Ashren ran with everything he had left.

The flames behind him roared like a living creature, chasing him across the broken street.
Smoke curled around his face, hot and suffocating, but he didn’t stop.
Not while the two trembling children clung to him, their tiny hands gripping his shirt in sheer panic.

“We’re almost there,” he gasped, though his lungs burned.

The ground shook, a distant explosion echoing through the village.
The kids whimpered.
Ashren tightened his hold.

At last—half-buried under fallen debris—a round metal hatch came into view.
The underground shelter.

He stumbled up to it and banged on the door with trembling fists.

“Open up! It’s Ashren! I’ve brought the children!”

For a moment, nothing.

Then a small metal slit slid open.
A pair of frightened villager eyes peered out.

“Thank the skies—Ashren, get them inside! Hurry!”

Bolts clanked.
Hands reached out, pulling the children first, then Ashren into the cramped underground room.

The air inside was thick and stale—filled with heat, sweat, and fear.
Dozens of villagers huddled together, whispering, crying, praying under their breath.

Ashren managed a faint, exhausted nod.
He collapsed to one knee beside the two he had carried.

“You’re safe now,” he whispered, brushing soot from their foreheads.
“I’m here… I won’t let anything happen to you.”

But the shelter walls trembled again, dust sprinkling down from the ceiling.

Someone grabbed his arm.

“They’re right above us.”

Silence fell across the shelter.
Every breath felt too loud.

Then—

BOOOOOOM!

The metal door exploded inward.

The blast threw villagers off their feet.
Screams filled the chamber.
Smoke poured in like a dark wave.

Ashren shielded the children instinctively as shards of metal scattered across the floor.

Through the swirling smoke, silhouettes moved—
sharp, armored, silent.

Night Hunters.

Their glowing visors pierced the darkness of the underground room.

Behind them stepped their leader, tall and cold.

He scanned the terrified faces and spoke in calm authority.

“Take them.”

Panic erupted.

“No! Please!”
“Leave us alone!”
“My children—!”

Hunters grabbed villagers, dragging them upward toward the surface one by one.

Ashren tried to hold onto the kids, but a Hunter jerked him forward with brute strength.
He clutched the children tightly as they were forced out into the ruined street above.

The once-busy village was a graveyard of burning houses and falling ash.
Villagers cried as they were forced into a large circle.

Ashren stood toward the back, holding the children close.
His friend stumbled into place beside him.

“Are you okay?” the friend whispered.

“No,” Ashren answered honestly.

His eyes moved to the hooded girl.
Her head was low, face hidden.
Even in the chaos, she seemed to shrink into the crowd.

The leader stepped forward slowly, hands behind his back, voice echoing across the broken square.

“She is here. Among you.”

Ashren blinked.

“Who?”

The leader tilted his head as if amused.

“The one who thinks she is hidden.”

His voice grew sharper.

“Princess… reveal yourself.”

Gasps rippled.
Confusion spread.

A princess?
Here?

Ashren’s mind raced, but his heart tightened.

The leader’s tone turned colder.

“This is not the time for games.
Do not test my patience.”

His visor swept across the villagers like a predator searching prey.

No one dared move.

“Very well,” he said quietly, raising one hand.
“If you insist on hiding… we shall start removing pieces of the board.”

The villagers trembled.

Ashren swallowed hard.

And the leader smiled.

To be continued…