Within a breath, the his friends arrived—each drawn to the fountain’s promise of respite. They moved without words, seeking the same quiet healing Noah had found moments before. He watched them from the edge, the hum of shared survival settling between them like mist.
Noah lifted his hands from the water, fingers clean and body returned to its full vigor. With a quiet exhale, he removed the mask from his face and passed it back to its maker. Salt hung in the air, sharp and grounding. He breathed it in, letting it anchor him.
“We’ll need bait,” he said, voice low but steady. His head tipped back, neck rolling to stretch stiff muscles. “Draw the void out.” The idea struck like flint—quick, bright, and full of direction. It wasn’t a full plan. Not yet. But the fire had been lit, and soon—he knew—Deimos would help forge it into something solidin the thread that’s already done.
Fin
Noah lifted his hands from the water, fingers clean and body returned to its full vigor. With a quiet exhale, he removed the mask from his face and passed it back to its maker. Salt hung in the air, sharp and grounding. He breathed it in, letting it anchor him.
“We’ll need bait,” he said, voice low but steady. His head tipped back, neck rolling to stretch stiff muscles. “Draw the void out.” The idea struck like flint—quick, bright, and full of direction. It wasn’t a full plan. Not yet. But the fire had been lit, and soon—he knew—Deimos would help forge it into something solid
Fin
the forsaken
