"Enough," the fur-cloaked hooded figure said, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.
The towering giant halted mid-swing, the massive greatsword still humming with dark energy. Moments ago, he'd been unleashing wave after wave of shadowy blades, each one tearing through the forest with terrifying force—toppling trees and carving deep scars into the land.
But despite the devastation, the two figures darting through the treetops had managed to stay ahead. Barely. One had already lost an arm to a near-miss, but they kept moving.
The hooded man didn't look at the giant again. Instead, his gaze shifted to a group of three armored men nearby.
"Fetch me the heads of those tree-dancing pests," he said, a faint smirk in his voice.
As the hooded man turned back toward the cave—one of the tunnels connecting to the second defensive line—a wide, unsettling grin crept across his blackened lips. The lower half of his face, visible beneath the hood, revealed cracked, bone-pale skin stretched tight over his jaw.
"I'll make excellent use of them…" he murmured, voice low and almost gleeful.
A deep rumble echoed from within the tunnel, followed by the sudden rush of movement—then came the swarm. A tidal wave of rats spilled forth, grey and slimy-furred, just like the ones Cassian had fought earlier. But this time, the numbers were staggering. Tens of thousands, easily. The entire tunnel seemed packed to bursting, with hundreds already spilling into the open—and these were even larger and more grotesque than before.
But the horror didn't stop there.
Dragged behind the horde were several humans—seven in total. Their bodies were bloodied and torn, fresh wounds covering them, some barely conscious, others moaning in pain. Yet they were still alive.
The hooded man looked upon them and chuckled darkly, his cracked grin stretching wider."A fine harvest this time… young, ripe, and just full of potential."
As he spoke, his gaze swept across each of them, inspecting only their heads. Satisfied with what he saw, he nodded slightly and continued, "Collect the heads. With these, and the other two, we have enough for Project Mnemos."
Muttering something under his breath, he made a series of hand signs. His shadow began to swell, expanding into a gaping void of darkness beneath him. Then, the rats came.
Hundreds—no, thousands—of them poured from the cave, swarming toward him and vanishing into the dark pit his shadow had become. They kept coming for minutes, an endless tide of chittering bodies disappearing into the void.
Cassian and Simon could only stare in disbelief. What they had just witnessed was no small trick—the man who'd ordered their heads was a Spital Mage.
As the entire company of traitors began to move out, some carried with them sealed glass jars—each containing a human head, suspended in a thick green liquid. Strangely, the heads were still… alive. Though their eyes remained shut, faint twitches danced across their faces—muscles spasming, expressions shifting as if trapped in some lingering dream… or nightmare.
It wouldn't be long before Cassian and Simon's heads joined the collection.
Three riders had already broken off from the group, galloping silently into the woods—hot on their trail.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..." Simon muttered on repeat, his voice tight with panic, sweat pouring down his brow as he leapt from one branch to another. His eyes were wide, barely blinking, and every movement screamed desperation.
Cassian followed close behind, fear gripping his chest, but more focused—at least on the outside. Blood streamed from the stump of his arm, but the skin was already writhing, twisting, growing. Muscle and bone rapidly knit together, flesh forming as a new arm began to regenerate.
It was the first time he'd ever lost a whole limb… and honestly, he thought he'd have to cut it off again. Most healing abilities couldn't regrow arms—just close wounds. But his was doing more. He could feel the bones forming, the sinew pulling tight. And with it, a heavy drain setting in.
Still, neither of them slowed.
Even though no one was chasing them outright, they knew damn well they hadn't been let go. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
Cassian gritted his teeth, eyes locked on Simon ahead of him, who kept nervously glancing back mid-jump.
"Eyes forward, Simon!" he barked, "You'll slam into a tree if you keep that up!"
They weren't running on the ground—they were flying from tree to tree, which was faster, yes, but way more dangerous.
"And don't stop," Cassian added, his voice low and firm. "Just. Keep. Running."
Despite being in full-blown panic, Simon listened to Cassian and forced himself to look forward. But the moment he did, dread hit him like a punch to the gut.
There were no more trees ahead.
Well—there were… but miles away across the other side of the valley, and far below them at the base of a steep drop. They had unknowingly reached the edge of a massive cliff, where the forest simply ended and opened up into a deep, sprawling gorge.
The ground beneath their feet vanished, and all that waited ahead was open air and a long, deadly fall.
For a brief, comically tragic moment, both Cassian and Simon were suspended mid-air, eyes wide, staring at each other like two idiots in a painting.
And then gravity remembered its job.
"AAAAHHH!" Simon screamed, flailing wildly as he fell. "If you survive—tell my parents I tried, okay?! I really did!"
Cassian, still falling beside him, blinked. "Who the hell are your parents—?!"
"Just ask around—if you make it!"
Cassian wanted to say something too—something dramatic or meaningful—in case Simon survived and he didn't. But no one really came to mind. A few faces flashed through his brain, but he had no clue what he'd even say to them. 'Sorry I fell off a cliff?'
A few large, stubborn trees jutting out from the cliff wall below them, growing out at odd angles like nature had just given up trying to make sense of itself.
Cassian grinned mid-fall and pointed. "You can tell them yourself."
Simon followed his gaze—and his face lit up. "Oh hell yeah!"
The two twisted their bodies mid-air, aiming for the trees like deranged squirrels trying not to die.