The announcement came later. It wasn’t a horn or a bell. It was Gravel’s voice—loud and harsh, filled with raspiness that earned him his name. His voice carried across the entire ridge with authority.

  “EVERYONE LISTEN!”

  Grub stepped outside with his bundle at his side. People gathered slowly, wiping hands on clothes, stepping out from lean-tos and makeshift shelters. They looked thinner than before—much dirtier as well. But they were alive. That counted for something.

  Gravel stood on a rock like he always did when he wanted control of the moment. His hat sat crooked. His face was hard and stern. His eyes found Grub immediately. Grub felt it like pressure against his skin. Wrighty was somewhere nearby. Grub didn’t look for him. He didn’t need to.

  Gravel’s voice cut through the air.

  “Some of y’all want to leave,” Gravel said.

  Murmurs rippled as Gravel spoke.. A few heads turned in confusion. While a few people shifted like the words had given them permission to admit what they’d been thinking.

  Gravel continued. “I’m not stopping you.” He paused before continuing. “We can’t keep running like hunted animals, but we also can’t pretend this world is safe. If y’all want to go, you go. Nobody’s chained here.”

  His eyes stayed on Grub as he said it—like the speech had been built around him. Wrighty must’ve tipped him off about his plans, Grub's jaw tightened.

  Gravel looked away, scanning the group. “For the ones who stay—we build. We train. We get stronger. We learn how to not die the next time something like that comes crawling out of the jungle.”

  Gravel finished with a final bark. “That’s it. Decide.”

  People began moving again as soon as he was done, but it was different now. The ridge felt split down the middle. Some survivors stayed by the shelters, clinging to the idea of building. Others drifted toward their bags, toward the edge and toward the forest. Their minds focused on leaving like Grub.

  Grub turned back toward his tent. And as he moved, voices followed him. He could feel the presence of several people approaching his tent. Shiela rolled after him first, wheels crunching on stone. She looked tired but determined. She always looked determined lately, like she refused to let the world take anything else from her.

  “Grub,” she called.

  He didn’t stop. Then Snow stepped in his path.

  She didn’t hold a bow right now. She didn’t look like a fighter. She looked like a cold girl dressed head to toe in fur. She was shivering still and her breath was fogging.

  “You’re leaving?” she said.

  Grub nodded once.

  Snow’s lips pressed into a line. “Why?”

  Grub’s voice stayed quiet. “Because I don’t belong here.”

  Sheath approached next, arms folded like he was trying to look unaffected. But Grub saw the tension in his shoulders. He was still carrying humiliation from the battle. His face exuded confidence but his small body movement betrayed him.

  “You’re running? I knew you were a pussy but c’mon man. ,” Sheath said.

  Grub’s gaze slid to him. “I’m moving. And I am not a pussy.”

  Sheath scoffed. “Same thing.”

  Grub didn’t argue. He didn’t owe Sheath anything. He barely even tolerated that guy. Then Gravel came up behind them, he walked slowly and grabbed his shoulder.

  “You should stay,” Gravel said.

  Grub looked at him. “Why?”

  Gravel’s jaw flexed. “Because you’re useful. I mean, I ain’t never see a feller beat sum like that”

  Grub almost laughed. His ribs made him regret the thought.

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  Gravel continued, quieter now. “Because we don’t know this world. And you’re injured. Also because if you walk out there alone, something will find you.”

  Grub’s eyes narrowed. “Something will find us here too.”

  Gravel stared at him like he wanted to argue and couldn’t. Because Grub wasn’t wrong.

  Snow’s voice slipped in. “You don’t have to be alone.”

  Grub’s chest tightened—not with warmth. With a warning. That was the trap.You don’t have to be alone. That sentence always came right before you started caring. Grub looked past them, toward the ridge edge. Toward the forest line where the trees began to thicken again.

  “I’m going,” he said.

  Shiela’s hands gripped the sides of her wheelchair. “To find your past?”

  Grub didn’t answer immediately. He didn’t want to say it out loud, because saying it made it real. Made it sound childish. But it was the only thing that felt like a direction.

  “Yes,” he said simply, not giving away anything outside of that.

