Chapter 55: Unlikely Allies
In the cave, the fire had burned lower while they spoke, casting longer shadows across the stone walls. Petra found herself studying Gareth’s methodical note-taking, still trying to reconcile this calculating strategist with the quiet boy she’d demolished in their Academy duel.
"Your roommate," she said, breaking the silence. "Kael Ashford. What did you make of him?"
Gareth’s pen paused. "Interesting choice of topic."
"He was supposed to be my next opponent. SS-rank fire manipulation seemed worth testing against my abilities."
"Kael..." Gareth set down his pen, considering his words carefully. "He’s not what he appears to be. I shared a room with him for weeks, watched his routines, his habits. There’s something deliberate about how unremarkable he tries to seem."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning someone doesn’t develop that level of situational awareness without training. The way he positioned himself in rooms, how he catalogued exits, the fact that he never seemed surprised by anything." Gareth’s analytical tone made it sound like a research observation.
The implications settled over her like cold water. Another hidden predator at the Academy, wearing the mask of an undertrained noble’s son.
"Do you think he’s alive?" she asked.
"If anyone from our class survives this place, it’ll be him," Gareth said with certainty. "He has the right mindset for it."
Petra stared into the fire, processing this information. The Academy had been full of deceptions, apparently. Students hiding their true capabilities behind carefully constructed facades.
"This rift," she said, changing topics. "Normal rifts have boundaries, don’t they? Places where the dimensional space ends?"
Gareth opened a different notebook, one filled with rough maps and territorial markings. "I’ve been tracking movement patterns, trying to understand the geography. There’s definitely structure here, but..." He pointed to markings on his crude map. "I haven’t found the edges yet. Every direction I’ve sent scouts, they report more of the same battlefield extending beyond the horizon."
"Scouts?" Petra’s eyes sharpened.
"Clones," he clarified matter-of-factly. They’ve been mapping territorial boundaries, tracking resource locations, monitoring threat patterns." He traced routes on his map. "But no matter how far they travel, it’s just more corpses and more predators."
Petra felt ice in her veins. "So we’re not just trapped in this battlefield. We’re trapped in an endless one."
"Not endless. But vast enough that conventional escape isn’t viable." His expression grew thoughtful. "Though I did find something interesting. Energy fluctuations at what should be dimensional weak points. Places where the rift space seems... unstable."
"That sounds incredibly dangerous. We have no idea what instability means in a place like this."
"Could mean collapse. Could mean transportation to another section. Could mean exit." Gareth’s tone remained clinical. "But it’s the only potential escape route I’ve identified so far."
Petra considered this. Traditional rift theory suggested multiple dimensional pockets, different environments connected through unstable passages. "What would it take to investigate these fluctuations?"
"More observation. More data. And probably abilities beyond what either of us can provide alone." He gestured to his notes. "I’ve been documenting patterns, but I need more than just earth manipulation and stealth tactics."
"You mean find the other survivors."
"Professor Leo’s group, specifically. His combat experience combined with student abilities we haven’t catalogued yet..." Gareth paused, clearly working through tactical calculations. "The risk of revealing ourselves to a larger group is significant, but the potential benefits might outweigh it."
Petra gripped her katana’s hilt, considering the implications. "You’re talking about abandoning stealth for direct cooperation."
"I’m talking about accepting that some objectives require resources beyond what either of us can provide alone." His tone carried the weight of someone making difficult strategic decisions. "Testing dimensional instabilities will be dangerous enough with proper support. Attempting it with just two people would be suicide."****
The approaching figures materialized through the perpetual gloom like ghosts given form. Leo caught the familiar silhouette first—Professor Harold’s distinctive stride, unchanged even in this hellscape. Behind him, a small cluster of students moved in tight formation.
"Harold," Leo breathed, relief flooding through him so powerfully it made his knees weak.
"Professor Leo," Harold called softly as his group approached. "Thank the Architects. How many survived with you?"
"Thirty-two," Leo replied, his combat instructor’s eye automatically cataloging Harold’s group. Ten students, all looking exhausted but functional. Better organized than his own desperate band. "You?"
"Ten now," Harold said, his voice carrying the weight of losses they’d all experienced. "We started with fifteen."
Leo’s gaze swept Harold’s group, and his breath caught as he recognized several faces. Thomas Reed from the, looking leaner but alert. Damien, his Academy robes torn but moving with quiet confidence. And there, walking slightly apart from the others...
"Sarah Millbrook," Leo said, unable to keep surprise from his voice.
Several of Leo’s students reacted immediately to the name. David Harwick, who had challenged her in the Academy courtyard, stepped forward with obvious tension.
"That’s her," David muttered to his companions. "The time girl. The one who nearly killed Veilmont."
Lyanna Brennan, still maintaining her noble bearing despite their circumstances, studied Sarah with calculating eyes.
