The tension in the shelter was thick enough to choke on.

  Despite the fact that this underground station was one of the newest in the city—its walls still bright white, gleaming faintly under the flickering fluorescent lights—there was a heaviness here that no brightness could banish. The stark whiteness seemed stained, not by dirt or grime, but by the darkness seeping from the people crammed inside.

  Nox's eyes traced the chipped tiles, the occasional scratch on the metal railings, but what weighed on him most was the oppressive atmosphere. The air was stale, heavy with fear and frustration, the mingled scents of sweat and uncertainty hanging like a shroud. Over thirty people packed into this small space, their faces drawn and eyes darting like hunted animals. Whispers ricocheted off the walls — whispers thick with suspicion, greed, and desperation.

  After Nox had been carried inside, unconscious, his two camper backpacks of supplies quickly became a magnet for whispered envy and doubt. The pack was no ordinary survival kit—it was bulging with food, medical supplies, tools, and other essentials that could mean the difference between life and death.

  “Why should one man have so much?” someone whispered bitterly from a shadowed corner.

  “What if he’s hiding something else?” another hissed, the venom clear in their voice.

  Luke, Mike, and Nataly had worked tirelessly to calm the growing unrest, reminding the shelter’s inhabitants that survival depended on cooperation, not division. For now, their efforts seemed to hold, but Luke knew the fragile peace could shatter at any moment. The weight of fear was a powder keg waiting for a spark.

  That evening, when most had finally succumbed to exhaustion and sleep, Luke found Nox sitting alone against a cracked concrete wall near the edge of the platform. The harsh fluorescent lights overhead flickered unevenly, casting harsh shadows that danced like ghosts in the silence.

  Nox stared into the dark tunnels stretching away from the faint shelter lights, as if expecting something to crawl out from the blackness.

  “You don’t make it easy,” Luke said quietly, lowering himself to sit beside him.

  Nox didn’t look away. “I’m not here to make friends.”

  Luke studied him carefully. There was a hardness in Nox’s eyes — the kind of cold focus forged through years of hardship. “People were suspicious of your supplies.”

  Nox shrugged, voice flat. “If they want to fight over a few cans, let them.”

  Luke shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. You have something else on your mind.”

  The corners of Nox’s mouth twitched, almost a ghost of a smile, before his eyes darkened. “Do you remember what I told you about those creatures?”

  Luke nodded slowly. His mind drifted to the many monsters they had encountered so far. Not just the ant-eater creature they had seen recently, but others — some terrifyingly aggressive, others almost pitiful in their innocence.

  There was the wailing shadow that had haunted the old subway tunnels, a creature born of despair, its hollow cries scraping at the edges of sanity. The beast with glassy eyes that appeared near the collapsed overpass, drawn to anger and rage, its jagged limbs tearing through concrete and steel. But there was also the small, flickering will-o’-the-wisp that followed them sometimes during the night — a timid thing, born from loneliness, almost harmless but heart-wrenching in its fragility.

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  “All of them are born from emotions,” Luke said quietly, “fear, anger, pain... things we try to lock away.”

  “Good,” Nox said. “Now, look around.”

  Luke’s gaze swept over the platform — the cramped space filled with tired faces and restless bodies. The station’s walls gleamed sterile and clean, but the people inside seemed to carry shadows that no amount of white paint could cover. Whispers and half-formed accusations swirled through the air. The thin veneer of order barely masked a roiling storm of fear and suspicion.

  “How long before something forms here?” Nox asked, his voice low.

  Luke swallowed hard. “You mean one of those monsters?”

  Nox nodded grimly. “Could be years. Could be days. Every scream, every fight, every nightmare feeding them.”

  Luke’s heart pounded. “We have to warn them. Get them to spread out. To run.”

  Nox shook his head. “Who’d believe us? It’s just a story, a warning with no proof. How many would risk their lives on that?”

  Luke clenched his fists, jaw tight. “But if we do nothing...”

  “Then we die,” Nox said flatly.

  A heavy silence fell between them, broken only by the distant echo of footsteps and the occasional murmur of the restless.

  Luke’s mind flicked back again to those monsters — creatures born from the darkest parts of human emotion. Each encounter had left its mark on him, a reminder that the real enemy was not just the monsters themselves, but what brewed inside every person’s heart.

  “Where are you going?” Luke asked at last.

  “My apartment,” Nox answered. “There’s something I need.”

  Without hesitation, Luke stood. “I’m coming.”

  Nox gave a brief nod — acceptance, nothing more.

  “Be ready at dawn.”

  The next morning dawned cold and gray. Outside, the city lay under a thick blanket of ash and dust. The sky was a dull, choking ceiling, thick with swirling ash clouds that blotted out the sun. No wind stirred. No birds sang. No signs of life moved through the heavy stillness.

  Inside the underground station, the cold concrete floor pressed through Luke’s thin shoes. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, cold and clinical, casting a harsh glow that only amplified the coldness settling deep in his bones.

  Nox was already ready when Luke arrived in the hallway — heavy pack on his back, another at his feet. Eyes sharp and watchful. He nodded to the second backpack and Luke took it with no hesitation. There was a quiet determination about him that made Luke feel both hopeful and apprehensive.

  Mike and his cousin arrived shortly after, their faces set with grim resolve.

  “Heard your conversation,” Mike said quietly. “We’re coming.”

  Nataly appeared moments later, her sister close behind.

  “We can’t just wait here,” Nataly said softly. “At least warn the others.”

  Nox’s eyes swept over them all. “Do as you wish. I’ll wait here for an hour.”

  Nataly and Mike nodded, hurrying back toward the shelter to spread the warning.

  Luke sank down on the cold concrete floor, the weight of doubt pressing hard. He remembered all the monsters they’d faced so far, the pain they had caused — and how much worse things could become if this new warning went unheeded.

  When Nataly and Mike returned, their faces were tight with frustration and disappointment. Nox said nothing; he didn’t know what to say to lift their spirits.

  “Then let’s move,” he said finally, voice steady.

  The group pushed open the heavy station doors and stepped into the ash-choked air. Above, the sky stretched like a leaden lid, heavy with ash and swirling clouds.

  No wind. No life. Only silence.

  Nox tilted his head back, eyes narrowing as he stared upward.

  His voice was quiet but sharp, slicing through the stillness.

  “Are you planning to come down any time soon?”

  For a moment, nothing.

  Then the clouds above stirred violently, parting to reveal a massive black shape hurtling toward them.

  The Mantis landed silently before the group — huge, alien, its razor-like limbs folded neatly, eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.

  The others froze, fear rooting them to the spot.

  Only Nox stood firm, meeting the creature’s gaze without flinching.

  The Mantis tilted its head as if curious — not hostile.