Chapter 260: Risky situation

Colby

After the strange incidents with the twins, portals were opening all over the city, with strange creatures coming out. It was getting tense. People didn’t even want to leave their homes anymore.

I kept wondering when Solen was finally going to make an appearance. He was biding his time, sending his underlings to make things chaotic for us. Was it a distraction? Some elaborate setup so that when he did strike, we’d be too worn down to fight back?

The twins were being kept at home for good now. It was the safest place for them, or at least that’s what we told ourselves. People kept experiencing weird, dangerous episodes just from interacting with them. Twisted visions, memory gaps, and bursts of raw emotion that didn’t belong to them. It made for a strange and increasingly risky situation.

Sometimes the twins would ask about it. Why was this happening? Why did people look at them like that? Why couldn’t they go outside anymore? We couldn’t give them answers, not real ones. All we could do was offer tight hugs and say that it was going to be okay.

I wanted to believe that. But how do you convince three-year-olds—kids who had already been through too much—that everything was going to be fine when even the adults didn’t know what was coming?

Lia and I were out again, tracking down the latest portal. They always showed up without warning, and they always felt wrong. It was like the city itself was bleeding.

The creatures weren’t hard to fight. They were weak, malformed things, like shadows that barely held shape. But their presence was disturbing. It was the frequency, the randomness, the sheer unnaturalness of it that was getting to us.

I glanced over at Lia as she knelt by the edge of the portal. Her fingers hovered just inches from the swirling edge, her eyes scanning for any sign of change. It looked just like the others: unstable, dark around the edges, flickering like it was struggling to stay open. Eventually, they always closed on their own, usually within an hour. As if Solen couldn’t hold them long.

But how long until he could?

How were we supposed to keep going like this?

No one was sleeping. No one could. Lia had dark circles etched under her eyes like bruises, and I was sure I looked the same. Even finding time to eat felt like a luxury.

The city was unraveling. And we were, too.

“This one wasn’t here yesterday.”

I crouched at the edge of the rift, watching the heat ripple off it like the whole thing was exhaling. “Tell me I’m not imagining this.”

“You’re not,” Lia said, standing beside me. “This thing’s fresh. Still bleeding.”

I tilted my head. “So… rift or birth canal? Pick a metaphor, because I’m uncomfortable.”

She gave me a sidelong glance. “Colby.”

“I’m just saying! It’s got that weird pulsing thing going on. It’s… alive.”

She knelt, palm hovering over the warped ground. “No energy signature like the last one. This one’s quieter.”

“Quieter is worse,” I muttered. “Quiet means planning. Quiet means it’s thinking.”

She stood again, brushing her hands off. “It’s a message.”

“Message received,” I said. “Now let’s go home and pretend we never saw it.”

She didn’t move.

“You’re thinking about stepping in,” I said flatly.

“No. I’m thinking about why it’s here.”

After fighting all these portals, I was tired. Not wanting to bother with them. All I wanted was to go back home and see the twins. Be at home and just relax.

But Lia wanted to look at these portals because she felt responsible for them. I guess I couldn’t blame her.

“Oh, good. You’re in deduction mode. I’m in ‘maybe we don’t poke the mysterious glowing death hole today’ mode.”

“I’m not poking anything,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “I’m observing.”

“Lia.”

“What?”

“You always say that right before you poke something.”

She crossed her arms. “Look, we’ve closed every rift we’ve seen so far. This one’s different. It’s not calling us in—it’s... watching.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

She nodded once, eyes still fixed on the rift. “It means Solen’s closer. He’s not hiding anymore. He’s preparing.”

I shifted my stance. “And we’re not ready.”

She finally looked at me. “No. We’re not.”

Silence stretched between us. The rift pulsed again, slow and deliberate.

“Then we don’t go in,” I said. “Not now. We do what we’re good at.”

“What’s that?”

“Getting ready to break things when the time comes.”

She smirked. Just barely. “You and your poetic strategies.”

“Hey. They work.”

We stepped back in sync, instinctively. Like something in us agreed this wasn’t the moment.

“We’ll come back with the others,” she said.

“Yeah. And maybe some explosives. Just in case.”

Lia nodded, still watching it, as if she looked away, it might open its mouth and speak. “We don’t engage yet.”

