Tenebrous Wolf

The overall atmosphere within the traveling party of wanderers could only be described as tense. Every one of them was on edge, anxiety simmering just beneath the surface. But none wore it more openly than Klaus.

Some might wonder what had him so rattled. Strangely enough, the answer was far simpler than it seemed.

Klaus had grown used to the obsidian walls of the Labyrinth, with its endless, tangled paths stretching in every direction like a spider’s web. For all the deadly threats the labyrinth concealed, like beasts that could rip a grown man in two, it also offered a peculiar sense of security.

At least, it did for a group of seasoned Awakened like them.

But now, they traversed a terrain ruled by silver sand. It was vast, open, and exposed — offering no shelter, no cover, no place to hide. In simple terms: They were completely, hopelessly vulnerable to anything and everything.

If some forsaken terror decided to burst from beneath the sand, they’d be finished.

For Klaus, whose Awakening had sharpened both his body and, more importantly, his senses, the thought of being ambushed disturbed him greatly. He hated being caught off guard.

Especially after last time.

A Nightmare Carapace had erupted from the ground without warning, tearing open his stomach and exploiting a gap in his Nightmare Armor he hadn’t even known existed. The pain, the shock, the helplessness, it had left a scar deeper than any wound.

Now, every shift of sand beneath his boots felt like a threat.

And, of course, it didn’t help that everything in this cursed world seemed hell-bent on killing them.