A low, guttural growl rippled through the air.
Hope's eyes snapped open.
His breath hitched.
His senses flared.
For a moment, he lay still—listening.
The sound had been close.
Too close.
His heart pounded against his ribs.
His fingers instinctively searched for a weapon—
But of course.
He had nothing.
No blade.
No armor.
He was completely exposed.
"Damn it..."
He cursed under his breath, forcing himself to think.
Where had the sound come from?
His gaze swept across the ruins, but the dim lighting made it impossible to pinpoint the source.
Then, slowly—
The realization set in.
The temperature had dropped drastically.
Earlier, the wasteland had been an unforgiving furnace, the heat searing his skin like an open flame.
But now?
The air was biting cold.
A stark contrast.
That wasn't the only change.
Hope lifted his head slightly, and for the first time, he noticed something strange in the sky.
A moon.
Or what was left of one.
It was pale and cracked, like a shattered relic barely holding itself together.
Fragments of its surface drifted slowly around it, suspended in the void.
Hope let out a slow breath.
"At least there aren't eight moons this time..."
The thought barely had time to settle before—
The growl returned.
This time—
It was closer.
Much closer.
A heavy silence followed.
Then—
Without warning—
The entire wall beside him exploded.
The force of the impact slammed into his body, sending him hurtling forward.
Dust.
Debris.
The sound of crumbling stone.
Hope hit the ground hard, his skin scraping against the rough surface as he rolled.
His ears rang.
His vision spun.
For a split second, he struggled to regain his bearings—
Then, his eyes snapped to the creature.
Glowing red eyes.
That was all he could see.
Two piercing orbs of crimson light, burning like embers in the darkness.
The rest of its form was shrouded in shadow.
Hope's breath came fast and shallow.
He couldn't see it properly.
Couldn't tell what it was.
Only that it was massive.
And that it was hunting him.
"Damnit."
Hope didn't wait for a better look.
He turned and ran.
Madly.
Wildly.
The cold wind whipped against his bare skin as his feet pounded against the cracked earth.
His lower man swayed freely, but dignity was the least of his concerns.
Behind him—
The creature lunged.
Its speed was terrifying—far faster than it had any right to be.
Hope gritted his teeth.
There was no way he could outrun it like this.
He needed a plan.
Anything.
Then—
His surroundings shifted.
The terrain that had once been a flat wasteland had changed.
The ground became uneven.
Mountains loomed in the distance.
Caverns yawned open like gaping maws.
Towering sculptures—**stone monoliths of unknown origin—**stood in eerie silence.
Hope's eyes narrowed.
A spark of cunning lit up in his mind.
He smiled.
A plan was already forming.