They began to climb.
The coral wall rose steep and jagged, every grip threatening to tear skin or snap bone. Blood smeared the surface where they climbed in desperate, uneven bursts. Behind them came the sound of pursuit—scraping claws and heavy impacts as the Bone Dogs followed.
Despite their canine shapes, the monsters climbed like mountain goats.
They flowed over the coral with terrifying ease, bone heads lowered, limbs finding impossible angles. They gained ground far faster than they should have, erasing the distance the humans had bought with their leap from the pillar.
They were getting too close.
"Shit—" Varkass snarled, twisting around on Oscar's shoulder. He thrust both hands downward.
A blinding white flash erupted from his palms, compressing into a straight, searing beam that tore through the dimming air. It slammed into the face of the nearest Bone Dog. The creature shrieked, a sound of pure agony, and lost its grip. It tumbled backward, limbs flailing, rolling end over end down the coral slope.
Its fall ended violently.
The monster's body smashed into a jagged spur of coral with a wet, bone-splintering crunch. The sound echoed. When the dust settled, it lay still, twisted at an impossible angle, black blood seeping into the reef.
For the first time, the pack hesitated.
The remaining Bone Dogs slowed, movements becoming measured, deliberate. When Varkass raised his hands again, they reacted instantly—dodging sideways or dropping low before the light could form. He tried again. And again. Each time, they avoided it with growing precision.
After the fourth failed attempt, Varkass dropped his arms, breathing hard. "Smart fuckers," he spat, frustration thick in his voice.
Above them, the coral ridge loomed.
Below them, the Dark Sea made its' appearance for the night.
The black ocean rose as if the world itself were bleeding.
It did not surge in like a normal tide. It welled up from nowhere, pouring out of some unseen rupture far beyond the horizon, a vast, lightless mass that swallowed the lower reaches of the Coral Labyrinth in minutes. Where there had been jagged reef and winding paths, there was now only a churning expanse of darkness. The water climbed relentlessly, claiming pillar after pillar until the labyrinth's floor became its seafloor.
From above, the Sleepers could hear it.
Distant screeching echoed across the reef—thin, panicked sounds that cut off abruptly. Shouts followed, human voices stretched into desperate, broken pleas before being dragged under. Somewhere out there, unlucky souls had failed to reach higher ground in time. The Dark Sea did not grant second chances.
Yet the water itself was not the worst of it.
What truly inspired dread were the things that lived within.
Shapes moved beneath the surface—vast, indistinct silhouettes that displaced water by their mere presence. Colossal creatures glided through the darkness, their bulk so immense that even Centurions or Bone Dogs would be reduced to nothing more than debris if struck. They were not necessarily of a much higher Rank, but Rank meant little when confronted with sheer size and mass. One careless movement from such a thing could shatter coral formations that had stood for decades.
Jahness felt his stomach knot as memories surfaced unbidden.
The first night. His first mistake.
He could still see it clearly: the small fire he had lit, foolishly seeking warmth and comfort in the dark. The glow had barely lasted minutes before the water beneath his reef had stirred. From the blackness had risen something like a sea manta, its body broad enough to blot out the stars, its underside rippling with unnatural folds. It had attached itself to the coral with a horrifying suction force, the reef groaning as if about to be torn free and dragged under.
He had survived that night by pure chance—nothing more. A sudden shift in current. A moment's hesitation from the creature. Enough for him to scramble higher and cling on while the coral beneath him cracked and fell away.
Since then, he never slept with light.
Now, as the Dark Sea finished swallowing the lower labyrinth and the last echoes of screaming faded into silence, Jahness tightened his grip on the coral. Above them was safety—temporary, fragile safety.
Below them was the abyss.
And it was very much staring back up at them.
"Don't look back! Keep moving!" Oscar's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and urgent. His skin had taken on an almost bruised, crimson hue, muscles twisting beneath it like coiling snakes. Every fiber of him strained, the raw power of his Aspect pushed to its limits. Yet that very power carried a curse: overuse could lead to catastrophic muscle failure, even cardiac arrest. Jahness felt a spike of fear—not for himself, but for Oscar, for the way he was throwing his body into the impossible. Still, there was no time for hesitation. Just keep going. Don't drag him down, Jahness told himself grimly, forcing his legs to move even when his chest screamed to stop.
Ahead, Lina had pulled slightly forward, every step sharper, more precise despite the pounding of her lungs and the ache in her side. Her eyes lit up as she spotted a nearby rise in the coral, a jagged ledge that promised temporary refuge. She pointed with a trembling hand, voice sharp with excitement. "There! That should be high enough!"
All three glanced up instinctively. Oscar's jaw tightened; the red flush on his skin deepened. His breathing came in quick, controlled bursts as he nodded once. "Come on!"
With desperation fuelling every step, they surged forward as though death itself were clawing at their heels. Their hands tore at the coral, fingers finding impossible holds, feet skimming jagged edges. Each movement carried a violent grace born of pure necessity.
The Bone Dogs, sensing the nearing escape, abandoned the caution they had maintained for the past moments. Their patience shattered like glass. With renewed frenzy, they leapt instead of climbing, bounding over obstacles with terrifying precision, jaws snapping and bone heads aimed directly at their quarry.
Varkass, slung over Oscar's shoulder, struggled to lift his arms enough to fire a light beam, sweat streaking his pale face. With effort, he managed it, the flash searing toward one of the monsters. It struck its eye socket, and the Bone Dog screeched and faltered for a fraction of a second—but that was all. In a cruel twist, the monster had shifted its head at the last moment. Only one eye had been blinded. The creature's remaining gaze burned with a feral obsession, its rage intensified rather than quelled.
"Fuck me!" Varkass gasped, held firmly by Oscar as his body trembled from both strain and fear. His pale face pressed against Oscar's shoulder, arms weak and unsteady, but there was no time to dwell on it—the chase pressed onward, relentless, and the jagged coral ahead offered the only chance to survive.
The four of them surged forward, hearts hammering, every instinct screaming to keep climbing, keep moving. Behind them, the Bone Dogs screamed their rage into the darkening sea, each leap and snap a reminder that the abyss was never far away, and that death was catching fast.