The cold air of the clearing hit us like a physical weight as we stepped out of the cabin.
I didn't let go of Damien’s hand. He didn't let go of mine. The grip was tight, a silent, locked circuit of skin and bone that seemed to anchor us to the earth while the world around us began to dissolve.
Behind us, the cabin stood silent and empty. The army of mimics was gone. No bodies. No struggle. No retreating footsteps. They had simply ceased to be, like ink drawings erased by a divine hand. The woods were unnaturally quiet. No birdsong, no rustle of wind in the branches, no distant hum of insects. The forest held its breath, waiting for the mountain to finish its transformation.
I didn't look back to see if Marcus, Ace, and Noah were following. I didn't need to. Their hesitant footsteps tol
