Dawn Walker-Chapter 56: Morning Without Footsteps
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The night did not end with a final scream.
It ended with silence.
Not the peaceful kind. Not the calm kind. The kind that made your spine itch because it felt unnatural, like a predator had stopped breathing just to listen.
Sekhmet sat with his back against a cold boulder, eyes open, posture still, hands resting close to where his blood sword could form if needed. Lily slept a few steps away under her cloak, curled on her side with her sword near her hand, as if even her dreams refused to fully relax.
Woooo...
The wind moved through the dead woods in soft waves, carrying the smell of dust and old sap, and only faint traces of last night’s blood. The sky above the jagged treetops had lightened from black to bruised blue.
Then came the first line of gold.
A thin edge of sunlight slid over the horizon and cut across the stone like a blade.
The sun was out.
And yet no footsteps came.
Tap Tap Tap...
None.
No kobol scrambling. No barking laughter. No hungry chorus.
Sekhmet’s eyes narrowed. His jaw tightened.
"Why did they stop?"
He expected the kobols to keep hunting. They had numbers. They had a blood scent. They had reasons. They should have chased until they died. Or leave their territory.
Instead, morning arrived like a door closing.
Ssshhh...
Light spilled between the twisted trees. Shadows shrank. The purgatory looked less like a mouth and more like a landscape again.
Sekhmet exhaled slowly through his nose, listening harder.
Ba - dum... Ba - dum...
His own heartbeat was the loudest thing he could hear.
Lily stirred, blinking awake. She sat up slowly, eyes scanning the area.
"We are alive," she said softly, like she did not trust saying it louder.
Sekhmet did not answer immediately. He kept his gaze moving —left, right, high branches, rocky ridges— checking for any ambush.
Still nothing.
Lily pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders and looked at him.
"Did they leave," she asked.
Sekhmet’s voice came out low.
"I do not know," he said honestly.
The lack of pressure felt wrong. Even predators rested in shifts. Even swarms regrouped. But they did not vanish without leaving something behind.
Sekhmet’s eyes narrowed further.
"Last night was chaotic. But this... this is clean."
He reached inward for the void connection instinctively, preparing to call for Bat Bat.
Then he froze. He felt it immediately.
Bat Bat was not on his shoulder.
Bat Bat was not in his coat.
Bat Bat was not circling overhead with proud, annoying commentary.
Sekhmet stared forward for a heartbeat, then muttered.
"Damn it."
Lily blinked at him.
"What," she asked.
Sekhmet’s jaw tightened.
"I forgot the bat," he said.
Lily stared at him as if he had just confessed he forgot his spine somewhere.
"You forgot your battle partner," she said slowly.
Sekhmet did not look at her. His pride did not deserve eye contact.
"It was a night of running," he said. "And you were heavy."
Lily’s mouth twitched as if she wanted to argue, then decided survival was a better use of time.
Sekhmet focused and opened the void connection.
Whooom...
A tear of dark space trembled in the air beside him like the world had been peeled open.
Bat Bat shot out immediately.
FlapFlapFlap!
It slammed into Sekhmet’s chest like an angry pillow and clung there, claws digging into his coat.
"You leave me!" Bat Bat shouted.
Sekhmet grabbed it gently and peeled it off his chest.
"Lower your voice," he hissed.
Bat Bat puffed up.
"I scream," it said.
Sekhmet stared at it.
Bat Bat whispered loudly instead.
"I scream quiet."
Lily covered her mouth with her hand, shoulders shaking slightly.
Sekhmet ignored both of them and pulled out a few more bats, the remaining minions.
Pop... Pop... Pop...
Twenty small bat minions fluttered out into morning light, their bodies like moving shadows.
Flap... Flap... Flap...
Morning changed everything.
At night, the world belonged to darkness. Shapes could hide in shadow. Predators could vanish between trees and stones. Minions struggled to track what was not outlined.
But now the sun was up. The shadows were thin. Even the ugliest creature looked clearer.
And kobols were not built for sunlight.
Their eyes reflected moonlight beautifully. During the day they looked dirtier, more obvious, like rats caught on a kitchen floor.
Sekhmet’s gaze sharpened.
He pointed toward the direction of the cave where he had left the two ghouls.
"Scout," he commanded.
Bat Bat nodded, pretending it was not still offended.
"I scout," it said, then added, "I pee if see kobol."
"Do not pee unless necessary," Sekhmet snapped.
Bat Bat blinked.
"Necessary," it repeated, then launched into the air.
Flap!
The minion bats followed like a small cloud, spreading outward in a wide arc, weaving between trees and above ridges.
Sekhmet waited, eyes tracking them as they shrank into the distance.
Lily watched him with a quiet tension.
"You are worried about them," she said.
Sekhmet did not answer directly.
He simply said, "They were Slik guards."
Lily lowered her gaze.
She knew what that meant.
They were not strangers. They were part of her responsibility. Their families would ask where they went. Their names would not vanish just because purgatory was cruel.
Thirty Minutes passed.
The sun climbed higher. Light warmed the stone. Birds —real birds, not the bats— made faint calls far away.
Then the bats returned.
FlapFlapFlap!
Bat Bat came first, voice strained.
"Dead," it said.
Sekhmet’s chest tightened.
The minion bats circled above him, then settled around, chittering softly.
Bat Bat landed on Sekhmet’s shoulder and pointed with a claw.
"Many dead," it repeated. "Kobol... dead Kobol. Blood smell. No ghouls."
Sekhmet’s eyes narrowed.
He looked at Lily.
"Stay here," he said.
Lily’s eyes widened immediately.
"No," she said.
Sekhmet’s voice sharpened.
"Yes," he said again. "If there is another pack, you do not need to be standing there."
Lily’s jaw tightened, but she forced herself to nod.
"Do not take long," she said quietly.