  Five stood a few steps back, hands at his sides, expression unreadable. He didn’t try to stop Grub. He didn’t try to convince him. He just watched like he was storing the moment away for later. He hadn’t spoken once.

  Grub’s eyes found him at last. Grub didn’t know why that unsettled him more than the others.

  Wrighty pushed through then. He didn’t look playful now. He didn’t look like the annoying idiot he usually did. He looked serious in a way that made him seem older.

  “If you’re leaving,” Wrighty said, voice low, “then I’m leaving too.”

  Grub’s stomach tightened.

  “No,” Grub said instantly.

  Wrighty blinked like he’d been hit.

  “What?” Wrighty said. “Why not?”

  Grub looked at him, and for a second, he almost let the truth show on his face. Because if you come with me, you become my problem. If you trip, I would have to turn around. Because if you die… it would slow me down. I don’t need that.

  He swallowed it down.

  “It’s better alone,” Grub said.

  Wrighty’s eyes shone with something sharp. Hurt, and anger trying to cover it.

  “So that’s it?” Wrighty said. “After everything? After I saved you from the Leviathan? After we—”

  Grub cut him off with a steady stare. “It’s not personal.”

  Wrighty’s laugh was ugly this time. “Like that makes me feel any better!.”

  Grub didn’t respond. He simply looked away trying to avoid meeting his eyes. Then he saw movement at the ridge edge.

  It was Eerie. He didn’t announce anything. But he seemed to be leaving too. He simply stepped away like he had never been part of the group to begin with. One second he was there, half-shadowed between rocks. The next second he was gone into the trees, silent as a bad thought. No one stopped him. No one called after him.

  Grub’s eyes followed the spot where he vanished, then returned to Shiela. She rolled closer, ignoring the tension in the tent and stared deeply at Grub. Her eyes were glossy.

  “You’re really going,” she said.

  Grub nodded.

  Shiela’s voice lowered. “I’m… glad you lived.”

  Grub didn’t know what to say to that. Gratitude felt complicated. He didn’t know what to say to that. Shiela reached out and took his hand. Which made Grub flinch immediately. Her grip was warm. She squeezed once, hard.

  “If I figure out how to communicate in this world,” she whispered, “I swear I’ll find you. I’ll make sure we can talk again. I don’t know how yet. But… I’ll try.”

  Grub stared at their hands.

  For a second, he almost didn’t pull away. Then he did—slowly and gently he pulled his hand out of her grasp before the found their way back to his sides.

  Five finally stepped forward. He bowed respectfully. Like he had all the way back when they met.

  “This won’t be the last time we speak,” Five said.

  Grub studied him. “You sound sure.”

  Five’s eyes didn’t move. “I am.”

  Then, quieter, like a promise made to himself: “This place will grow.”

  Grub gave a small shrug, because he didn’t know what to do with such a strange prophecy. Was it a prophecy? Or was Five just talking out of his ass? Grub didn’t really care.

  “Maybe,” Grub said.

  He lifted his bundle onto his shoulder. Snow watched him with that same sharp quiet focus. Sheath looked like he wanted to say something and couldn’t find the words. Gravel stood still, accepting his decision before tipping his hat to him.

  Wrighty’s face was the hardest to look at. He didn’t like he was angry. He looked like he was being left behind for a reason he didn’t understand.

  Grub didn’t say goodbye in a dramatic way. He skipped making a speech or really showing any emotion and instead just started walking away. Every step hurt. His leg burned and his ribs pulled. His body reminded him of what he’d survived.

  He limped past the ridge edge, into the shadow where the trees thickened and the air turned damp. The sounds of the camp faded behind him—voices, shifting, someone calling his name once, maybe, or maybe it was just the wind.

  He didn’t look back. Because if he looked back, he might stop. And if he wanted to find himself he could never stop until his goal was complete. He kept moving in a direction away from the other survivors that were leaving. Grub walked alone into the woods without fear. The forest surrounded him slowly. And somewhere behind him, on the ridge, Wrighty stood still and watched until Grub became nothing but a shadow between trees. Then even that shadow vanished.

  And Grub stepped deeper into the dangerous forest alone—injured, and ready for the challenge of finding himself.