So they stood there—Darek, Votaria, and Iris—right in the middle of the wide, open expanse of the swamp. The black mud clung thickly around their shoes, and the rotten stench hung heavy in the air. About twenty meters away, still on the slightly elevated, solid ground at the edge of the forest, stood the Grotto Salamander—or what one would once have called it. Hardly recognizable as such anymore, it now looked like a deformed primordial version of itself, larger, more massive, denser.

  The monster began to move.

  Slowly.

  Heavily.

  Each step made the boundary between forest and swamp tremble. Earth caved in beneath its weight, roots tore free, and the mud began to vibrate uneasily even before it touched it.

  Aria involuntarily held her breath.

  Iris noticed that the air was changing. Currents were no longer clearly readable. They seemed distorted, slower, as if even the wind were flowing through thicker matter.

  Darek’s gaze narrowed.

  “If only you had a combat ability I could borrow, Iris… or if I had a contract Soulbound with an offensive ability…”

  At the same moment, it struck both of them.

  The same idea.

  Simultaneously.

  But instead of relief, only a bitter feeling rose up—a mixture of regret and sorrow.

  Because in that moment, when even the light of the world had withdrawn, there was simply no room left for joy.

  Why only now?

  Darek quickly gathered energy in the compass. The familiar vibration spread from his hand into his arm, as if something beneath his skin were responding. He closed his eyes for a moment and focused his thoughts.

  “Dream being.”

  Four illusory lines stretched out before him, shimmering red, flickering in the twilight of the solar eclipse.

  Four.

  Darek had hoped for one—maybe two.

  He blinked.

  “Four?” Iris murmured in surprise.

  For a brief, almost inappropriate moment, his thoughts drifted.

  “If I’d at least had one beside me back then in my dream…” Iris muttered half aloud. “Then I wouldn’t have been so alone there. Who knows… maybe I could have even stayed. Started a family. It wasn’t so bad there—if I look at the situations we’ve gotten ourselves into since then…”

  Darek swallowed.

  No time for nostalgia.

  “Dream being with offensive strength… that is interested in a contract.”

  The three lines faded instantly, as if they had never existed. Only one remained. It flickered unstably, blurred, almost reluctant—yet firmly anchored. It led deep into the swamp.

  Not to the monster.

  Darek exhaled quietly.

  “Iris, follow the line. Secure a contract for me. And take Aria with you. I can’t watch over her at the same time here.”

  Votaria wanted to object. It was visible in her eyes. Her pride wanted to stay, to stand beside him. But the sight of the monster, the absence of Ursula, the unnatural light of the eclipse—all of it settled like cold weight upon her chest.

  Fear.

  Real fear.

  “Darek…” she began, but her voice came out quieter than she intended.

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  Iris hesitated as well.

  “You won’t be able to see him with my vision if I’m gone. You realize that, right? If I don’t see him, you don’t see him either.”

  Darek nodded without taking his eyes off the monster.

  “Don’t waste time. I can keep him occupied. Just like you managed to.”

  He tried to appear casual. Calm. Controlled.

  But they felt him.

  The tension.

  The fear.

  The awareness that he was about to stand alone against this thing.

  And that was precisely why they did not argue further.

  Iris turned toward the flickering line.

  Votaria cast Darek one last look.

  Then they shot off—away from the center of the swamp, into the gray twilight of the darkness.

  And Darek remained behind.

  Alone.

  Twenty meters in front of him, the monster took its next step into the mud.

  The swamp began to simmer softly.

  And the darkness grew denser.

  And the last sliver of sun disappeared.

  And with it, more vanished than just light.

  For a moment, absolute silence reigned.

  Not the absence of sound—but the absence of movement.

  The forest seemed frozen. The surface of the swamp stiffened into a dark, reflective skin. Even the lizard’s breathing appeared to slow.

  Darek lifted his gaze to the sky just as the final light vanished.

  “Perfect timing,” he muttered dryly. “As if the world had been waiting for me to end up in an absolute shit situation first.”

  Then the world tilted.

  A cold shudder ran through the landscape, as if someone had laid an invisible layer over everything. The colors finally collapsed, becoming dull shadows of themselves. Contrasts lost their sharpness. Contours flickered as if the fabric of the dream were trembling beneath the weight of this darkness.

