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"Inside. Now."
Evan didn't wait for agreement.
He moved.
Damien followed instantly.
Lia stayed still for half a second longer.
Just long enough to feel it.
That pull again.
Faint threads brushing against her awareness like fingertips dragging across glass.
Testing.
Searching.
For her.
Her chest tightened.
Then she turned and went in.
The door shut behind them with a heavier sound than it should have made.
Like it meant something.
Like it sealed something.
Evan locked it.
Then didn't step away.
He stood there for a moment, listening—not to the hallway, not to the street… but to something deeper, something quieter.
"Tell me you've got wards or something," Lia said, trying to keep her voice steady.
Evan glanced back at her. "Not the kind you're hoping for."
"…That's not comforting."
"No," he said. "It's realistic."
Damien moved further into the room, checking corners, windows, blind spots out of habit more than necessity.
"They didn't follow us in," he said.
Evan nodded once. "They don't need to."
Lia crossed her arms, irritation cutting through the tension. "Can someone explain what they actually are?"
Silence.
Not empty.
Measured.
Then Evan spoke.
"Scouts."
The word landed wrong.
Too simple.
Too harmless.
"They didn't feel like scouts," Lia said.
"They're not," Damien added.
Evan exhaled slowly. "They're what comes first."
A pause.
"To confirm you're real."
Lia felt something cold settle in her stomach.
"…And now?"
Evan's gaze lifted to her.
"Now they report back."
The room seemed to shrink slightly.
Not physically.
But in feeling.
Like the walls had leaned in just a little closer.
Lia looked down at her hands again.
Flexed them.
Still nothing.
"…So what," she muttered. "We just sit here and wait for something worse to show up?"
Damien didn't hesitate.
"No."
Her head snapped up.
"No?" she repeated.
"No," he said again. "We don't wait."
Evan raised a brow slightly. "You have a better plan?"
Damien's eyes flicked to Lia.
Then back.
"We move before they do."
"And go where?" Evan asked.
"Away from here," Damien said simply.
"That's not a location."
"It doesn't need to be. It just needs to be not here."
Lia let out a breath, running a hand through her hair. "Running without knowing what we're running from sounds like a great way to run straight into it."
"It's already coming to you," Damien said.
That shut her up.
Because he wasn't wrong.
Again.
Evan pushed off the door finally, stepping further into the room. "We don't have enough information to move blind."
"And we don't have time to sit still," Damien countered.
The tension between them sparked fast.
Sharp.
Different from before.
Less personal.
More strategic.
Lia watched it, then cut in.
"Stop."
Both of them looked at her.
Good.
"Argue later," she said. "Right now we need to figure out one thing."
A beat.
"What triggers it."
Silence followed.
Then—
Evan's gaze sharpened.
"The mark."
"Yeah," Lia said. "Before, it reacted to them. The circle. Whatever they did."
Damien frowned slightly. "You think you can trigger it again?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "But if it's the only way to understand what's happening, then we need to try."
"No."
The answer came instantly.
Firm.
Final.
Lia turned to Damien.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm not letting you force that," he said.
"You don't get to decide that."
His jaw tightened. "I get to stop you from doing something reckless."
Her eyes narrowed. "Reckless is not understanding what's coming for us."
"Reckless is pushing something you already almost lost control of."
The words hit.
Hard.
But this time—
Lia didn't back down.
"Almost," she said again. "Not did."
"That's not the point."
"It is to me."
Their voices didn't rise.
But the tension did.
Evan watched the exchange, then stepped in before it snapped completely.
"She's not wrong."
Damien shot him a look.
Evan didn't flinch.
"If we don't understand it, we're reacting blind," he said. "And that's worse."
Damien exhaled slowly, tension still tight in his shoulders.
"…And if she loses control again?"
Evan didn't answer immediately.
Because there wasn't a good answer.
Lia did.
"Then you stop me."
Both of them looked at her.
Her expression didn't waver.
"I'm serious," she said. "If it goes too far, you shut it down."
"With what?" Damien asked.
She held his gaze.
"You."
That landed heavier than she expected.
Because it wasn't just strategy.
It was trust.
And he knew it.
A long pause followed.
Then—
"…Fine," he said quietly.
Not agreement.
Not approval.
But acceptance.
Evan nodded once. "Then we control the environment."
Lia frowned. "Meaning?"
"No surprises," he said. "No outside interference. We do it here."
Damien shook his head. "That's a risk."
"Everything is a risk right now," Evan replied. "At least this way we choose which one."
Silence settled again.
But this time—
It wasn't tense.
It was focused.
Lia stepped back slightly, creating space between them.
Her pulse picked up.
Not from fear.
From anticipation.
"…Okay," she said. "So how do I trigger it?"
Evan's gaze dropped briefly to her chest.
Then back to her.
"Think about what you felt before."
"That's not helpful."
"It's not supposed to be easy."
Lia let out a breath, closing her eyes.
The memory came back fast.
The circle.
The pressure.
The feeling of being pulled in every direction at once.
Her chest tightened.
"…It was like something was pushing in," she said slowly. "And then… something else pushed back."
"Good," Evan said. "Focus on that."
Lia swallowed.
Easier said than done.
But she tried.
She let the memory settle.
Let the feeling come back.
That pressure.
That pull.
Her fingers curled slightly.
Nothing.
"…It's not working," she muttered.
"Don't force it," Damien said quietly.
Lia ignored him.
She pushed harder.
Focused deeper.
The memory sharpened—
And then—
There.
A flicker.
The mark pulsed.
Once.
Lia's breath caught.
"I felt that," she whispered.
Evan straightened slightly. "Again."
She tried.
This time—
The pulse came faster.
Stronger.
A faint warmth spreading beneath her skin.
Damien stepped closer instinctively.
"Lia—"
"I'm fine," she said quickly.
But her voice wasn't as steady anymore.
The air in the room shifted.
Subtle.
But real.
Evan felt it too.
"…It's starting," he said.
Lia's eyes opened.
Slowly.
And this time—
She could see it.
Not clearly.
Not fully.
But enough.
Faint threads.
Stretching.
Reaching.
Through the walls.
Through the space around them.
Her breath hitched.
"…They're still out there."
Damien's expression hardened. "Then stop."
Lia shook her head slightly.
"I can't."
The threads reacted.
Pulled tighter.
Closer.
Like something on the other end had noticed.
Evan's voice dropped. "You're not just triggering it."
Lia's pulse spiked.
"…What?"
"You're answering it."
The realization hit all at once.
Sharp.
Cold.
The threads weren't just searching anymore.
They were connecting.
Fast.
Too fast.
"Lia, stop," Damien said again.
This time—
She tried.
She really did.
But the connection had already formed.
The pull was stronger now.
Deeper.
Her body tensed.
"…I don't know how," she said, panic slipping in.
The room darkened slightly.
Not visually.
But in feeling.
Like something had leaned over them.
Close.
Too close.
Evan's eyes snapped to the window.
"…We've got a problem."
A shadow moved across the glass.
Not passing.
Not shifting.
Watching.
Then another.
And another.
Lia's breath broke.
"They found me."
Damien stepped in front of her instantly.
Too late.
The glass—
Cracked.
A thin line at first.
Then spreading.
Fast.
Violent.
The threads snapped tight in Lia's vision.
And for the first time—
She understood.
They weren't coming.
They were already here.
The window shattered inward.
And the dark came with it.