I can feel it like an ache in my soul. Like a crack in reality. Like a numb limb, like the cold of a chasm, the burn before inhale, a stab of electricity—

Space stretches around Trenevalt and I, distorting like a funhouse mirror. The room seems to elongate, my vision warped senselessly, as a black seam etches itself upon reality and the fabric of space is pulled so wide it rips the stitches open.

Void spills out.

The black is infinite and it’s empty, the concentrated essence of nothing, and yet somehow, impossibly, some thing emerges from the dark.

A nearly-forgotten pain tears through me like a reopened scar. Raw emotions swell from the black and overflow into me: victorious, malicious… starving.

Trenevalt gives a shout as the void swirls around him, purple energy crackling to life in his fingertips. I catch a glimpse of the magic still glowing faintly about the homunculus shell—the ceiling vanishing behind a curtain of black—a lightning bolt summoned to Trenevalt’s grasp—and then the dark clamps down on us.

Something stabs through me. My glass cracks, and I feel my surroundings shatter. I fall to the floor with a jarring impact and can hear Echo distantly reporting, [3 points of Fall damage sustained,] as agony lances through me. I writhe, trying to escape the searing sensation, and then—

All light vanishes from the world. The pain dulls. It’s still there, pulsing faintly in my soul, but my limbs, my glass, everything else has gone numb.

“Begone, beast!” It’s Trenevalt’s voice. Distant. I try to turn, to look for the source of his voice, but this place doesn’t seem to have direction, or depth, or…

I’m Between.

Alarm and fear shoot through me. Does this mean it killed me? That… predator in the dark? What had even just happened? How did it reach us?

The spell Trenevalt had been performing. Did it harness the Between, just like the original spell he’d created to siphon energy (and Noli and I) into his homunculus core? Did the predator use that opportunity to jump into reality? Maybe. I can’t come up with any other explanations with my limited understanding. But I suppose it doesn’t matter, because now it’s out there, and I’m in here.

“Back!” Trenevalt’s voice wafts from an indistinguishable direction. Something ripples through the dark. An effect of his magic, maybe? Or something to do with the predator. I shiver, hoping it’s not the latter. If he does send it back here, and it finds me waiting…

Well, I guess I’m already dead. But that can’t be the whole explanation, can it? If it did kill me—again—then why am I still Between? Why not snapped back to Earth or moved beyond?

Another ripple passes through the black. This time, I latch onto the sensation. It’s not from any direction, exactly, but grasping it seems to bring me closer to reality. Like I’m still connected to what’s happening with Trenevalt and the creature—somehow tethered…

Ah! That’s it. I am tethered. Where there should be nothing, I can feel the finest thread of magic strung through the dark. On this end, it’s bound to my soul. And on the other side, if I follow it back…

“Gods give me strength.” Energy ripples past me. There’s an impression of movement, of struggle, and I press harder at the sensations, pulling myself along the thread.

Pain. My chest is icy cold, my hand throbbing and frail. Weakness trembles through my limbs as I stumbled back against a wall with the dawning fear that this might be it—

But these aren’t my thoughts. I don’t have a stomach or a hand. It’s what Trenevalt is feeling, his emotions leaking through this tenuous tether of magic. But tangled with his impressions, I can feel an echo of the predator: satisfied, wolfish, and triumphant.

A surge of defiance from Trenevalt. Magic crackles back along the connection, stinging me with its ferocity even at this ethereal distance.

Surprise—a burning heat searing into my essence—anger and disbelief. The predator’s elation evaporates into fury and spite as Trenevalt’s magic lashes around it. Shockwaves of the struggle tremble back into the Between, and it’s all I can do to clutch at my lifeline as their anger and fear and determination wash over me.

The void shudders. Trenevalt’s magic pulls at it, digging its claws into the fabric of nothing, and slowly, steadily, he drags it toward existence. Reality and Between strain against each other like two negative poles of a magnet. And just as obstinate, the predator is fighting Trenevalt’s hold.

I can feel something. Me, I feel it, not some projection from another. It’s the warmth of reality. The cradle of sensation. And it’s growing stronger, more distinct, as the gap between these two planes close.

And with it, like the radiating heat of a fire, I feel the predator’s attention fall over me.

I don’t waste a moment—I just jump. I seize the spell tethering me back to this world, and I leap for reality. The line separating Between from the physical plane blurs, the boundary evaporating for an instant, and in that moment I can see the room open up below me, blood and ichor and burns and deep grooves etched across every surface—

And the predator, formless, achromic, existing only as hate and hunger, coils in anticipation as our paths converge.

Whorls of Trenevalt’s magic are cinched around it, forcing it back Between—back toward me. But it resists the pull, waiting for me to fall toward it, and at this rate I don’t know that I can stop my descent. The magic tether is snapping me back toward my glass vial, reality rushing up to meet me. The predator waits until the last moment, when we’re passing each other by, then lashes out toward me, and I desperately twist away—

Silence.

