards shouted.

  “What happened?”

  “Open!”

  Gate cracked open just enough.

  People poured inside.

  Soldiers dragged them through.

  Arrows fired behind.

  Predators halted outside range.

  Watching.

  Vale turned as gate slammed shut.

  Silence fell inside walls.

  Panting refugees collapsed.

  Soldiers stared in shock.

  Officer demanded:

  “What were civilians doing outside?”

  No one answered.

  Because truth was simple.

  They’d been abandoned.

  And survived however they could.

  Vale leaned against stone, breathing hard.

  Lyn stared at him.

  “They waited.”

  “Yes.”

  “They used us.”

  “Yes.”

  Silence stretched.

  Above walls, soldiers reported movement.

  Predators withdrawing.

  Satisfied.

  Test complete.

  Vale felt it again.

  That distant presence.

  Satisfied curiosity.

  And it understood now—

  Humans fought each other.

  And gates opened when panic hit.

  Prey revealed its weakness.

  Lyn whispered:

  “This is bad.”

  Vale nodded slowly.

  “Yes.”

  Because next time—

  The monsters wouldn’t just test.

  They’d break through.

  And somewhere deep in the forest—

  Something vast shifted.

  Plans forming.

  The hunt entering its next stage.

  And Vale finally understood—

  The city wasn’t under attack.

  It was being studied.