"You can outrun fire. But not the fear behind it."
— Saying from an old plague-runner
---
LOCATION: EDGE OF THE DEAD GROUNDS – BELOW SOLAGUN
Damaso was running. Hard.
He didn't even know where he was running to. He just knew something was behind him, and it was not small, and it was not friendly.
His legs already felt like noodles. The ground was uneven and rocky. Everything looked dead. No plants. No animals. No warmth. Just broken stuff and the color of dust.
He slipped once and almost fell flat on his face. But he kept going.
Behind him, that thing screamed again. It sounded like metal scratching itself. Like a demon with a sore throat.
Where am I going?!" he yelled.
> "Forward. Away. Anywhere," Ayanda said inside his head. Unless you'd like to die again. I don't mind. I've done this before."
"You're not helpful!"
> "You're not fast."
---
He jumped over some pipes. Something clanged under his feet. He didn't stop to check. He just kept going. One shoe was already half off, but he didn't have time to fix it.
"Ayanda!" he shouted, still running.
> "You're not very fast," she said inside his head, like it was just a normal conversation.
"Help me!"
> "You're the one who touched the blade. I was minding my business."
He didn't answer. He couldn't. His lungs were busy trying not to explode.
He looked over his shoulder for one second—and that was a mistake.
The creature was there and not even that far behind anymore.
It had no face. Or maybe it did, but it was the kind that made you not want to look twice. Just a glowing red thing where a head should be. Long arms. Skin that looked like old machines and burnt ground. And the way it moved… it was wrong.
Too fast and too quiet.
---
He turned a corner and nearly tripped over a pile of old tech, wires or Metal. He has no idea, he didn't even look to see. He saw a broken hover-core still blinking red in front, grabbed it and threw it behind him.
BOOM.
The thing shrieked. Not in pain, in annoyance.
"That slowed it down," he said, panting.
> "A little," Ayanda said.
"Next time, throw yourself. Might be more useful."
"I hate you."
> "You'll love me soon. They all do."
---
"Why is that thing even chasing me?!" Damaso gasped.
> "Because you're glowing now," Ayanda said.
"Your Mark is like a dinner bell. And that thing hasn't eaten in years."
"Then do something!"
> "You want me to help? Let me in. Stop blocking me."
"Blocking?! I didn't even know you existed yesterday!"
---
The creature screamed again. Damaso ran harder. His legs were pure pain now.
Then—he tripped and his legs gave out.
It was a stupid rock. One small thing. But it was enough. He fell, rolled, and hit the ground hard. His elbow scraped open and dirt got in his mouth.
He groaned and tried to stand but it seems he's got a sprain from the fall.
The creature was right there now. Maybe four steps away. Its breathing sounded like fire choking.
---
It's coming," he whispered.
> "Then stop crawling and get up," Ayanda said.
"I can't."
> "Then let me in."
"In where, you're already in my head"
> "Let me in. Let me reach. You want the blade? Then give in."
Damaso didn't know what she meant. But the thing was raising its arms now, sharp and wrong, and it was going to slice him in half if he didn't—
"FINE!" he yelled.
"Do whatever! Just DO IT!"
---
The Mark on his chest exploded.
A loud BOOM inside his head. His skin lit up in orange patterns. Like fire trying to draw something sacred. Ayanda's laugh echoed like thunder as she appeared behind him.
Flames around her and her body glowing like a god from a forgotten time.
> "Finally... we are not running."
And she smirks.