Chapter 50: Closing the rift
Petra’s katana remained steady in her grip, though her mind reeled from the implications of Gareth’s casual dismissal. The boy she’d demolished in front of the entire Academy sat calmly making notes, as if three A-Class predators were nothing more than interesting specimens for his research.
"You’re not going to tell me." She could read the calculation in his eyes, the same methodical assessment she’d seen him apply to everything at the Academy. "Just like you didn’t tell anyone about your real capabilities."
"Would you?" Gareth asked mildly, not looking up from his notebook. "If you possessed abilities that could fundamentally shift power balances, would you advertise them to potential enemies?"
The logic was sound, but it made her skin crawl. How many other students at the Academy were hiding their true capabilities? How many quiet, unremarkable faces concealed predators wearing sheep’s clothing?
"The monster cores," she said, pointing at the organized piles around the cave. "How many creatures have you killed?"
"Forty-seven since arrival," Gareth replied. "Ranging from D-Class scavengers to the A-Class Maulers you encountered. Each engagement provided valuable data about dimensional beast behavior and combat effectiveness."
’Forty-seven.’ The number hit her like a physical blow. She’d struggled desperately against three Crimson Maulers and barely escaped alive. Meanwhile, Gareth had been systematically hunting through this nightmare landscape like it was some kind of field research expedition.
"You’ve been keeping count." Her voice sounded hollow even to her own ears.
"Documentation is crucial for understanding patterns," he said, finally looking up from his writing. "Beast territorial ranges, hunting behaviors, pack coordination strategies. The information will be invaluable when we return to our dimension."
’When we return.’ The casual certainty in his voice suggested he knew something she didn’t about their situation.
"You think we can get back?" Hope crept into her voice despite her wariness.
Gareth’s expression grew thoughtful, and for the first time since entering the cave, she caught a glimpse of something approaching genuine emotion. "I’ve been trying to understand how we got here. The energy signature when we arrived... it wasn’t like the rift theory they taught us at the Academy."
"You mean this wasn’t a normal dimensional tear?"
"Normal rifts take seven days to become active after manifestation," he said, closing his notebook with deliberate care. "But we were pulled through immediately. That shouldn’t be possible according to everything I’ve studied."
The implication sent ice through her veins. "So what does that mean?"
"Either our understanding of rift mechanics is fundamentally flawed, or something forced this to happen unnaturally." Gareth’s analytical tone made the horror sound like a research problem. "The question is whether this place follows normal rift rules for closure."
Petra felt the cave walls press closer around her. "What do you mean?"
"In normal rifts, there’s an Apex beast anchoring the dimensional tear," Gareth said, standing with fluid grace. "Kill the Apex, the rift closes. But if this isn’t a normal rift..." He trailed off, uncertainty creeping into his voice for the first time.
He moved to one of his organized equipment caches and withdrew what looked like a crude but functional weapon. A sledge hammer crafted from beast bone and metal salvaged from the battlefield. The workmanship was impressive, showing skills she hadn’t known he possessed.
"If this is a trial," she said carefully, "then someone is watching. Evaluating our performance."
"Almost certainly." Gareth tested the weapon’s balance with practiced movements. "The question becomes: what constitutes success? Simple survival? Demonstrating specific capabilities? Or something else entirely?"
The casual way he spoke about being observed, about their suffering being entertainment for unknown entities, made her stomach turn. But worse was the realization that his analysis was probably accurate. The systematic nature of the challenges they’d faced, the way beasts seemed to escalate in power and intelligence, suggested deliberate design rather than random occurrence.
"What about the others?" she asked. "The professors, the other students. Have you seen anyone else?"
Gareth’s expression grew more somber. "I’ve heard voices in the distance. Groups moving through the battlefield. But I haven’t made contact."
"Why not?" The question came out sharper than intended.
"Because I don’t know who survived or what state they’re in," he said quietly. "Three days in this place... people change. Some break down, others turn predatory. Making contact could be more dangerous than staying hidden."
The logic was sound but chilling. How many Academy students had she known well enough to trust with her life? How many would she recognize after three days of horror and desperation?
"But if there are survivors, we should try to—"
"Should we?" Gareth interrupted, and something in his tone made her pause. "Think tactically, Petra. We’re both alive because we’ve been careful. The moment we reveal ourselves to others, we become targets for their desperation, their resources, their poor decisions."
"Then what’s our option?" The words came out sharper than intended. "We’re trapped in a dimension filled with creatures that want to kill us. What choice do we have but to work together?"
"If this is a normal rift," Gareth said, moving back to his equipment cache, "then there should be an Apex beast somewhere. Something powerful enough to anchor the dimensional tear that brought us here."
