We set out on our pace again, this time with stealth in mind. The wind had settled into a low, steady hush as I moved. The only sounds were my footsteps and the occasional soft flicker of Vesper’s glow behind me. The longer I followed the trail, the more I started to notice subtle changes in the terrain. Disruptions. Uneven patches of snow. Something must have happened ahead.

  After about 45 minutes of following these odd bits in the snow, I saw something in the middle of the valley.

  A lump in the snow, not shaped by the wind. Twisted metal glinted beneath a thin layer of frost. It was scorched, blackened, and half-buried.

  "There," Vesper said, voice low. "Something’s here."

  I nodded and we approached slowly, my boots crunching the snow with every step. My fingers tightened around the handle of my ice pick.

  The closer we got, the clearer the scene became. The wreckage was the mangled husk of a vehicle; it was small, transport-sized. Not a supply hauler, but something fast, built for traversal. Whatever happened to it, it hadn’t just crashed.

  The metal was twisted outward from the inside. Panels bent and torn like something had detonated within. The cab was split, one side of it peeled back like the skin of a fruit. The surrounding snow was blackened with heat but oddly undisturbed otherwise.

  I crouched low near the flame-scarred snow. “No bodies. No blood.” I said it aloud.

  Vesper hovered beside me. "And no signs of a struggle. No third-party tracks, no drag marks. No blood trail, no shell casings. Just footsteps... heading away."

  I stood and looked back toward the way we came. “How many tents do you think were at the campsite?”

  He paused. "Four flat spaces near the fire. Could be four people, assuming they didn't share tents."

  As I circled the wreck, something caught my eye. There was a mess of footsteps leading away from the blast. The snow around the vehicle was otherwise undisturbed, pristine but for that trail. It wasn't a frantic escape. No signs of dragging or injury. Just a clean, deliberate path.

  They just walked away.

  "Okay, so no signs of a fight," I repeated, scanning the snow again. "They didn’t run. Whoever it was, they walked away calmly."

  We returned our attention to the vehicle. I approached it slowly this time, letting my fingers graze the ruined metal. It was cold to the touch. The heat from the blast had long since faded. I peeked inside the cockpit. It had a blackened interior, and wires were exposed and fried. There were no signs of external impact, and there were no bullet holes.

  "Blew from the inside," I muttered. "Not a mine. Not a missile. Something... internal."

  "Agreed," Vesper said. "And no remains. No ash. No fragments."

  "You think they detonated something? Some kind of trap?" I asked.

  Vesper hesitated. "Maybe. But more likely... they had a Solis-aligned Revenant."

  I raised a brow.

  "A strong one," he added. "If they were trained enough, they could have shaped an explosion to engulf the inside and leave nothing behind. Burn everything clean. That would explain the lack of remains."

  I glanced back at the trail of footprints leading away. Still neat. Still consistent. Whoever survived this wasn’t injured. They didn’t flee. They just... moved on.

  "So, a clean camp, an intact fire, no signs of a fight, and a vehicle that got turned inside out by one of their own."

  "Yes," Vesper murmured. "And they're still ahead of us."

  I tightened the straps on my pack, turning my gaze to the dark horizon. "Then we keep going."

  The snow swallowed our footsteps as we left the wreck behind, heading deeper into whatever mystery waited beyond.

  We followed the tracks in silence.

  The longer we walked, the more everything started mixing; the hills, dunes, and ridges of ice and snow all melted together in one white landscape. The only thing to break the monotony was the walkway that was carved in the snow that I was following.

  I kept low, moving carefully. Every few minutes, I’d crouch behind a drift or a jag of ice, scanning the horizon. Nothing moved. No wind. No shadows. Just the echo of our own presence, soft and swallowed by snow.

  I was going to be more stealthy this time.

  Vesper stayed close behind me, his glow muted, tucked low to the ground like he didn’t want to be seen either. Smart.

  We kept that pace for hours. My legs ached. My breath started coming in slow, measured huffs. The cold didn’t bite the way it used to. It gnawed now, deeper and patient, like it knew I’d last long enough to feel it properly.

  Once I looked up I noticed the environment starting to shift.

  At first, it was subtle. A grate half-buried in snow. Then a wall. Real, manufactured, ribbed with frost but unmistakably man-made.

  The footsteps led straight to the door.

  It rose from the snow like a buried monument, wide and industrial, half-sunken into the slope of an icy ridge. Frost glazed its surface, but unlike the ruins I’d seen before, this wasn’t sealed by time. No cracks. No rust. The snow around it had been swept clean, and the footprints stopped neatly at its base.

