Chapter 9 – Blood trail

Caelum’s hand had been locked in a white-knuckled grip on the pistol, as if he could force the last twelve hours out of his body through the magazine well. He didn’t stop pointing until the creature was nothing but a memory, and the only thing left moving was his own chest, pumping in short, jerky gasps.

He slowly let the air out of his lungs and lowered his arm, one millimetre at a time, until he remembered how to breathe again. The pistol seemed to be heavier in his hand than it had when he first picked it up, heavier than the spear, heavier than the leg, heavier than all of it. He placed it carefully beside him, as if it might go off again just from remembering.

He waited for the night chorus to return. It took a long time: the floaters drifted back in on their glowing tides, the bugs began to hum at the edges of the hollow, and a tide of sound gradually built back out into the world. He checked the entrance every few seconds, waiting for a bloody black mass to lurch back out, but it never came. Finally, he had time for a breather.

Caelum opened up the ARC interface with a thought.

ARC // Assessment • Registration • Certification Interface

• LINK: LOCAL • MODE: POST-AWAKENING

STATUS SNAPSHOT

• EVENT: MARK MANIFESTATION DETECTED (UNVERIFIED)

• RETURN: CONFIRMED • CONTAMINATION CHECK: PENDING

• LEGAL STATE: CANDIDATE (NO LICENSE)

• WARNING: Independent rift entry is illegal without Charter authorisation.

IDENTITY

• Name: CAELUM WARD

• Designation: None

• Age: 19 • Sex: M • Height: 178cm* • Weight: 72kg*

• Strata Track: LOWER PIPELINE • Scholarship: ATS PRE-CANDIDATE (CONDITIONAL)

• Guardian/Next-of-Kin: ON FILE

PHYSIOLOGY (LIVE)

• Heart Rate: 128 bpm (ELEVATED) • O₂ Sat: 97%

• Core Temp: 37.6°C (HIGH-NORMAL) • Tremor: LOW

• Cortisol Index: HIGH • Sleep Debt: SEVERE

ARC BASELINE (INITIAL)

• ARC Sync: 41% (LIMITED • post-event neural noise detected)

• Signal Stability: LOW–MID

• Rift Exposure Dose: MODERATE (estimate; awaiting lab sample)

• Scar Interface: PRESENT (MICROFILAMENT TRACE)

• Scar Immunity Marker: UNKNOWN • TEST REQUIRED

Compliance: You are under mandatory observation until baseline is confirmed.

MANIFESTATION READOUT (PRELIMINARY)

• PRIMARY DOMAIN: PENDING CONFIRMATION

• SUBDOMAIN: PENDING

• EMISSION TYPE: PENDING

// REQUIRED ACTIONS

• REPORT TO INTAKE CHECKPOINT (RMA/R&R)

• BLOOD + TISSUE SWAB (immunity + contamination)

• ARC CALIBRATION (neural latch + baseline stabilisation)

• INITIAL CLASSIFICATION INTERVIEW

—[CLOSE]—

Taking a moment to collect himself and remember his experience fighting the salamander, Caelum attempted to tap into the power he had used against the salamander. He closed his eyes, searching for that same shock of electricity. There—a shock ran up his spine, building at the base of his skull before flowing down his arms like liquid metal. His skin pricked with a slight tingling sensation as fine hairs stood on end. He extended his hand, picturing a spiky lance of blue-white lightning flashing across the hollow. Still, when he opened his eyes, only a few sparks flickered from his fingertips, sputtering weakly before dying.

Caelum let out an exasperated breath. It was a good idea, but without instruction and practice, he would have to be a genius to utilise the resonance ability.

Getting closer to his pack, Caelum searched for the RS stone that would assist him in getting back to Earth. It was meant to be used for newly awakened marked, so he wasn’t concerned that he wouldn’t be able to start it.

Confirming that the stone was still there, Caelum stood up, leaning against the interior wall and using his trusted spear. The spear had been used more like a walking stick than a weapon. He chuckled to himself.

Caelum followed the dark, glistening trail of blood that snaked from the hollow, threading itself along the twisted roots like a sinister ribbon.

Each step brought him past splatters and smeared pools, the metallic tang sharp in the damp air. For a good stretch, he saw his own crimson reflection shimmering in the dried-out blood—a ghostly echo of pain—until the path finally split, the blood veering off into a shadowed path.

After a short walk along the diverged trail, Caelum came upon a withered bush, its brittle, pale branches in the half-light. There, crumpled beneath the tangled stems, lay the Reed-stalker—its monstrous form stilled forever, the last of its life pooled darkly at its side.

A hollow ache radiated through Caelum’s chest as he gazed at his fallen adversary. The weight of what he’d done pressed down on him: exhaustion, pain, and a hint of sadness. Yet a quiet pride took root. He had survived. He had done what few could.

He crouched beside the Reed-stalker’s body, hands steady but heavy with fatigue, and began to carefully remove evidence for documentation, proof that he’d brought down a predator.

He pried out two of its long canine teeth with his knife, keeping one as a grim trophy, the other for the files. The stench of its dark blood clung to his fingers as he gathered a sample, then severed one of its ears, all the while feeling the weight of the moment settle in his bones.

With the grim work done, Caelum wiped his hands on the grass and started back along the twisting trail, his pack heavier with evidence and memory.

Each step homeward was slow, his body aching, his mind turning over the chaos of the past days. He drifted through fragments of memory—lightning in his veins, the beast’s eyes, the sound of his own heartbeat—until even his worries dulled, replaced by a heavy, contemplative quiet.

As he neared the spot where the salamander’s corpse had sprawled the day before, Caelum stopped short. The ground was bare. No bones, no scraps of meat—nothing remained but a disturbance in the water bank. The ecosystem here wasted nothing.

Something, or many things, had come in the night and swept it all away, leaving only emptiness behind. The skin on Caelum’s arms prickled. Whatever scavengers prowled these woods, they worked fast—and maybe, he thought, they were watching still. He tightened his grip on his spear and kept moving, not daring to look back.