The room is still. Empty. I’m on the floor, dim light filtering through a window clouded by… something. The signs of battle are all that’s left of the study. The desk is demolished. Books and pages scattered. Around me are mountains of ice—no. The fractured remains of the homunculus shell. No longer sinister, but sad and broken.

And the predator is nowhere to be seen.

I’m… alive. The realization doesn’t fill me with as much relief as I would have thought. I just feel weary. Anxious. Exposed. I might have made it back to reality, but that doesn’t mean the predator is back Between. There’s no sign of Noli or Trenevalt either.

Gingerly, I roll myself over. Fragments of glass crunch beneath me. Half my vision is obscured by a smear of grime—dark and muddy, likely a mix of dust and whatever else I’d rolled through. There’s also a stark white lightning bolt cutting through my sight. I recall the moment of stabbing pain before I was thrown Between, and I immediately stop moving.

Echo? I call, wondering if she’s even still there. She’s been so silent through all this. Check. Health Check.

[Check,] Echo says, and somehow just hearing her voice eases some of my dread. [HP: 4/10. Passive healing limited to a max health of 6.]

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Why? I ask. Because of the crack?

[Affirmative.]

The temporary hit points are gone too, probably because my Attuned glass is out of range—or, more likely, destroyed. Not ideal, but I’ve got bigger things to worry about right now. The crack is at least just a crack, and not the gaping hole I’d feared to find. It’s made me more fragile, but it won’t kill me. Not now, at least.

Unwilling to roll through the debris that surrounds me, I summon the last four Attuned pieces of glass still left in my inventory. It takes me a minute to get the limbs situated under me. Two of them are smaller than the others, designed for signing instead of walking. I’ll just have to make do.

I begin to maneuver out of the shattered remains of the homunculus shell, but I don’t even know where I’m going. The floor and walls are scarred with claw marks and blackened as if there were a fire. Stains in the floorboards present mental images I don’t want to think about. How could all of this have happened so fast? I couldn’t have been Between for more than a handful of… the concept slips away from me. Time is meaningless Between. So how much passed out here?

Papers crinkle as I walk over them, and I cringe at the slight noise. Paranoia tells me I’m being watched, but I try to shove the anxiety aside. If it is the predator, if it is waiting to pounce, there’s nothing I can do about it anyway.

Several of Trenevalt’s books are scattered around the collapsed remains of the desk. Uneasily, I wade through the litter, searching for any glints of copper among the debris. Any springs, gears. Bits of metal.

And to my relief, I find none. She’s not here, at least.

Do I leave? Is now the time to escape this place for good? Maybe Noli made it outside and is waiting for me. I could search the rest of the house, but the quiet is pressing on me like gravity. It still feels like there’s danger in the air. Something left hidden.

It’s time to go. Literally or metaphysically, the predator is still too close for comfort. I need to get out of here.

I wince at every tinkle of broken glass and rustle of paper as I pick my way over the floor as fast as I dare. My path out of the study and toward the front door carries me past Trenevalt’s bedroom, a room I heretofore avoided out of a strict aversion to seeing (or cleaning) any grandpa underpants. Despite my best efforts to ignore the dark, yawning door frame, I can make out a figure in the dim.

I freeze. It’s Trenevalt, seated against the back wall. He doesn’t move, so maybe he didn’t see me. I take a slow, cautious step forward—and slip on a piece of glass. I stumble with a jolt of alarm, and pieces of debris go rolling and clinking across the floor.

But Trenevalt still doesn’t move.

Ice creeps over me. This time I take a step toward his bedroom instead of away from it. I tap at the ground, intentionally, and as loud as I can manage. He doesn’t react.

Echo? I start to ask. Can you… But I stop myself. I’m not sure if I actually want to know. At least, not in her clinical terms.

There’s something glowing dimly next to him in the darkness. A hint of magic. Some of my dread creeps away; if he’s still doing magic, then maybe he isn’t…

I move cautiously into the bedroom. The floor here is clear from most of the debris. Yet each faint tap of my limbs seems like a thunderclap in the still air, each footfall a crack snapping through the frozen ice of this moment. And as I grow closer, details resolve into horrific clarity.

He’s slumped against the wall, head fallen against his chest. The faint glow of magic is from his charmed bracelet, splattered with blood and still on his wrist, which is laying limply at his side. And that’s when I realize what I’m covered in—what’s obscuring my vision. This by itself is gruesome enough, but I hardly even register it when I see—

There’s a gaping hole in Trenevalt’s chest. His entire shirt is stained deep with blood, so dark it had been indistinguishable from the shadows. But now that I’ve noticed, I can’t tear my gaze away, and I follow the macabre river down his robes, across the floor, pooled in a great grisly lake toward—

I take an appalled step back from what I’d been mere inches from stepping in. And now, finally, the reality hits me.

Oh god. He’s dead. He’s really dead. I’m standing feet away from an actual body. I want to puke, but I have no bile. I wish I could cry, but I have no tears. I want to scream, or yell, or hyperventilate or—anything, anything to be able to release these feelings, to cast them out into the world so they’re no longer building up in me, like a pressure that’s going to make me crack.