Petra felt a flutter of hope. "You mean if we could find and kill this Apex..."
"The rift would close, theoretically sending us back to our dimension." Gareth’s tone was cautious. "But that’s assuming this follows normal rift mechanics. And everything about how we got here suggests it doesn’t."
"It’s still our best lead," she said, mind racing through possibilities. "Better than waiting around hoping someone rescues us."
"Maybe." Gareth looked thoughtful. "But an Apex beast powerful enough to anchor a rift that consumed eight hundred people... it would be beyond anything either of us has faced."
The implications of those words settled over her like a shroud. Gareth wasn’t just surviving in this nightmare place. He was planning something. Something that required the kind of power he’d been hiding, and the kind of strategic thinking he’d been demonstrating since arrival.
"What are you really?" she whispered.
"The same thing you are," he replied, moving back to his makeshift desk. "Someone who refuses to be a victim."
But as he returned to his methodical note-taking, Petra realized that comparison was deeply flawed. She’d been trying to survive, to endure until rescue or escape became possible. Gareth had been studying, planning, preparing for something far more ambitious.
The cave fell silent except for crackling fire and the scratch of pen on paper. Outside, scavengers moved through the battlefield, and somewhere in the distance, Professor Leo’s group was being driven toward their orchestrated doom.
And in this cave, surrounded by evidence of systematic predation, two of the Academy’s most dangerous students were learning that their greatest enemy might not be the beasts or the dimensional rift or even their unknown captors.
"Gareth," she said finally, her voice carrying all the authority of someone who’d never accepted anything less than complete honesty, "if we’re going to survive this place, I need to know what your second ability actually is."
He paused in his writing, pen hovering over the page. When he looked up, his expression held the same analytical detachment he’d shown when discussing beast elimination counts.
"Are you prepared for that answer?" he asked quietly. "Because once you know, there won’t be any going back to how things were between us."
The warning sent ice through her veins, but Petra had built her reputation on never backing down from dangerous knowledge. She nodded once, sharp and decisive.
Gareth closed his notebook and stood, moving with that same fluid confidence that seemed so at odds with his Academy persona. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of someone revealing a truth that would change everything.
"Clone Creation," he said simply. "S-rank. I can create perfect duplicates of myself, each one possessing my full capabilities and operating with complete tactical coordination."
The words hit her like a physical blow. She stared at the boy she’d thought she understood, mind struggling to process the implications. S-rank Clone Creation meant multiple versions of Gareth, each one capable of independent action while sharing knowledge and experience.
"How many?" The question came out as barely a whisper.
Gareth’s smile was cold and precise. "How many do you think it would take to eliminate forty-seven dimensional beasts without taking a single injury?"
The cave suddenly felt very, very small around her.*****
Petra’s stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, breaking the tense silence with an embarrassingly mundane sound. The noise echoed off the cave walls, undermining her attempt at maintaining dignity in the face of Gareth’s revelation.
"Still hungry?" Gareth asked, glancing up from his notebook with what might have been amusement. "That meat you had earlier was from a C-Class Thornback. Decent protein, but the dimensional beasts here don’t carry much fat. Burns through your system faster than normal food."
Petra’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. Even her basic bodily needs were betraying her composure. "I didn’t realize..."
"Most people don’t understand dimensional biology," he said matter-of-factly, returning to his writing. "Beast meat provides energy, but not the same nutritional density as livestock from our dimension. You’ll need to eat more frequently to maintain your strength."
The casual way he discussed survival mechanics while simultaneously revealing his terrifying abilities made her head spin. Here was someone concerned about her dietary needs who’d just admitted to systematically eliminating forty-seven creatures with multiple versions of himself.
"So while I was desperately rationing what little I had," she said, "you’ve been conducting a sustainable hunting operation with your... clones."
"Three active at any given time usually provides optimal resource gathering," Gareth confirmed. "One for hunting, one for processing materials, one for reconnaissance and threat assessment."
The methodical efficiency of it made her feel foolish for her desperate scrambling through the battlefield. While she’d been barely surviving, he’d been thriving through superior tactics and hidden capabilities.
"And the Academy duel was just theater," she continued, mind still processing the implications.
"Performance art, really," he agreed. "Though I did learn valuable information about your combat patterns and psychological responses under pressure. Very useful data for future reference."
The casual admission that he’d been studying her like a specimen made her grip tighten on her katana’s hilt. But the weapon that had made her the Academy’s apex predator suddenly felt inadequate against someone who could coordinate attacks with perfect copies of himself.