The icy cold pierced everyone to the bone.


    In just a couple of days, they had grown accustomed to the warm air of the cave, but now they were once again at the mercy of the frost, as if death itself were breathing down their necks.


    Thirteen people cautiously moved forward, using their last strength to make sure no one was chasing them.


    Many of them still couldn''t comprehend what exactly had happened to that monster.


    They had seen it. They knew it was something different. But they didn’t understand the full picture.


    Even Vale, Ars, and Lark didn’t know the truth.


    Naomi and Gloomer had hidden it.


    Gloomer was sure that no one would ever find out the truth. No one even suspected that he could change the taste and smell of things.


    He had first tested this ability on himself when he was once again chewing on a vile, tough bread that resembled compressed dust more than food. He had tried to make it taste delicious, to give it the aroma of freshly baked goods, the rich savor of meat, or the delicate sweetness of fruit. The illusion worked, but not in the way he had expected.


    Gloomer could taste it, but his body was not fooled. His jaws still chewed on the dry mass, the swallowed piece gave no nourishment, and the emptiness inside remained. His subconscious knew it was a lie, and even though he tried to convince himself otherwise, his body stubbornly resisted.


    That was when he decided that his ability was practically useless.


    But then he encountered the magical creatures that lived in the depths of the cave. They devoured ore greedily, needing it as much as they needed air. And that was when Gloomer got an idea.


    He changed the taste of their food, turning it into something disgusting, rotten, and repulsive. But that wasn’t enough. So he went further—he changed the smell. Now the ore reeked as if it had been soaking in rotting flesh for years.


    The effect was staggering. The creatures grimaced, recoiled from the ore, and refused to eat. They couldn''t consume something that had suddenly become repulsive filth to them.


    That was the last piece of the puzzle.


    When the creatures that fed on ore suddenly turned away from it in disgust, they gradually began to go mad. They rushed about searching for food, bumped into one another, made irritated sounds, and then finally started attacking their own kind, forcing the others to defend themselves. In just a few hours, it escalated into a full-blown riot.


    The master of the cave—the one who controlled everything and everyone—was forced to intervene. He couldn’t let the chaos grow, couldn’t just watch as the magical creatures, on which the mining depended, went insane. All his attention was fixed on the disorder. And to deal with the escapees, he sent only one Dony.


    And that was when Gloomer struck the final blow.


    He altered the scent of the monster that burst into the cave. It didn’t even glance in their direction—its keen nose caught an irresistible aroma wafting from the depths. Without hesitation, the beast dashed toward it, consumed by a ravenous instinct.


    The plan worked.


    Gloomer stood and watched. He went over the details in his mind again, checking if he had missed anything.


    But it no longer mattered.


    Henry was the first to drop to one knee, trying to find something familiar in the surrounding chaos.


    He looked around, hoping to determine their location by the remaining landmarks, but everything looked different.


    Gloomer also peered into the horizon but realized that knowing the island by heart meant nothing now.


    Wind, thunder, tsunami—the island was no longer the place he remembered.


    The elements had torn away chunks of land, flooded valleys, shattered beaches, and made his homeland foreign.


    Everything around them hinted at it.


    —Hope the monster doesn’t appear by accident… — Gloomer muttered, just before Damon’s voice shattered the silence:


    —This island is slowly sinking. We need to reach the nearest island immediately.


    Henry turned his head and frowned at him:


    —You mean Golieth? The second colonial island of the Green Reef?


    But Damon immediately shook his head.


    —No. Even if we wanted to get there, it’s impossible.


    —Why?


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    —It’s simple. When the Dark Island appears near any other island, it starts drawing energy from it, as if feeding off it.


    —And so what? — Henry scowled.


    —So, Golieth has long since moved away from us to avoid being affected. And that applies to all the other nearby islands. They move farther away, farther from destruction.


    —So what are you getting at? — his voice was already filled with irritation.


    Damon paused for a moment and then said something that made everyone freeze:


    —The king is sending his best warriors to the Dark Island. They want to seize one of its main sources of power—a sacred artifact. This island emerges once every five years, and they can’t miss their chance.


