Ash sat still, legs pulled close, arms wrapped around them. The branch beneath him creaked every time he shifted even a little, but he didn't want to move too much. He was afraid he'd wake Ken—or worse, that he already had.
Ken was lying just a few feet away. Breathing soft. But Ash wasn't sure if he was asleep or just pretending. Maybe Ken was awake too, just like him. Frozen. Scared. Waiting for something to happen.
It was too dark to see anything. And that was the problem. As in that darkness, there were noises. Growls. Screeches. Wet chewing sounds. Sometimes, claws scratching against bark. Sometimes, a low breath… too low to be human.
He couldn't sleep. No way. He wouldn't even try. Not when his ears were the only thing keeping him alive. Not when the moment he let go, something out there might crawl up and drag them down.
Ash kept staring into the dark, even though he couldn't see anything. And his mind—it started to drift. Like it always did when he was scared.
He remembered this one time when he was little. He had made toast for the first time without burning it. His brother Richie clapped for him like he just solved world hunger. And then they sat on the floor, eating toast and watching a holographic show that Richie had bought with his first sallery
Ash smiled, but then the smile faded. Because he remembered how Richie died. His hands started shaking, just a little.
Ash lowered his head and rested it against his knees. The wind was cold, but his mind felt colder. He didn't want to think. Didn't want to understand anything anymore. The more he learned, the worse it got.
He had seen too much. Heard too much. Fought too much. And the sword—the one he had thrown away—it was still calling to him.
He hated it.
But part of him missed the way it made him feel. Strong and undefeatable. But also like a monster.
Ash shivered as he remembered someone once told him—maybe his mom, maybe a teacher, he didn't remember now—"Knowledge is power."
No, he thought. Knowledge is fear.
Because once you know, you can't un-know. You can't close your eyes again. You can't pretend. He wished he could go back to just being scared of the dark like a kid. But now he knew the dark had teeth. And it chewed on gods.
He heard another screech far off. Closer than before. Ash didn't move. Just stared out into the nothing. Waiting. Breathing slow. Trying not to cry.
And for some reason, he thought of Sarah.
The way she smiled when she called him stupid. The way she flicked her hair when she got annoyed. That time she gave him gum, even though it was her last piece. Dumb things.
Ash held on to that.
Because he didn't want to think about the monsters anymore.
Didn't want to think about the sword.
Didn't want to think about what Ken had seen when he died.
Or what he might see when his turn came.
**
Morning didn't really arrive.
There was no sun to greet them. No warmth. No blue sky. Just cold air, soft mist, and a sky so pale it felt like the world hadn't woken up yet. Everything was grey.
Ash opened his eyes. He hadn't really slept, just drifted. Ken was already up. Standing near the trunk. Not saying anything.
They climbed down slowly. Ken moved stiffly, like his body was heavy. Ash helped him a bit, but Ken didn't say thanks. Didn't even look at him.
The ground was soft from the dew, every step made a faint sound. Like wet paper being torn. Birds didn't chirp. Insects didn't buzz.
Ash felt it, the silence. He missed home. Not the building or the bed or the food. The feeling of being safe.
He missed Sarah, the Wargods and even Ken. Their dumb jokes. The way they used to make fun of each other.
His chest hurt. A sharp sting under his ribs. But he didn't touch it. Didn't want to make a big deal out of it. Maybe it was just stress. Hunger. Sadness. He couldn't tell anymore.
Their bags were mostly empty. They had dropped most things when they were running from that creature in the ruins. No water. No food. No signal.
Ash had one energy bar. He broke it in half and gave one piece to Ken.
Ken took it. Ate it without a word. And that silence hurt more than anything.
Ken was always the one who joked, even when things were falling apart. He would say something dumb or sarcastic and Ash would roll his eyes, but secretly be thankful for it. Because that little bit of humor made things bearable.
Ash wanted to ask if he was okay.
But he already knew the answer.
They walked for a long time. Trees faded behind them. The air thinned out a bit. And then, through the mist, they saw it.
A mountain.
Huge. Grey. Like a wall in the middle of the world. Covered in fog and old scars of rockslides.
Ash stopped and stared. He didn't say anything.
Ken stood beside him. Still quiet.
The wind blew gently, moving the fog a little, revealing just how far up it went.