Sarah said nothing, her pale eyes meeting their stares without flinching. She looked different—not just from the battlefield’s wear, but something in her posture. Less defensive, more contained. The terrified girl from the Academy courtyard was gone.
"Sarah’s been invaluable for our group’s survival," Harold said diplomatically, stepping slightly forward to defuse the tension. "Her abilities have kept us ahead of the larger predators."
"Her abilities," David repeated, his voice carrying skeptical wariness. "You mean the ones she couldn’t control? That nearly murdered another student?"
"David," Leo warned, his instructor’s authority cutting through the growing hostility. "We’re all Academy survivors here."
But Damien from Harold’s group had moved closer to Sarah’s position—not protectively, exactly, but supportively. The subtle shift in positioning told Leo everything about how Harold’s group had adapted their social dynamics.
"Thomas," Leo addressed one of Harold’s students directly. "How did you find us? This battlefield stretches for miles."
Thomas Reed glanced at Harold before responding. "Elena spotted movement from the ridge. Her sensory enhancement picked up your group’s essence signatures from almost a mile away."
A girl Leo didn’t immediately recognize stepped forward. "Elena Voss," she said simply. "B-rank enhanced perception. I can track awakened essence at distance, identify threat levels."
That made sense. Leo studied Elena more carefully—average height, unremarkable features, but her eyes moved constantly, tracking details others would miss. A reconnaissance specialist.
"We weren’t looking for you specifically," Harold continued. "We’ve been moving south, away from something that’s been driving all the A-class predators in this direction."
"We felt it too," Leo said grimly. "Something big enough to scare creatures that should be apex predators themselves."
Elena’s head turned sharply north, her enhanced senses focusing on something the others couldn’t detect. "It’s closer now. Maybe two miles. And there’s something else..." She paused, concentration evident on her face. "Multiple groups moving. Coordinated."
"Other survivors?" Leo asked hopefully.
"Unknown," Elena replied. "But they’re not running from the big threat. They’re moving with it."
Leo felt ice settle in his stomach. Coordinated movement alongside whatever was driving the predators suggested intelligence, organization. Not random survival groups, but something else entirely.
"How defensible is your current position?" Harold asked, glancing around at the endless expanse of corpses.
"Not very," Leo admitted. "We’ve been moving constantly, staying ahead of hunting packs. What about you?"
"We found cave systems beneath some of the larger carcass piles," Thomas replied. "Natural formations, multiple entrances. Defensible."
Sarah spoke for the first time since the reunion began. "We should move. Now."
Her voice carried quiet certainty, and Leo noticed how Harold’s group responded immediately. Not from fear of her abilities, but from learned trust in her judgment. Whatever had happened during their three days together, Sarah had earned their respect.
David Harwick wasn’t impressed. "Move because she says so? Last I saw, she couldn’t even control herself long enough to—"
"David." Leo’s voice carried command authority. "Enough."
But Sarah stepped forward, meeting David’s hostile gaze directly. When she spoke, her voice was calm, controlled. "You challenged me once. which i declined, your ranking doesn’t matter here. What matters is that something large enough to drive A-class predators is heading this way, and we need shelter."
The casual dismissal of their Academy confrontation—"your ranking doesn’t matter here"—hit harder than any angry response would have. Sarah wasn’t defending herself or making threats. She was simply stating facts.
Lyanna studied this exchange with obvious fascination. "You’re different," she observed.
"We all are," Sarah replied simply.
Elena’s enhanced perception suddenly focused north, her expression growing alarmed. "Professor Harold, the coordinated groups just changed direction. They’re heading straight for our direction."
"How many?" Harold asked.
"At least three separate formations. Maybe forty individuals total." Elena’s voice carried growing urgency. "They’re not survivors, Professor. They’re hunting."
Leo felt command decisions crystallizing. "Harold, how far to your caves?"
"Fifteen minutes if we move fast."
"Everyone up," Leo ordered his exhausted group. "Combat formation, but prioritize speed. We’re moving to Professor Harold’s position."
As both groups began organizing for rapid movement, Leo caught sight of something that made his tactical instincts scream warnings. Sarah had moved to the edge of their formation, her attention focused not on their escape route but on the approaching threats.
For just a moment, her expression held something that reminded him disturbingly of how Petra Blackthorne had looked before destroying opponents. Not fear or desperation, but calculation. Assessment.
"Sarah," Harold called quietly. "We’re moving."
She turned back to the group, that calculating look vanishing behind practiced control. "Of course, Professor."
But as they began their desperate flight across the corpse-strewn battlefield, Leo couldn’t shake the feeling that while they were running from their hunters, Sarah was thinking about hunting them back.
The girl who had lost control in the Academy courtyard was gone. What had taken her place might be far more dangerous—to their enemies, and potentially to themselves.