    A deathly silence fell.


    Henry got the hint.


    —Can anyone confirm your words? — he asked, narrowing his eyes. — This sounds… too… unreal.


    No one answered.


    But Damon continued:


    —It doesn’t matter. You know yourself that the king couldn’t send his warriors earlier. The Dark Island wouldn’t let them in. First, they need to deal with it.


    —And if he failed… — Henry slowly exhaled, realizing. — This island would have sunk, and we’d have died in the mine.


    —Exactly. But if he succeeds, his warriors will be there. And they could lead us to a safe place.


    That was when everything fell into place.


    The people, who had been confused until now, finally understood what these two were talking about.


    Damon was hinting that they needed to go to the Dark Island.


    That cursed place, full of monsters.


    But here, where they were now, wasn’t much better.


    Water was everywhere. The wind was tearing down the last surviving trees. The ocean was gnawing away at the land. Death was squeezing the island in its icy grip.


    —You’re right… — Henry exhaled. — But the chances of meeting them are negligible. And considering our luck… — he looked at the sky.


    They stopped.


    Not knowing what to do.


    Morning had already come, but the sun was nowhere to be seen. Only dark, heavy clouds, looming like the vault of a tomb. Hunger. Cold. Uncertainty. Everything bound them, keeping them from making the next step.


    Gloomer looked intently at Vale.


    —You’ve been awfully pessimistic these last few days.


    Vale smirked and shrugged:


    —Just don’t know what’s worse. Our old wretched life… or what we have now.


    —Why bother thinking about it? — Gloomer grinned. — If we die, better with a smile than with that gloomy face.


    —Oh, don’t exaggerate, — Vale chuckled. — I’m not that tense. It’s just… this whole situation is unusual. And you act like you’re used to it.


    Gloomer smiled, remembering.


    —You always said that to me. Every time I did something reckless. Remember when we stole cherries? I climbed over the fence even when we almost got caught. Or when I fought against five guys, and they nearly tore my head off. It was hell, but now I remember it with a smile.


    Vale snorted:


    —Well… if you don’t die, I’ll say it again.


    Gloomer laughed.


    Then he looked at Ars and Lark.


    They were both exhausted by the circumstances.


    They had grown up with Gloomer, but their bodies were less adapted.


    After all… they were just children.


    They didn’t sit there for long.


    After an hour and a half of arguments and deliberations, everyone unanimously agreed—there was no choice but to head for the Dark Island.


    The direction was obvious: west, to the place where the boats were kept. These boats were made from the sturdiest trees, capable of withstanding even the most brutal storms. They hoped they had survived.


    In theory, they could swim across—the Dark Island was terrifyingly close. It blocked the horizon, covering the entire west and south like a colossal shadow. But no one would dare to do that. The water hid too many unknowns, and the eerie silence enveloping the bay only deepened the fear.


    Naomi, walking beside him, suddenly broke the silence:


    — Glo, where do you think all the bone skeletons and monsters went?


    Gloomer answered without hesitation:


    — I’d like to know that myself. I think that Damon could answer your question.


    At the thought of Damon, he felt a strange relief. He had survived—and that was damn important. Even if they managed to reach a safe island, what then? Who would they turn to? What would they do?


    But Damon… he knew. He understood this world better than they did. And that was why they needed him.


    The journey took only an hour, but fear distorted the sense of time.


    As they approached the place where the boats were stored, everyone immediately felt the presence of the Dark Island.


    The fog, like a living entity, swirled at the water’s edge, obscuring the horizon. Through it came unsettling sounds—inhuman, distorted, as if thousands of voices whispered of doom.


    The closer they got, the more these sounds burrowed into their minds, pressing on their psyche. Even the most steadfast found their fingers trembling. Gloomer glanced briefly at Ars—last time, he had lost control. But now, he was holding himself together, albeit with effort.


    The air thickened, turning into a viscous substance. The fog grew denser, blinding them, while gusts of wind, soaked in dampness and decay, seemed to push them back.


