The eighth morning was mist-wrapped and sluggish, thick with the scent of damp moss and sweat-soaked cloth. Camp stirred late, movements slowed by sore muscles and underfed bodies. The deer stew from two nights ago had stretched thin, and now hunger was gnawing its way back in, raw and insistent.

  Theo’s snoring cut through the quiet until Wren, already up and elbow-deep in dirt, threw a clump of moss at him. He grunted, sat up, and blinked blearily at the early light.

  "You sound like an engine that needs to be put down," she muttered.

  "I'm keeping spirits up," Theo replied, yawning. "Someone’s got to be the background music."

  Wren just rolled her eyes and kept digging at the garden plot. She wasn’t even sure what she was planting anymore. Mostly, it just gave her something to do.

  Nearby, Vin turned a half-rotted log over with a stick, searching for insects. "Protein’s protein," he mumbled, plucking a wriggling grub.

  At the center of camp, the Obelisk sat unchanged, but not untouched. People passed it with the same wary reverence they'd once given cemeteries or shrines. Only now, some were growing more bold.

  A teenage boy named Leo sacrificed his cracked phone.

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  He didn’t say what path he was saving for, but more and more figured better to survive then just being sentimental.

  Jake took notes from the side, quietly recording the sacrifice.

  Miriam stood behind him, arms folded, her gaze unreadable. “More and more people are starting to accept it.”

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  Jake nodded. “Eventually, most of them will have to.”

  “I’ll be choosing soon,” she added, more to herself than him.

  Jake didn’t press.

  By midday, the three scouting parties were prepping to leave. The atmosphere had grown tenser. The claw marks Camila found still loomed over everyone’s thoughts. There was no denying something larger was out there.

  Miriam pulled Yusuf, Alex, and Camila aside.

  “You three head east. Jason, Matt, and Roger will go back to the stream. Jared’s group will head to the lake. Don’t push too far beyond midafternoon. No heroes.”

  Camila gave a single nod. Alex looked to Yusuf, who already had his spear strapped to his back. They left quietly, slipping into the trees.

  The eastern woods were different. Denser, more tangled. There was no clear game trail, and the underbrush had a strange pattern to it—like it had been flattened and regrown, again and again. The quiet wasn’t natural. It was expectant.

  They moved cautiously, spears ready.

  Camila stopped suddenly, crouching low. A broken branch. Hair stuck to the bark.

  “Boar?” Yusuf asked.

  Camila shook her head. “Too coarse. Could be a bear. Or something else.”

  They continued another thirty minutes before deciding to head back. They hadn’t found water or a new source of game, but they weren’t about to test the woods’ patience.

  Just before reentering the clearing, Alex spotted something snagged in a bush—a torn bit of cloth, black and singed at the edges. Not one of theirs.

  He held it up.

  “Someone else?” Camila asked.

  “Maybe.”

  No one spoke on the way back.

  When all three groups returned, the atmosphere shifted again. Jared’s group reported movement in the lake—too deep to identify, but large. Jason’s team found fresher tracks by the stream—wider, deeper than a man’s foot. Roger estimated weight over three hundred pounds.

  And then Alex laid the cloth on the fire ring stone.

  “It’s not one of ours,” he said.

  “Could be a lost item,” Miriam said, though her voice lacked conviction.

  “Or another group,” Camila said.

  A long silence followed.

  “I thought we were alone,” Ellie said.

  “We never knew that,” Jake replied. “We just assumed.”

  That night, guards doubled their shifts. Camila, Alex, and Yusuf stayed awake late, sitting together near the flickering firelight, sharing what little remained of the root tea.

  “You think the other groups would be like us?” Yusuf asked.

  “Maybe,” Camila said. “Some will be worse and some better, depends I suppose”

  Alex stared into the flames. “Well I suppose we'll find out”

  Camila nodded.

  Somewhere in the distance, an animal howled. Low. Deep.

  Too deep for a wolf.