  The light had not disappeared.

  It had been swallowed.

  A silvery, unnatural halo glowed around the moon, and that pale, dead light settled over the swamp like a shroud.

  Darek felt it first in his chest.

  Not fear.

  Pressure.

  As if something heavy lay upon the world. His compass vibrated in his hand—not wildly, but deep and steady—as if it had begun responding to a frequency that had not existed before.

  And the lizard—

  The lizard reacted.

  Its skin began to shimmer differently. No longer merely in color. Its armored plates appeared denser, heavier. The shadows between the scales deepened, as if they had gained substance themselves.

  It inhaled.

  Long.

  Deep.

  And with that breath, it seemed to draw in the darkness itself.

  The swamp began to boil.

  Bubbles rose more frantically, bursting with dull sounds. Black slurry spiraled around its legs as if the water were reacting to it.

  The dream flickered again.

  Trees trembled minutely in their outlines. Shadows lagged by a heartbeat. The sky looked as though someone had stretched a barely visible net across it.

  This darkness was no backdrop.

  It was an amplifier.

  And it had chosen a side.

  The lizard slowly raised its head.

  In that false light, it appeared larger than before. Its silhouette swallowed the silvery glow in the sky. Its eyes reflected no light—they seemed to drink it.

  Its presence was no longer merely physical.

  It was oppressive.

  As if the darkness itself had gained mass.

  And he stood in the swamp—with a creature that had only just begun to unfold its full weight.

  Darek swallowed when he saw it. For a moment, his mind went blank, as if someone had pushed his thoughts aside. A quiet, cold helplessness spread through him.

  He laughed—briefly, dryly, almost in disbelief—and ran a hand over his face, as if he could simply wipe the situation away.

  “I actually thought we’d face him here as six,” he muttered hoarsely. “With all our abilities. Use the mud, hear his steps in the darkness, force him to reveal himself…”

  He let his hand fall and looked at himself—alone, knee-deep in the swamp, the air heavy and rotten, the twilight of the eclipse above him like a cold shroud.

  “And now look at me.”

  What stood before him was no longer an animal. No opponent you could outsmart.

  “Here I stand alone. In a swamp full of shit…”

  He lifted his gaze back to the enormous creature.

  “…facing a monster that makes the lizard from my original plan look like a friendly pet.”

  His laughter faded.

  The swamp bubbled softly.

  And the monster took another step toward him.

  Darek sighed quietly.

  “Well then… let’s make the best of it. Maybe I’ll hold up better than I think. And maybe Iris will be back sooner than expected.”

  The attempt at confidence sounded thin even in his own thoughts.

  He looked up.

  The monster was only fifteen meters away now.

  On normal ground, that would have been enough.

  Here, it felt like five.

  The swamp between them was no ground—it was resistance. Dark, viscous mud that closed around his legs with a wet sucking sound at every small movement. The water gleamed dully in the twilight, gas bubbles rising and bursting with muffled pops.

  A faint crackling lingered in the air, as if even space itself were under tension.

  The lizard’s maw opened.

  Slowly.

  Too slowly.

  The scales along its neck tightened, tendons bulged, the massive jaw split apart and revealed a moist, dark cavern. Between rows of thick, backward-curving teeth lay the tongue—broad, muscular, gleaming with saliva.

  “That can’t be that long…”

  The thought died.

  The tongue exploded from its mouth.

  Not like a strike.

  Like a projectile.

  The air cracked as it was displaced. Mud splashed under the pressure of the passing mass. A dark, glistening cord of muscle shot straight toward him.

  “Next time you might want to come a little closer! At this distance you won’t hit anything anyway! I don’t even need Iris’s vision for that! Don’t underestimate me!”

  He shifted his weight and tried to dodge sideways.

  A simple step.

  But the swamp had other plans.

  His right foot sank deeper. The mud closed around his boot like a hand. When he tried to pull free, he only drew a wet sucking sound from the ground. His left foot lost its footing. For a heartbeat, he stood crooked, unstable.

  “So much for that…”

  The tongue was only an arm’s length away now.

  Darek saw it coming—saw every single muscle wave rippling through the glistening flesh, saw the saliva tearing away in strands.

  And then it hit.

  Mlem

  Choap