  I stepped up to it and pulled the handle.

  Surprising nobody. It didn't budge.

  “Try the keypad there,” Vesper said, floating near a numpad on the right of the handle.

  I reached out and pressed the green button on the numpad.

  It turned red and beeped.

  “Any ideas for a passcode?” I asked Vesper.

  “Maybe we look around?” Vesper replied, drifting slowly through the space around us

  The frozen metal around us looked blank at first. Smooth, cold, untouched. But then I saw something off-color smeared onto the surface just to the left of the door.

  Not paint but Soot. Or maybe charcoal.

  Someone had drawn a crude symbol there. It looked like a rough, angular shape. Four points and four lines. Each corner was distinct, sharp, and deliberate. Beneath it, scrawled in the same black material, was a circle of numbers. A clock face drawn into the ice

  I crouched down, tracing the shape with my eyes, then the numbers. The circle was wide and uneven, but each digit had been carefully placed. The symbol above it must mean something…

  “Vesper,” I called, keeping my voice low.

  He floated closer, his glow flickering faintly as he hovered beside me.

  He tilted slightly, studying the symbol. “It doesn't look like a gang mark.”

  “Not the symbol. The numbers,” I said, pointing to the ring. “I think it’s a code.”

  I stood, brushing a hand against the soot. It smudged easily. Delicate. Not meant to last.

  “The numbers are in the circle… and the symbol above is made of lines.” I traced my finger along the symbol, “starting from the right, it goes diagonal left up, diagonal left down, straight across to where it began, then to the bottom middle.”

  “Like an angular 9,” Vesper said.

  “Yeah, maybe if I match the directions with the clock face.” I started tracing the same symbol, but inside the clock face. “I get 3… 12… 9… 3… 6… Maybe that's the code?” I said, standing up.

  Vesper hummed. “A puzzle to give the combination. Clever.”

  “What I don’t like is that it’s written recently. They knew someone would be here.” I replied.

  “With everything that's happened to us and how we followed this obvious trail, I don't doubt people are still following,” Vesper commented.

  “Should we erase this so nobody can follow us?”

  “It guarantees nobody random will get in, but it's up to you.”

  I rubbed out the 1 in the 12.

  “Plausible deniability,” I said as I stood up and turned back to the keypad on the door to enter the code.

  The keypad had 6 numbers for the combination, which fit right with our solution.

  312936

  There was a moment of silence. Then a mechanical thunk, low and deep, vibrated through the wall.

  The panel light turned green.

  The door unlocked.

  I pulled the handle again, and this time it gave way. Metal shifted smoothly as the entryway opened inward with a hydraulic hiss, revealing a hallway lit by low, flickering strips of amber light.

  Warm air rolled out.

  Not hot, but dense. It smelled of ash and metal. Used air. Lived-in space.

  I stepped inside, and the door closed behind me. Lights above me continued to flick on as I moved, one by one, their glow trailing along the hallway ahead.

  On the first interior wall, written in that same black soot, bold and unmistakable:

  YOU AREN’T ALONE

  No signature. No punctuation. Just large letters.

  Vesper hovered silently behind me.

  “Is this supposed to be comforting or unsettling?” I said, unsure.

  “I think they wanted to see who solved it and let them know there are others,” Vesper replied. “That or its a warning to not mess with this place.”

  Vesper hovered a little closer as we moved deeper.

  “We’re not following anymore,” I said, standing. “We’re in it now.”

  The walls seemed to agree. They closed tighter as we moved, halls growing narrower, lights dimmer, air heavier. But everything was clean. No collapse. No rusted corpses. No sign of battle or decay. Just this oppressive, waiting stillness.

  Then we turned a corner, and the hallway bloomed open into something else.

  A common room, maybe. Or a mess hall. A space meant for people to stop and breathe. Folding chairs were stacked neatly in the corner. Old sleeping rolls leaned against the far wall, long since flattened. An oil drum sat in the middle of the room, blackened with soot. Most likely used for fire.

  Graffiti covered the walls here, too. But one message spanned an entire panel, painted in broad, deliberate strokes:

  REVENANTS BLEED THE EARTH

  One life. Many deaths. We rise again.

  I stepped closer, reading it again. The first line had been violently crossed out. The second newer line stood untouched.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “I wonder what happened here,” I said quietly.

  Vesper’s glow pulsed. “Maybe a haven for Revenants?”

