Riven was lost in a deep, heavy sleep, his body finally surrendered to the weight of the day’s march. A first sound drifted through the darkness—a faint, indistinct disturbance—but he didn't react. His mind, anchored by exhaustion, barely registered the intrusion.

  But the sound returned, identical in nature.

  This time, the fog of sleep thinned enough to pull him toward the surface. He wasn't fully alert, but the persistence of the noise forced his eyes to flicker open. With a sluggish effort, he pushed himself up, dragging his back against the vertical surface of the stone finger.

  He rubbed one eye with the back of his hand, trying to clear his blurred vision, just as the sound returned—sharper and unmistakably closer.

  A long, rhythmic hiss parted the vegetation, sweeping the crimson grass in wide, slow arcs. And through that rustling came something else—a series of rapid-fire clicks. It was a sharp metallic sound that vibrated against the base of the hand, like stones striking one another in a frantic pulse.

  Riven leaned over to grab his sword and pulled it back against him, bracing his back against the stone finger. He was about to lean out to check the ground below, but he didn't have the time.

  The clicking had stopped.

  Just inches from the ledge, a towering silhouette blotted out the stars, standing several meters above the ground on spindly, wire-thin limbs.

  The creature’s massive head loomed directly in front of them, a weight of dark, leathery skin suspended in the gloom. It hung there, silent, watching them sleep in the hollow of the hand.

  Riven didn't move—not an inch.

  He even held his breath, terrified that the smallest sound would give them away. His body was petrified by fear and his muscles were locked tight against the stone.

  That was when he saw it.

  The creature’s single eye opened in the darkness, a wide orb of milky white.

  It stared directly at Riven. The sight made his resolve waver—every instinct screamed at him to move, to run, to get away. But he held his ground. He didn't budge an inch, remaining perfectly still as the pale gaze locked onto him.

  The milky eye remained fixed on him for what felt like an eternity.

  Then, as if losing interest or hearing something in the distance, the creature finally pulled back.

  The towering shape began to fade, becoming a blurrier and blurrier specter as it moved away from the edge of the palm. But Riven was still pulled tight, like a bowstring stretched to its breaking point.

  Finally, he let out a long breath of relief and slowly began to ease the tension in his muscles. He loosened his grip on the hilt of his sword—his fingers were cramping from having squeezed the steel so hard.

  He glanced at Lya, who still seemed to be sleeping soundly beside him.

  But as he started to shift back into place, he heard new sounds in the distance.

  The frantic thud of footsteps striking the ground.

  His heart raced, hammering against his chest as he stared into the dark.

  The creature was running straight for them. There was no longer any question of whether it had noticed them or not.

  Panicked, he shoved Lya hard and screamed, "Lya! Run!"

  immediately, she jolted awake.

  It took her only a second to understand, and then the panic hit her when she saw it.

  They scrambled down in a frenzy, leaping from the ledge as soon as they could. The landing sent a jolt of electric pain through Riven’s knees, but there was no time to dwell on it.

  They had barely started to run when the creature slammed into the hand. Its long rows of horns impaled the black stone with brutal force, shattering the entire structure.

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  But behind him, the earth began to shudder under a series of violent, rapid strikes.

  He risked a quick glance over his shoulder.

  Through the swirling dust, he saw only the massive silhouette locking onto him, its long limbs devouring the distance as it charged straight for his back.

  His eyes darted wildly across the horizon, but his mind was blurring into static and terror.

  He just needed something—anything.

  And, as the thunderous impacts neared, so close he could almost feel the creature's breath, he yanked his body to the right in a desperate turn.

  A shape appeared through his panic.

  The corrupted hand.

  As he lunged beneath the structure, blindly focused on its prey, the creature slammed into the black stone once again.

  A heavy, sickening thud echoed as the structure shattered under the impact.

  Stone shards even clawed at Riven's face, but he didn't stop.

  The rising cloud of dust became his shield—a fleeting chance to vanish from the monster’s sight for a few precious seconds.

  Ahead, a jagged tangle of bones and broken stone rose from the dark. He didn't think twice—he just lunged toward the mess of white and grey, desperate to vanish into the clutter.

  Even as he sprinted, a massive impact slammed into the ground just inches behind his heels. The shockwave nearly threw him off balance with a blow that whistled past his ears.

  Riven clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached, but he didn't dare slow down. He was almost there.

  His hand reached out for the first jagged rock, his fingers inches from the concealment.

  But a sudden, brutal jolt killed his momentum.

  A cold, heavy pressure invaded his center like an alien weight snagging his body from the inside.

  His feet kept digging into the dust, pushing with desperate instinct. But his body wouldn't budge. He was pinned.

  his hands falling instinctively to his midsection, his fingers trembling as they closed around the russet-black surface of the bony lance.

  But as he tried to shove it away, he felt the sickening slide of the spine against his internal organs—a cold, grinding friction that made his vision flicker.

  Before he could even gasp, the lance was wrenched backward

  A sharp, wet hollow followed, leaving a sudden void where the warmth of the bone had been. The anchor was gone, and Riven collapsed like a puppet with its strings severed.

  He slammed into the dirt, barely catching himself on all fours. The sudden chill vanished beneath a white-hot agony that surged in time with his racing heart.

  He spat blood into the dust, his breath coming in ragged, shallow hitches.

  Behind him, the air filled with the screech of scales on stone. The beast was thrashing, a violent percussion of splintering debris as it clawed to free itself from the rocks.

  The final, violent crack of splintering rock snapped the tension.

  Driven by the sudden surge of adrenaline, Riven lunged toward the rocks, his legs heavy and unresponsive. Each frantic stride sent a white-hot flare from his gut to his spine, turning his movement into a desperate, lurching scramble.

  He reached the edge of the jagged opening, but the darkness offered no sanctuary.

  Before he could vanish, a massive blur slammed into his side. The heavy, crushing swing launched his broken body forward like a ragdoll.

  Riven soared through the air for a heart-stopping second before his spine collided with the dense, calcified curve of a massive skull.

  Behind him, the creature’s momentum carried it headlong into the debris.

  A volley of cracks erupted as rocks and splintered ribs pierced the beast's underside. It shrieked, its charge halted by the very ruins Riven had used for cover.

  Dazed from the collision, Riven acted on instinct. He dragged his heavy limbs through the dirt, scrambling into the hollow space beneath the massive, overturned skull.

  He collapsed into the shadows, his back pressed against the yielding earth.

  For a second, the world went still. The only sound was the frantic drum of his heart and the wet, rhythmic drip of blood hitting the dry soil. He closed his eyes, the cool darkness of the skull wrapping around him like a shroud. He thought he was safe.

  Then, the light at the entrance was eclipsed. The ceiling of his refuge gave a sharp, sudden creak as a massive weight settled onto the bone above him. For a second, the skull held, shivering under the burden.

  Almost immediately, the beast leaned in. The groan of ancient calcium turned into a steady grind, the ceiling descending inch by inch as the monster drove the structure into the dirt.

  Riven felt the first bite of the pressure. He tried to draw a breath, but his ribcage couldn't expand—every shallow gasp was cut short by the tightening vice above him.

  He was being driven downward. His shoulders pressed into the loose earth, a small mercy that swallowed the worst of the weight as the world continued to shrink. Dust and damp soil filled his nostrils, thick and suffocating.

  His vision began to fray, the darkness bleeding into a heavy, grey haze.

  Above him, the beast’s screeching became a dull thrum, distant as if heard through deep water.

  Then, through the muffled roar of his own pulse, a sharp, familiar shout cut through the chaos.

  He tried to hold onto the sound, but the world finally flickered and went out.