    Through the haze, they saw ancient stone structures. The houses, on the verge of collapse, were the last reminder of those who had once lived here.


    And it was there that they found the boats.


    — The boats are almost completely intact! — Marlo suddenly exclaimed, having been silent the entire way.


    That was good news.


    But then came the bad news.


    The sounds coming from the fog grew so horrifying that even Damon, who had been confident until now, abruptly changed his mind about going further.


    But there was no choice.


    Even with fingers pressed into their ears, they could still hear the terrifying whispers seeping into their minds, murmuring fears they had never shared.


    Without wasting time, they launched the boat into the water as a group.


    It was a large, sturdy vessel, designed for long journeys. All thirteen of them fit inside with ease.


    They boarded, casting one last glance at the shore.


    The wind grew stronger.


    The fog thickened.


    And the Dark Island waited.


    Following Henry’s instructions on how to steer the boat, they immediately began rowing rhythmically in the right direction.


    At Damon’s request, almost everyone closed their eyes.


    They knew—one must never open their eyes in the dark waters.


    They weren’t sure if it was just a legend or reality, but taking the risk was stupid.


    This was the moment of truth.


    No matter what, they couldn’t lose the rhythm.


    — One-two… one-two… one-two… — they repeated, rowing in sync.


    The most important thing—don’t falter.


    The wind died down. The water became thick, like the dense fog, but the boat kept moving.


    Splash.


    Something touched the hull.


    At first, these were light taps, as if the boat had brushed against floating branches. Then the sound changed—soft, wet, almost… alive.


    Someone nearby swallowed hard.


    — Row, — Henry rasped.


    Gloomer squeezed his eyes shut tighter as his mind began to waver.


    In the black visions of his mind, he saw frozen faces with hollow eye sockets, skulls teeming with hundreds of tiny mouths, hands growing from his own shoulders.


    Was his imagination playing tricks on him, or…?


    Gloomer gripped the oar tighter.


    One-two… one-two…


    Rustling.


    Barely audible, but it was there.


    A few seconds later, everything changed.


    He heard breathing. Something was breathing nearby, barely perceptible, as if standing right next to him.


    Suddenly, everyone stopped chanting in rhythm.


    In that moment, it wasn’t just quiet.


    In that moment, the boat itself became louder.


    Some people screamed, some laughed, some wept, while Gloomer whimpered in pain.


    It felt like something was biting his entire body.


    — Bastards, — Gloomer cursed in his mind.


    But under no circumstances could he open his eyes.


    Suddenly, he felt cold hands on his neck.


    At that moment, he thought he was going to die.


    But that wasn’t all.


    He also noticed that his fingers had begun to twitch uncontrollably.


    He started scratching himself with his own hands.


    However, what happened next was even worse.


    It felt as if something alive was crawling inside his mouth.


    He jerked, trying to clamp his lips shut with his hand… but his hand wouldn’t obey.


    At that moment, the stench became unbearable.


    And the sounds grew too loud.


    He could hear—


    Screams.


    Laughter.


    And then a familiar voice rang out.


    — Glo, help me, please.


    Naomi? What?


    For a split second, he was about to open his eyes when he felt a sudden blow.


    A sharp, piercing pain shot through him.


    And then—cold.


    Icy water rushed over his face, knocking the breath from his lungs.


    Gloomer coughed violently.


    — Glo, wake up! — he heard Naomi’s voice.


    Vale muttered:


    — Naomi, stop, you’ll kill him like that.


    Nearby lay broken pieces of the boat. Sand clung to his skin. A thick fog hung in the air.


    — Glo… — Naomi clung to him, shaking.


    He heard Damon’s voice:


    — Gloomer was the last to wake up. The others… — he fell silent, — …five aren’t


    breathing.


    Gloomer slowly sat up. He couldn’t forget what had just happened so easily.


    But that wasn’t the most important thing.


    He looked around.


    They had made it.


    And none of his friends had died.


    Good news.


    After what had just happened, Gloomer didn’t really want to go any further.


    But there was no way back.