The night had teeth.
It did not howl or roar. It whispered. Subtle. Patient.
The camp slept, but Asveri did not.
He sat upright on his thin mat, eyes distant as his mind drifted far beyond the boundaries of the shed walls.
His omnipresence had become second nature now — not overwhelming, not chaotic. It was a quiet flow, threading softly through the minds of those nearby.
And tonight… it tasted bitter.
He felt them.
The thin man. His followers.
Their thoughts were tangled and clumsy, but sharp with purpose.
"Now."
"She will be ours."
"Stop him first if you have to."
Asveri's eyes narrowed.
No more hesitations. No more dark fantasies left unsaid.
It was happening.
He turned his head slightly toward Anor'ven, who rested with his eyes closed but clearly awake beneath the surface.
"They're moving," Asveri whispered, voice tight.
Anor'ven opened his eyes slowly, calmly.
"Tonight?"
"Yes. It's starting."
Anor'ven stood with the ease of a predator rising from stillness.
No panic, no urgency — just readiness.
He adjusted his ragged tunic and nodded once.
"Show me," he said quietly.
The night outside was cool, carrying with it the faint hum of distant machines.
In the heart of the camp, near the communal firepit, the predators gathered.
Mira and Oren were sitting quietly together, sharing whispered words and pieces of stale bread.
The world felt small and warm in their corner — unaware of the storm about to break.
The Thin Man approached first, eyes gleaming in the firelight.
"What do you want?" Oren asked cautiously.
"Talk. Just talk."
But it shattered quickly.
The Thin Man shoved Oren hard.
He stumbled back, Mira gasping.
Another grabbed Mira, pulling her toward them.
Chaos erupted.
Oren fought but was struck down brutally.
Anor'ven and Asveri arrived as Mira screamed.
"Enough," Anor'ven said simply.
They ignored him and attacked.
Anor'ven took several hits.
His head snapped, ribs cracked.
He staggered but did not fall.
When he moved — everything changed.
He crushed the Thin Man's wrist, drove his knee into his face.
Blood exploded.
The others hesitated.
Too slow.
Anor'ven struck the first into the dirt, unconscious, and dropped the second with brutal efficiency.
Silence.
Asveri stared, whispering, "…terrifying."
Guards arrived.
They struck without mercy.
Everyone was shackled and dragged to face the Master.
Morning brought judgment.
The Master ordered the Thin Man and his men executed without hesitation.
Then, his eyes fell on Anor'ven and Asveri.
"You two… different."
He smirked.
"Useful. You will serve directly at my estate."
No kindness.
No freedom.
Just new chains.
As they were dragged away, Asveri muttered, "Promotion?"
Anor'ven did not smile.
"Chains," he murmured. "They just change form."
And thus, they left the fields — toward new servitude.