My face was splattered with spider pieces. I felt them coat my arms for a heartbeat before they dissolved into dust, leaving me coughing and gagging. A glowing orb of XP drifted lazily toward me. I snatched it, feeling its warmth seep through my skin.
I heard the slashing of a sword again and rolled instinctively from beneath the table, scrambling to my feet, ready to sprint through the gap in the wall.
"What do we have here?" a voice called behind me—young, male, amused.
I froze.
Turning slowly, I saw him standing amidst the wreckage.
He was ragged in the kind of way that demanded respect—like someone who had bled for their survival. When our eyes met, he smiled, but it wasn't warm. It was the kind of smile a cat gives a mouse before the pounce.
"What's a little newbie doing all the way out here?" he said, stepping closer with quiet grace. He stopped three cubes away. I braced to run.
Then he said something that rooted me in place.
He raised his hand, eyes narrowing in concentration, and spoke in a flat monotone I knew too well: "Alis De Aura. Age sixteen. Non-native to this Cradle. Stats level one. Days survived: one. Runner status: Codewright."
I gasped. "You're a Codewright?"
His smug smile deepened. "Of course. Don't look so surprised."
"Are there more of us here? A community maybe?" I asked, foolish hope catching in my voice. "Have you seen a little girl?"
He kept smiling.
"Stop looking at me like that," I snapped.
"To answer your first question: no. Second question?" He tilted his head. "Also no."
I studied him more closely now. He was young—maybe seventeen—but his eyes were old. Tired. Watching everything.
He kicked aside the broken table, revealing an overstuffed inventory belt. He was carrying way more than one person could gather alone.
"You're a Rotcastor," I breathed. "You're supposed to be fixing the world, not tearing it apart!"
He barked a laugh, loud and cruel.
"'Fix the world?'" he echoed in a mockery of my voice. "Fix this?" He gestured to the wreckage. "Oh, the young and naïve..."
I narrowed my eyes, concentrating. "Rebel Ray. Age seventeen. Native to the Cradle. Runner status: Rotcastor... modified?"
I paused at the word.
"'Modified'? That what they call traitors now?" I muttered and started toward the gap.
"You're welcome," he called after me.
I stopped.
"I saved your life. You'd have been spider food without me. If I wanted your loot, I could've just waited and picked your bones clean."
I turned halfway back.
"You see, not all Rotcastors spread rot unless we need something."
There it was.
"I need you, Alis," he said smoothly. "In return for saving your life. Since you've got no currency, I'll settle for a favor or two."
I groaned. "So you're a mercenary."
"Think of it as... job training." His tone darkened. "I need someone to help me track. A while back, a rival clan stole something from my people. We've been searching ever since. I felt you tracing someone—you're good."
"You want me as your personal bounty hunter?" I asked. "Fine. Who am I tracing?"
"Rotcastor. Call sign Hexa Quell. Female. Twenties. Normal runner status." He rattled it off quickly. "I tracked her to this area, but I lost her in the corrupted forest."
"What did she take?"
"Not important," he snapped. "Just find her."
I sat back down, irritated but curious, and closed my eyes. My mind slipped into the layer beneath—the digital tracework embedded in the Cradle. I filtered through the noise, discarded two false matches, and followed a third that began near the house and veered into the forest.
It split—three other strands joining it.
I opened my eyes.
"She's traveling with three others. Unknowns. Still in the forest," I said. "I can show you the way."
His eyebrows rose.
"Impressively fast, for a low-stat runner. Why are you here?"
"I'm looking for someone. A little girl. Codewright like me."
He tilted his head, almost as if he could see into my thoughts.
I stood and pushed past him toward the open air. He followed, quieter now. From his pack, he pulled out an apple and handed it to me.
I took it. The taste was bright and sweet. Energy returned to my limbs.
I slung my multitool over my shoulder. "This way."
He nodded, following. "What'll you do when we find them?"
I tensed. "Depends on who they are. But I'm not killing anyone. That wasn't part of the deal."
"Never asked you to," he replied, voice even. "Just lead the way."