There’s a scraping sound behind me and I whip around. The smear of Trenevalt’s blood is still obscuring half my vision, so I have to pivot, swiveling around wildly to catch sight of—

Noli. She’s in the doorframe, whole and uninjured. Relief spills through me like a burst dam. She’s okay. She’s okay. After Trenevalt—after everything—this one miracle is enough to keep me going. At least there’s this. At least she’s okay.

But she’s not moving into the room. She lifts a limb, as if to sign something, then hesitates. My brief elation sinks back into subdued exhaustion once more.

I lower myself to the ground so I can use my limbs for signing instead.

“You?” I sign, asking if she’s okay, or as close as I can manage. I could use Echo to Check, but it’s not her HP I’m worried about.

“I’m okay,” she signs, as if the spell is broken, and takes a few hesitant steps toward me. “Are you alright?”

I start to sign a “Yes,” then hesitate. I don’t know. No. But I’m alive, aren’t I? That should be enough, shouldn’t it? Instead, I shrug.

She nods as if she understands. Carefully picking her way over to me, she stops at my side. She looks at Trenevalt for a moment in silence.

“He’s dead,” she finally signs. “That thing killed him. From Between. I watched it happen, and I couldn’t do anything.”

I don’t know what to say. “Where?” I sign.

“That monster?” Noli asks, and I confirm. “I don’t know. It was just… chaos. I’m not even sure about everything that happened. It was like—like the world wasn’t right. Like it was flimsy. Like this house had stopped being a real house and it was just—just a drawing of one. I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”

Something to do with Between, I guess. But that doesn’t answer where the predator vanished to. I’d like to hope the spell Trenevalt used to try to send it back Between had worked in the end, but there’s no way to know.

“We need to leave,” Noli signs, and I couldn’t agree more. I pick myself back up as Noli heads for the doorframe, then I hesitate, looking back at Trenevalt’s body. Shit. I’d rather not, but we can’t leave this place empty-handed.

“Kanin?” Noli notices as I creep over to Trenevalt’s side. I try not to think about what I’m walking toward as I cautiously approach his hand. I try not to think about what I’m walking through. I try not to feel it. The horror of the situation is too heavy to truly grasp.

The beads of his bracelet shine faintly through the dark. We’ll need this if we want to keep track of how long we’ve got before our spell expires. Before we’re thrown Between once more. I don’t know if that’s something we should stop or not—or even if it’s something we can stop—but it’s better for us to prepare for it, I think. I tap my glass against the bracelet, and like flexing a mental muscle, try to add it to my inventory.

[Charmed bracelet added to inventory,] Echo says as the bracelet vanishes.

“What was that?” Noli asks as I join her at the door.

I don’t have the vocabulary to even begin to explain.

She seems to realize this too. “We’ll talk about it later. Now, I’ve figured out how to get the door open if—Kanin, where are you going?”

I don’t plan on coming back here, so we’ll need to snag anything that might help us before we go. I detour to the remains of the desk, searching for familiar leather bindings. I can’t pick up all the loose pages, but a single book will just count as one item in my inventory. I find two of the ones Trenevalt had consulted before… well, everything went to shit. They might tell us something about our spells. And if they don’t… At least I tried. I add them both to my inventory as well.

“Ready?” Noli asks. She’s waiting, but by the way she’s wringing her limbs and shifting back and forth, I can tell she’s anxious to get out of here. I don’t blame her—but there’s one last thing for me to grab.

How many inventory spaces have I got left? I ask Echo.

[Inventory: 38/50]

Okay. Right.

I begin to weave my way through the wreckage, mentally counting down as I add twelve of the largest pieces of glass I can find to my inventory. When I’m done, I pause to survey what remains of the homunculus shell. Something that had caused me so much anxiety these past few days, and now I’m looting it for scraps.

In addition to the bracelet and books, that’s 47 shards for me to work with, not counting the four I currently have out and Attuned. Somehow, it doesn’t feel like enough.

Noli, loyal as ever, is still waiting for me when I’m done. I wait for her to say something, to comment on what I’m grabbing, or why I’m wasting time. Instead, she’s only subdued as she signs, “Let’s go.”

At the front door, Noli climbs a curtain up to a nearby windowsill. From there she jumps across to the handle, leveraging it open. The door swings inward a few inches. I wonder how many times Noli has practiced this.

Then… we’re outside.

It’s sunset, our surroundings cast in a gilded orange light, and strange sounds hush around us. The buzz of insects. The chirping of birds. A breeze nudges faintly against me and sends murmurs through the canopy of nearby trees. It all seems far too peaceful out here for the death and carnage that lies in the shadows just behind us.

We both stand there for a moment, absorbing the paradoxical sights and sounds of life. Before us is a road, an opportunity to start taking our fate into our own hands. The first step forward, to move past all of this.

But for all this opportunity and potential, I’m just as keenly aware of the predator that’s lurking somewhere just out of sight, as inescapable as my shadow.