  My skin felt itchy at that. I know I am a Revenant, but others?

  “I just hope they’re friendly,” I said.

  I shifted my grip on the ice pick and turned my gaze to the hall ahead. Somewhere in this place, answers waited. Or something worse.

  Either way, we were already inside, and I wasn’t about to turn back now.

  The complex branched in every direction, with hallways stretching ahead and behind, stairwells climbing upward, and corridors trailing off into the dark. I tried to figure out where the party before me had gone, but once the tracks left the snow, they vanished into the smooth, uniform flooring. No scuffs. No boot prints. Nothing to follow.

  So I was left to wander.

  The place felt... neat. Not clean, exactly. Just intact. It wasn’t trashed. No signs of collapse, no broken fixtures. Lights still worked, doors still responded to movement, and every hallway carried that same faint hum in the walls.

  People had been here. Maybe still were. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to meet them.

  Pros: maybe answers. A name. A group. A reason this place even existed.

  Cons: they might kill me, loot my body, and go back to their fire like nothing happened.

  Fun, right?

  Either way, if there was anything valuable left in this place, it wouldn’t be stashed near the entrance. People don’t leave treasure in the lobby.

  So I started looking for a way down.

  Eventually, I found a staircase. Metal steps, still solid, leading into the dim below. A small emergency light blinked slowly above it, tinted red like the place was trying to warn me off.

  Didn’t work.

  I started my descent.

  The walls looked like solid metal

  The stairs went down farther than I expected.

  At first, the air felt the same. Cold, stale, metallic. But as I descended, a subtle warmth began to seep up from below. Faint at first. Then stronger. The air thickened. Still dry, but now carrying the distant scent of burned metal and heated stone.

  By the time I reached the third landing, I had to shrug out of my jacket. My arms felt damp beneath the sleeves, skin prickling from the heat. I tied it around my waist and kept going.

  The stairwell opened into a long corridor, wider than the others I’d seen. The lights here were active, brighter, casting long shadows behind the scattered support beams. The walls were lined with soot-streaked vents and old conduit piping, some of it still radiating gentle waves of heat.

  At the end of the hallway was a dead end with doors on either side. Above them was soot that smeared and shaped into letters.

  Above the left doorway was “THIS WAY TO LEARN.”

  And across the hall, over another door, written smaller was “to get out.”

  The door on the right was shut while the door on the left was wide open and inviting. Warm air drifted out of the entrance.

  “I think someone wants me to pick a certain path,” I muttered.

  Vesper hovered behind me, his glow steady but dim.

  “You gonna go in there anyway?”

  I exhaled slowly.

  I turned toward the open doorway.

  “I can go until my backpack runs out of rations. Then I die over and over again. I need to learn more and take a chance.” I said. I was scared, sure, but I needed to take the risk. Otherwise, I might end up like that frail, starving man who attacked me.

  I turned toward the heat. Toward whatever could be waiting inside.

  And I stepped through.

  The heat hit harder the moment I stepped through.

  It wasn’t just warm anymore. It was thick. Oppressive. The kind of heat that clung to skin and made it hard to breathe, like standing too close to an engine that had been running too long.

  The corridor inside was different from the others. The walls were darker, scorched in places, as if flames had licked across them and left blackened scars behind. The air shimmered faintly ahead, disturbed by waves of heat rising off the floor.

  I kept walking.

  Another doorway waited a few meters in, this one heavy and marked by old plastic signs half-melted off the wall. There was a room to the left. It was small, utilitarian, maybe a storage break or prep space. I stepped inside.

  It was empty. Just a bench bolted to the wall, a broken vent spilling heat, and a few metal hooks jutting out beside it.

  Good enough.

  I unslung my pack and dropped it onto the floor with a dull thud. Pulled off my scarf and what was left of the jacket, wiped my forehead. The heat was oppressive, a stark contrast to how i was living since my arrival. Or I guess my revival… revive-arriaval… there’s a joke in there somewhere.

  Whatever, I was sweating through all my layers already, so I took most of them off and stuffed them into what could fit in my pack.

  I checked my water canister and it still held enough for now.

  Vesper floated behind me, quiet.

  “There’s still time to turn back,” he said, not like he meant it.

  “I said I was going in.”

  “You did.”

  I was clearly suffering from the heat, but I could take a few guesses at what I might find at the end of it.

  The main hope was something invaluable.

  Answers.

  I took one last look around, slung my pack back on, and stepped into the hall.

