Digging through the rubble was a slow, arduous process. We pulled body after body from the ruins. Ragger would occasionaly dart into a darkened space, pulling forth someone wailing and screaming in fear. A few Reavers slowly made their way out of the destruction as they realized it was friends in their ranks, no longer foes.

Ragger kept close to me, walking along softly as we made our way from building to building. He stopped suddenly, sniffing, his nose to the ground as he made his way to a collapsed building.

"Ah..." he said, his tone sad.

"What is it?"

"I believe I have found... Irene."

"Is.. Is she -"

"Her scent is colored by the pallor of death."

Oh.

My heart sank as Ragger's words echoed through the eerie stillness. Irene... The motherly woman who'd welcomed me with open arms whenever I had wounded my own heart, given up hope, or stumbled back from battle, battered and broken. Her warm smile and gentle touch had been a balm to my fractured soul. And now she was gone, her light snuffed out by the cruelty of this twisted world.

I stumbled forward, my legs leaden as I forced myself to approach the spot where Ragger stood, his head bowed. The rubble shifted beneath my feet, jagged edges tearing at my boots. I barely noticed the pain, my focus narrowed to the grim task ahead.

Kendall appeared at my side; his face ashen beneath the grime. Together, we began to dig, our hands scrabbling at the debris. Dust billowed up, coating our throats and stinging our eyes, but we persisted, driven by a desperate need to uncover our fallen friend.

Minutes crawled by, each second an eternity as we labored. Sweat poured down my back, mingling with the blood and ichor that already stained my clothes. My muscles burned with the strain, but I welcomed the pain, using it to fuel my efforts.

There. A flash of auburn hair, matted with blood and grime. I surged forward, scrabbling at the broken concrete and twisted metal. Irene's face appeared, her features serene despite the violence that had claimed her life. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted as if she'd simply drifted off to sleep. But the unnatural pallor of her skin and the gaping wound in her chest told a different story. A strangled cry tore from my throat as I pulled her into my arms, cradling her limp form against my chest.

Tears streaked through the grime on my cheeks as I rocked back and forth, my fingers tangling in her hair. The weight of all we had lost crashed over me, a tidal wave of grief and despair. First Alec, and now Irene. How much more could we endure? How many more lives would be sacrificed on the altar of this endless fight?

A hand gripped my shoulder, startling me from my spiraling thoughts. For a fleeting moment, I thought it was Alec's hand. I gripped it hard, but when I glanced up, it was to find Kendall standing over me, his face a mask. "We have to keep moving," he said, his voice rough. "There might be others who need our help."

I wanted to scream, to rage against the injustice of it. But I knew he was right. We couldn't afford to wallow in our grief, not when there was still work to be done. With a shuddering breath, I laid Irene's body gently on the ground, arranging her limbs with trembling fingers.

We would mourn later, when the dead had been laid to rest and the survivors tended to. For now, we had a duty to fulfill.

As we turned to continue our grim search through the rubble, a flicker of movement caught my eye, a shadow detaching itself from the deeper darkness that cloaked the ruins. A figure emerged, limping heavily and clutching their arm, their movements jerky and uncoordinated. For a moment, hope flared in my chest, a fragile spark that sputtered and died as I recognized the distinctive markings of a changeling. Human features, but gray skin, sunken eyes, elongated limbs and digits - a grotesque melding of two species that should never have been joined. This one was stuck between human and Reaver, their terror clouding the abilities that might have allowed them to complete the transformation.

The creature stumbled forward, its wild, unfocused eyes darting between us as a garble of syllables spilled forth from its mouth, a language I couldn't understand. Ragger growled, his hackles rising as he placed himself between us and the changeling, his stance protective and wary.

I reached for my weapon, my fingers closing around the hilt of my macheted, the worn leather warm and familiar against my skin. We had no way of knowing if this changeling was friend or foe, if they had come seeking sanctuary or to finish what their brethren had started. I didn't recognize them, either their human or Reaver features, a newcomer at the worst possible time.

"Ragger?" I said, tensely.

His ear flicked at me, shushing me. A string of harsh alien language dropped from his tongue, and the changeling looked at us.

The changeling took another step forward, its movements jerky and uncoordinated. It lifted its head, its gaze locking with mine. In that moment, I saw a flicker of something achingly human in those alien eyes - a desperate plea for help, for understanding.

"I..." It groaned. "I was told this was a safe place. That I could... Find... Sanctuary..."

Suspicion coiled in my gut, a cold, insidious thing that whispered of traps and betrayal. It could be a ruse, a ploy to lull us into complacency before striking the final blow. But no... The Thrall would have stayed to finish the job themselves, reveling in the carnage and destruction they had wrought.

It looked at my hand on the hilt of my machete and collapsed to its knees, a keening wail tearing from its throat. The sound was a raw, primal expression of anguish, of a soul pushed to its very limits.

The changeling's gaze darted to my hand, still clenched around the hilt of my machete, and it collapsed to its knees, a keening wail tearing from its throat, a sound of such raw, primal anguish that it seemed to rend the very air around us. In that moment, I knew I couldn't turn them away, couldn't condemn them to the same fate that had claimed so many others.

Sheathing my blade with a decisive motion, I stepped forward, extending my hand to the fallen creature, an offer of aid and understanding. "Come on," I said, my voice soft but firm, a lifeline in the darkness. "Let's get you somewhere safe. You look like you've come a long way. Are you hungry? I don't know what we have, but..."

The changeling stared at my hand, confusion in its eyes. Finally, it reached out, its clawed fingers brushing against my wrist, a touch that sent a shudder rippling through my body. As it gripped my hand, its skin began to shimmer and roil, muscles and bone rearranging themselves beneath the surface in a grotesque display. Within moments, a teenage boy knelt before me, his features terrified but undeniably human.

My gaze softened, a weary smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "You're okay," I said, infusing my words with a conviction I didn't entirely feel. "We're friends. And this... This was a Sanctuary. You're not too late. You're right on time. We're done hiding. Do you want to help us take the fight to them?"

The young man stared at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine for any hint of deception or malice. Finally, he nodded, a jerky, hesitant motion that spoke volumes of his fear and uncertainty.

I pulled him to his feet, my grip firm and reassuring. "What's your name?" I asked.

"I am... Kondura. My host is... Antony... There... Were others... On the road. I saw them. Not... Far..." he said, his voice a hoarse whisper that cracked on the final word.

"Kendall!" I shouted, my voice ringing out through the eerie stillness of the ruined Sanctuary. "Kendall?"

"What?" he called back, his voice distant but clear.

"Mathis is on his way, get over here!"