The field stretched endlessly ahead of them.
No landmarks.
No roads.
No visible destination.
Just wind moving through tall grass beneath a sky too still to feel entirely natural.
And somewhere out there
fragments.
Waiting.
Rebuilding.
Trying to become something whole again.
Victor let out a long breath as they walked. "You know, I'd really appreciate one nightmare scenario that comes with directions."
The girl almost smiled. "What, 'Turn left at the existential crisis'?"
"Exactly. At least then I'd know where we're going."
Dante kept moving.
His focus fixed ahead.
Because now that he'd felt them, he couldn't unfeel them.
Each fragment gave off a faint pulse small on its own, almost insignificant.
But together
they formed a pattern.
Not random.
Connected.
Camille's voice crackled softly through the air. "I'm tracking residual signatures."
Victor glanced upward. "And?"
"They're moving."
Dante's expression hardened slightly.
"Toward each other?"
A pause.
Then