  After walking for a while, with the heat rising far beyond anything comfortable, I saw a doorway ahead.

  As I approached, I looked inside. The room beyond was large and industrial. A hollowed-out chamber of scorched tile and blackened vents, long since repurposed from whatever it was originally meant for. Scorch marks covered the far wall. Metal plating had warped in places.

  In the center of the room stood a figure.

  He wasn’t armored. Just a long, heat-warped coat hung open over a frame built like a blade. He was lean, wiry, and balanced in that way that meant every part of him had been used in a fight before. His shirt was scorched at the collar, sleeves rolled to the elbow, arms streaked with soot and old scars. His skin had that Revenant stillness to it, like it wasn’t sure if it was alive or remembering how to be.

  His face was sharp, angular, with stubble dusted across his jaw and heatlines etched into his cheekbones. His eyes were the most intriguing. A pale gold and unfazed, like the center of a forge. Watching. Waiting.

  He was just standing there, arms crossed, head tilted slightly like they had been listening to me walk this whole way down.

  They looked up as I entered.

  “You’re new,” they said, voice calm, almost amused. “Still walking like you’ve got something to lose.”

  They didn’t raise their voice. They didn’t have to.

  The heat around them shimmered. Beneath their boots, the ground was scorched.

  “Leave your stuff outside,” the man said. “Don’t worry, I won’t take anything. Especially not that icefruit you’ve got stashed in your pack.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “Feels like it. Such a clean spike in energy, just faint enough to hide. Nice size too. About the size of a blueberry, if I sense correctly.” He looked me over. “And you're just carrying that around?”

  I didn’t answer. Just turned, stepped back, and set all my gear down outside the door.

  “You’ve got any idea what that thing does for someone like you?” he called out while I unshouldered the pack.

  “Umm, no?” I replied.

  “Then eat it.”

  I turned, eyes narrowing. “What if it’s more useful later?”

  He snorted. “Now is as later as you get. It strengthens the bond between you and your Phantom. Clears the static, lets the energy move like it’s supposed to. Does wonders for growth.” He watched me for a moment, then added, “It’s better for a newly rezzed anyway.”

  I reached into the pack, digging past bundled rations and my water canister, until my fingers brushed something smooth and cold. I pulled it out and held it in my palm.

  The icefruit sat there like a piece of frozen starlight. A tiny orb, faintly glowing, no bigger than a blueberry, like the man said. Its surface was smooth like crystal, but there was a strange softness beneath it, a give like the skin of a living thing.

  It still shimmered faintly in the dim heat of the room, like it didn’t care how hot the air had gotten.

  I looked up. “Why are you helping me?”

  The man just raised an eyebrow. “What’s your name?”

  I didn’t answer.

  He gave a slow nod. “Exactly,” he said, stepping closer, “You’re a newly rezzed. Just eat it. I’m trying to help you. We don’t have to be on opposite sides.”

  I stared down at the fruit.

  I then popped it into my mouth and bit into it as I walked back into the room.

  The outer skin gave with a soft crack, and the inside rushed out cold and sharp. It tasted like crushed mint and mountain stone, like the snap of glacial air and minerals soaked in snowmelt. The chill spread fast, slicing through my chest and up my spine. My veins lit up. My lungs felt like they’d been dipped in frozen fire.

  The heat of the room didn’t vanish, but it dulled. Pushed to the edge of my senses, like background noise in a far-off room. I could feel Vesper more clearly, too. Like a weight behind my shoulder that no longer felt detached. He pulsed, slow and steady. Almost calm.

  I opened my eyes. His gaze hadn’t moved. He was still studying me, like he was waiting to see what came next.

  “You’ll thank me later, blueberry.”

  The moment lingered. Stillness, heat, silence.

  Then the man exhaled slowly and walked to the door. His boots hissed against the scorched floor, each one leaving a fresh bloom of heat behind.

  Once he reached it, he closed it. It looked like a thinner vault door rather than a regular door, given how thick it was.

  "Alright," he said, voice level. "Let’s see if it helped."

  Before I could ask what he meant, the temperature jumped suddenly. One second, it was tolerable, and the next, it hit like the breath of a furnace. My skin prickled. Sweat broke along my spine.

  A low, pulsing vibration moved through the floor.

  “Maybe if you impress me, we can talk more after you revive,” the man said as he lifted a hand.

  The space around him shimmered, his body flickering through heat distortion. I could feel it even from several paces away. The pressure bent toward him, as if the room itself leaned in to listen.

