No one spoke after that.
Not right away.
The room held still—
like even sound might make things worse.
Joren sat slumped against the pillar.
Breathing.
Slower now.
But not better.
I kept watching him.
Waiting for him to say something else.
Something that made sense.
He didn't.
He had it.
For a moment—
he understood something none of us did.
And then it slipped away.
"So what does that mean?" Torvin finally said.
Not joking this time.
No edge.
Just… tired.
Rorik stepped away from the door.
Slowly.
Like he was choosing his next words carefully.
"It means we stop guessing," he said.
"And start thinking."
That sounded good.
It didn't help.
"It's a sickness," Harven said.
Too quickly.
Like he needed it to be that simple.
"It spreads. It changes people. That's all this is."
"Sickness doesn't wait," Freya said.
Quiet.
Measured.
"Sickness doesn't hesitate."
"It doesn't choose when to act."
She glanced toward Joren.
"This does."
The room shifted slightly.
No one liked where that was going.
"Sten wasn't with the hunters," I said.
That pulled attention back to me.
"He was already… like that," I continued.
"Before any of them got loose."
Torvin frowned.
"You're saying this started somewhere else?"
"I'm saying it didn't start with them," I replied.
"Then where did it?" Brenna asked.
"There was something in the square," I said.
That changed the room.
"Not like the others."
"It wasn't wandering."
"It wasn't lost."
I swallowed.
"It was watching."
"Watching?" Harven repeated.
"And the others…"
I hesitated.
"They moved differently around it."
"Like…"
I struggled for the words.
"Like the others looked to it for orders."
"So it's leading them," Torvin said.
"Or driving them," Freya added.
"Or feeding them," someone else muttered.
"Or feeding on them," Brenna said.
That one didn't sit right.
It sat too well.
"It takes something from them," I said quietly.
"That's what Joren said."
I looked at him.
Still slumped.
Still breathing.
"Not flesh," I added.
"Something else."
"Intent," Freya said.
"Emotion."
"That moment before you act."
"And it's not just taking it," Torvin said slowly.
"It's using it."
That pulled the room in tighter.
"Sten," I said.
The word felt heavier now.
"He wasn't just different," I continued.
"He was stronger."
"Faster."
"Like… something was pushing him."
"Same with the hunters," Harven added reluctantly.
"They didn't move like men anymore."
"So the more they take…" Torvin said,
"…the stronger they get."
"Not all of them," Freya said.
"Some were barely moving."
"Others…"
She hesitated.
"…weren't."
"Like the thing in the square," I said.
That silenced the room again.
"So there are levels," Torvin muttered.
"Not levels," Freya corrected.
"Differences."
"Hierarchy," Rorik said.
That word landed harder than anything else.
"Some of them take more," he continued.
"Some of them keep more."
"And something above them…"
He didn't finish.
He didn't have to.
"That thing out there," I said quietly,
"it wasn't like the rest."
"No," Freya agreed.
"It wasn't starving."
"It was full," Torvin added.
That was worse.
"Then we can't let them build," Harven said quickly.
"If they get stronger every time—"
"They don't stop," Freya finished.
"They escalate," I said.
"Then we don't give them time," Malek said.
His voice cut through everything.
"We don't wait."
"We don't watch."
"We kill them before they become something worse."
There it was.
The first real answer.
Rorik didn't shut it down.
That alone said enough.
"Fast," he said.
"Clean."
"No drawn-out fights."
His eyes moved across the room.
Measuring.
"And no mistakes."
That part stuck with me.
Because we'd already made several.
"If they get stronger when they fight…" Torvin said slowly,
"…then every second we hesitate—"
"—makes them harder to kill," Freya finished.
That should have been the end of it.
A rule.
A way forward.
Kill fast. Don't hesitate. Survive.
But something about it didn't sit right.
Because if that was true—
then this wasn't just happening.
It was working.
Freya's eyes shifted around the room.
Thinking.
Calculating.
Her eyes shifted around the room.
"What if that's what it wants?"
That stopped everything.
"Why?" Harven asked.
Frustrated now.
"Why would anything want that?"
"Because that's what makes us move," I said.
"Fear."
"Anger."
"Desperation."
I glanced around the room.
At the space between people.
At the way no one stood too close to anyone else anymore.
"Take that away…"
I hesitated.
Then corrected myself.
"…or even just twist it."
I didn't finish.
I didn't need to.
"You don't just control the body," she said.
"You control the person."
"No," Malek said.
Firm.
Immediate.
"People aren't that simple."
He looked at Joren.
Then at me.
"You don't just take someone like that."
I wanted to believe that.
I wasn't sure I did anymore.
"Then what is it doing?" Torvin asked.
"Spreading?"
"Testing?"
"Building something?"
The questions stacked.
Each one worse than the last.
None of them had answers.
"It doesn't matter why," Rorik said.
That cut through everything.
"Not yet."
He stepped forward slightly.
"We don't survive by understanding its purpose."
"We survive by not letting it take us."
"We hold here," he said.
"No one leaves alone."
"No one moves without being seen."
He pointed toward Joren.
"We watch for signs."
Then to the group.
"And we act fast when we see them."
Then, finally—
the door.
"And we prepare for it to come back."
It sounded like a plan.
It even sounded like a good one.
But something about it felt wrong.
Because whatever that thing was—
it wasn't reacting.
It was building something.