Chapter 44
It begins (2)
The silent engine purred, low and throaty, as the truck carrying IAM and his teammates rumbled across the unnatural sand. No one spoke. The only sounds were the mechanical growl of the engine and the short, sharp breaths being quietly taken in the tight space. Even those breaths felt too loud. The further they drove from the Hold, the quieter the world became—not from lack of sound, but because something about the fog seemed to absorb it. Muffle it. Devour it.
IAM sat still, eyes watching the faint swirl of mist beyond the reinforced windows. The fog pressed in on all sides, and even the subtle vibrations of the truck's movement felt muted, like the Deadline was swallowing up reality one heartbeat at a time.
The further they moved into the vast unknown, the deeper the silence settled. Not even the hum of life remained—no birds, no wind, no insects. Just the fog. Just the truck. Just that feeling. That creeping, cloying feeling that something was watching them… and that it would never blink.
It was eerie and ominous, a strong sense of foreboding crawled down IAMs back. His body reacted before his thoughts did, a cold shiver rippling through his shoulders like the first tremor before a landslide. Something primal in him stirred uneasily. A voice whispered from a place deep inside his mind—not a sound, but a thought given shape: Turn back. Now. While you still can. Or you will regret it.
He didn't respond, didn't dare to. He swallowed hard and forced himself to stay still, pretending it was just nerves, just stress. Nothing more.
But the voice stayed.
Time twisted strangely in the Deadline. It felt unmeasured, like it was slipping past unnoticed. Minutes stretched and collapsed into each other. The only signs that they were making progress were the blinking indicator on the glowing map and the occasional jagged mountain peak that passed by in the distance.
And the shapes.
The strange shapes in the fog. Unnatural. Impossible.
IAM blinked at them. They were always just there, just far enough away to remain untouchable—warping and morphing, shifting like smoke underwater. When he had first arrived in the Deadline, he'd noticed them, distant silhouettes of no definable form. They hadn't changed. Wherever you stood, wherever you went, the shapes were there, lingering in the far-off mist. Constant. Watching. Moving in ways that defied logic.
IAM looked around the truck's interior, trying to anchor himself to the present. Jas and Mia sat at the front. He was behind Mia, Leo behind Jas. Kon sat beside him, Bryan next to Leo. The truck was large, spacious enough to carry their gear and weapons in the boot, but it still felt like the walls were closing in.
Clearing his throat, IAM broke the silence.
"Those weird shapes..." he started, voice low and hoarse from the dry air. "I've read quite a few books in the library, but… there wasn't much about them."
Mia glanced over her shoulder slightly, her voice quiet but steady. "Oh, those strange shapes? Yeah… best to ignore them. They're real strange. No one knows what they are. People have tried to study them, get close to them. Doesn't work. They stay the same distance no matter how much ground you cover. There was a guy—tried for twelve years, nonstop. Got nowhere. They never got closer."
Her voice lowered even more. "And here's the freaky bit. They've been reported in every Deadline across the world. Every single one. Always there. Always far away. Always watching."
IAM's lips parted slightly, but no words came. He turned his gaze back to the fog, to those dancing, shifting shadows that melted from one alien form to another with the elegance of nightmares. His eyes unfathomable and deep in this moment. He blinked hard and looked away.
Silence returned.
Time passed, or maybe it didn't. At some point, the other two trucks in their convoy peeled away, disappearing into the mist toward their assigned objectives. The truck IAM rode in pressed on, alone now, the hum of the engine their only companion.
Eventually, Mia spoke again, quiet but clear. "I know you should've read the mission file, but I'll go into more detail. Each team has a different scouting goal. Team 433765 is following the Deadline creatures. Their goal is to determine if there's a pattern to their movement—maybe they're being drawn to something. Team 236789 is observing a stationary mass of creatures. They're gathering in one spot. Spawnlings mostly. A few devilborns. No one knows why."
She paused. A breath. Then the punchline.
"We're investigating the source of it all. The place where the creatures ran from. Our job… is to figure out what made them flee."
IAM gave a bitter, humorless laugh under his breath. "Great. We got the suicide mission."
"Don't overthink it," Mia replied calmly. "Most Deadline creatures avoid the Hold. They stay at least ten miles out. The dangerous ones… the real monsters? Devils? They're buried deep in the fog, miles and miles away."
The truck rolled on. The cold wind outside howled faintly, barely heard beneath the thickened air. The fog pulsed, rolling in waves like it was breathing. IAM fidgeted. The silence was no longer just tense—it was oppressive. It clung to his skin, seeped into his bones. He was just about to crack a bad joke to relieve the pressure when the vehicle slowed and came to a stop.
The sudden halt felt like a gunshot.
"Get out," came a voice from the front.
Jas frowned. "Why?"
"We can't drive further. Terrain's too rough. We go on foot from here."
IAM looked outside and felt a growing weight in his chest. The mountains ahead looked like dead giants, grey and naked, stripped of life and dignity. No plants, no wildlife, no path. The ground was jagged and steep, the kind of terrain that punished every step.
The Deadline did not welcome travelers. It barely tolerated them.
They climbed out. One by one. The air outside was heavier. Still silent. Still too quiet. Each breath felt like it scraped the inside of their lungs. They began unloading what they needed for the pilot scouting—essentials only. The real mission would come later. If they survived this one.
Leo stomped the sand suddenly and let out a loud, frustrated groan.
"Jeez, Luiz! I have been meaning to ask why does this sand feel like... like sand sometimes and like—like rock another?"
IAM tilted his head but waited. He'd read something in the library, but Mia explained anyway.
"It reacts to movement. Fast, heavy pressure and it's solid. Soft steps, and it's just sand. Best theory we got is Deadline creatures corrosion. The land's infected."
IAM narrowed his eyes. "Why don't they collect it? Study it properly?"
"They have," Mia said. "One grain? Normal. But when enough gather together… the effect starts. And as usual…"
IAM cut her off. "No one knows why."
Mia gave him a sharp look. "You—"
But she didn't finish her sentence.
Because a sound cut through the stillness like a knife through flesh.
Sharp. Piercing. Repeating. Relentless.
It started softly, but there was something in it—something unnatural, something wrong. The kind of sound that bypassed your ears and went straight into your spine. Everyone froze. Blood turned to ice. The fog did not react. It never did.
The sound didn't stop.
It echoed across the sand and stone, bouncing in a world that should have eaten noise whole.
IAM's mouth dried instantly. The hairs on his neck stood upright. His hands clenched. He didn't realize he was trembling until he looked down.
The sound was familiar. Too familiar. Something everything human being has heard at least once in their lives.
A baby. Wailing.
But it didn't sound like it should. It sounded… wrong.
Like something had heard a baby cry once and was trying to mimic it—but couldn't get the soul of it right. It was too sharp. Too hollow. Too rhythmic. No breath between the cries. No variation. Just the same note, over and over, digging into the back of IAM's skull like a rusty needle.
The noise had weight. It dragged his thoughts downward. It made his breath hitch and his heart stumble. His ears were ringing but the cry kept going.
No one moved. No one breathed.
The silence before had been thick. Now, it was suffocating.
And through the endless fog…
…the baby kept crying.