  I stepped back, jaw tight. My hands were half-raised, but I had nothing to offer. No shape. No trick. Just instinct.

  Vesper drifted closer, light steady beside me.

  "I don't even know how to use a Fundamental," I said.

  "Good," he replied without missing a beat. "Then you won't get cocky."

  He rolled his neck once, loose and casual. The ground beneath his feet was beginning to glow. Not with fire, but heat itself, warping the tiles.

  "I’m going to attack," he said. "Not full force. Not unless you earn it."

  He watched me for a moment longer.

  "Impress me," he said once again,

  Then he moved.

  No buildup. No warning. Just motion. His body shifted, and the heat came alive with him, blooming outward like a second skin. I barely had time to react.

  I dropped low, fast.

  It was like trying to dodge a speeding train. His strike tore past me, close enough that the heat alone slammed into the wall behind, leaving the metal hissing and warped.

  I hit the floor, but before I could move, he was already there.

  I tried to roll away, but I was too slow.

  His kick landed square against my ribs. The force of it sent me flying, my body folding midair before I slammed into the wall with a crunch. I hit the ground hard, heat crawling over my skin like it was alive. Every surface burned with pressure.

  I sucked in a breath, but it wasn’t enough.

  He was already on top of me again.

  The next blow wasn’t a punch. Just a swipe of his hand, but it sent me tumbling across the room like I’d been struck by a wrecking bar. My ribs howled. My vision pulsed red. Nausea clawed up my throat.

  I crashed into another wall and stayed down for a moment.

  I forced myself up.

  I couldn’t keep taking hits. I had to do something.

  No weapon. No training. Just pain, adrenaline, and whatever was left of me. I charged him.

  He didn’t dodge. He let me come.

  I slammed into him shoulder-first, low, trying to drive him back. He shifted just enough to absorb the blow, grabbed my collar, and whipped me sideways like I weighed nothing.

  I hit the floor, rolled, and came back up, scrambling on all fours.

  I kicked with everything I had, catching his shin.

  He didn’t even flinch. Just stepped forward, grabbed my arm, and twisted. Pain flashed white. Something tore. I didn’t scream. I pulled myself closer and bit his hand.

  His skin was blistering hot. Like biting a piece of iron left in a forge.

  I didn’t stop.

  I pulled back, lip scorched, and swung a punch with the wrong hand. It hit. Glanced off his jaw. It barely moved him.

  Still. It landed.

  And that got his full attention.

  His hand closed around my throat, lifted me off the ground, and slammed me down again.

  My skull cracked tile. The world blinked.

  When I came to, I was on my back. The heat pressed in from all sides like a second gravity.

  I stood up. Shaky. Barely.

  I swung a kick and caught his side. It felt like kicking a wall.

  I kicked again, and he caught my ankle, twisted, and tossed me aside like garbage.

  I hit the ground hard. Limbs folded wrong. My whole body screamed.

  My head was cracked. My chest was raw. One arm wouldn’t move. My knee had gone somewhere sideways.

  I reached out, grabbed a shard of broken tile from the floor. It was sharp enough to cut into my palm, but I held it tighter.

  I stood again.

  He let me.

  As he approached, I slashed upward.

  He leaned just far enough for it to miss.

  I lunged again, teeth bared.

  He finally moved.

  His knee sank into my stomach. My body folded. No air came. I dropped to the floor, gasping. The shard of tile clattered on the ground.

  Still alive.

  I rolled, kicked at his legs, and dug my nails into his arm. He let me struggle. Let me scrape and claw and squirm like an animal.

  My hand found his face, and I raked my fingers down his cheek.

  He looked down at me. No anger.

  He swept my legs out from under me and stomped on my chest. Something broke.

  I coughed blood onto the floor.

  Still breathing.

  "I see you," he said.

  "How…" I managed to spit out.

  He knelt beside me, calm.

  "I’ve been here a long time," he said. "Name’s Thorn. ‘S one I gave myself. I’d like to hear yours, or at least whatever you may choose."

  He tilted his head.

  "You’ve got fire in you. Maybe not Solis fire, but something else. A drive, that fight, that’s the part that matters. I wonder what kind of Fundamental will come clawing out of you."

  I tried to crawl again.

  He rested one hand near my temple.

  "I like to meet Revenants this way," he said. "Tells me more than words ever could."

  He touched my forehead.

  "Sorry about the pain. See you around, Blueberry."

  His fingers tensed.

  Heat rushed through my skull.

  And the world unraveled.