“Right,” I said, glancing at the thing one more time. “But if it twitches, I’m setting it on fire.”

“You say that like you don’t want to set everything on fire.”

“I’m a simple man,” I said. “And that thing’s creepy.”

Lia crouched again, squinting at the center of the rift. “It’s… looking for something.”

“That’s very comforting. I love when eldritch horrors go window shopping.”

“Colby.”

“I’m serious! You ever seen a hole in reality focus? Because I swear it just flinched when you said Solen’s name.”

She didn’t laugh. “Maybe it did.”

I stared at her. “Okay, you don’t get to say terrifying things in that tone like it’s normal.”

She ignored me, reaching into her jacket and pulling out a chalk marker. “I’m marking the edges. We’ll map the spread.”

“Why? So we can track how quickly it decides to eat the local wildlife?”

“No. So we know where not to stand when it explodes.”

“Oh, good. A tactical death zone. Can’t wait to brief the others.”

She started sketching careful sigils around the outer ring, muttering under her breath.

I glanced back at the tree line. “You ever think we should’ve just… not joined the world-saving club?”

“All the time,” she said, not looking up. “But then you show up with snacks and bad jokes and I remember why I stay.”

“That was almost sweet.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

There was a sudden, sharp crack from within the rift—like glass under pressure. We both froze.

“…Did you hear that?” I whispered.

“No, Colby, I imagined the existential shriek from the abyss. Of course I heard it.”

“Cool, cool, cool. Just making sure we’re panicking on the same wavelength.”

The rift rippled once more. Slower this time. Waiting.

Lia stood slowly. “Let’s go.”

“For real?”

“For now.”

I didn’t argue. Not when her voice sounded like that.

As we turned, I muttered, “Still think we should’ve brought explosives.”

She didn’t answer. But she didn’t say no, either.

Creatures poured out of it almost the moment we were ready to leave. Lia and I made quick work of it, fighting them off and sending the creatures to their graves. I was glad to be rid of them, and even more glad to finally be heading home hours later.

My body was sore. Sure, my superior werewolf healing helped, but it didn’t change the fact that I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. The creatures just kept coming. Easy to kill, yeah—but they were relentless. It almost felt like I was stuck in some twisted, glitched-out video game that wouldn’t let me log off.

Sighing, I went straight for the shower the second I walked through the door. The hot water helped a little. Scrubbed away the grime, not the fatigue.

When I came out, the house was dim and calm. Everyone was either waiting or trying to relax. Rain was snoring, of course. He had claimed the biggest couch and sprawled out across it like a starfish, completely at peace with himself.

I slapped his feet on my way past, and he jerked upright with a loud yelp.

“Ow!” Rain shouted, glaring at me through sleep-blurred eyes.

“Quit hogging the couch,” I muttered, giving him a sharp look.

He pouted in that dramatic way only he could manage, lower lip sticking out like a toddler. I wasn’t in the mood to indulge it. I was too damn tired. Tired and sick of the day.

Lia, somehow, still had more energy than I did. She was on the floor with the twins, playing quietly and checking them over like she couldn’t help herself. Her movements were gentle, but her eyes never stopped flicking toward their expressions, like she was searching for cracks in their calm.

I glanced over at them, too, glad to see them smiling, safe. But it made me wonder what was going on in their heads. It was hard to say, especially with how they could communicate silently with each other. That eerie twin connection, made even stronger by their power. Sometimes I caught them staring at each other too long, like they were having full conversations no one else could hear.

“I hope this ends soon,” Rain muttered, rubbing his eyes. “What is taking Solen so long anyway?”

I shrugged, dropping into a chair with a wince. “He’s been locked away for a long time. Probably takes a lot to build up that kind of power again. And if he’s smart, he’s waiting until we’re exhausted.”

“If only he would destroy himself,” Lia said, her voice quiet but sharp. She glanced at the twins with something like guilt softening her features.

Every one of us hoped for that. We wanted it more than anything.

We were tired of fighting ghosts. Tired of waiting for the real monster to finally show up. And somewhere, deep down, we were all wondering the same thing.

What if this wasn’t the buildup?

What if this were the war?

And what if we were already losing?