How long had it been since Shiori vanished into the dark? The campfire was down to dying embers. Koyoi rose to her feet.
“...I have to go.”
She clutched her drawstring bag. It was cold; the gods inside were shivering.
“...Yes.” “...Hurry.”
The voices of the Shrine and the Vacant Lot answered in faint whispers.
She extinguished the fire completely and returned to the mountain path. The half-moon hung over the ridge, its pale light casting the long, skeletal shadows of trees across the ground. The path beneath her feet was pitch black, and she nearly tripped over tangled roots time and again. Still, she couldn't stop.
Shiori’s words echoed in her mind.
“They’ve already started taking your measure, too.”
Measuring. They were trying to capture her outline. Once they caught it, she would be fixed—pinned in place—just like Kirihara Town, or the villages that had disappeared.
The path climbed gently. Her breath grew ragged and her legs felt like lead, but even though she knew her body was reaching its limit, she couldn't afford to rest. Something was behind her. She couldn't see it, but she knew it was there.
The darkness deepened as the moon slipped behind a cloud, until she couldn't even see her own feet. She moved by touch, feeling for tree trunks to confirm her direction, her fingertips so numb that all sensation was fading.
“...Where?” she whispered to the pouch.
“...Ahead.” “...Cross the mountain.”
The voices of the Shrine and the Vacant Lot were fragmented.
“...Aim for... the Boundary.”
The Boundary. The First Boundary. Shiori had said she would be somewhat safe once she crossed it.
The trees began to thin and the wind picked up as she neared the ridge. Koyoi quickened her pace. The moment she reached the crest, the world opened up. The view stretched out in three directions, with mountain ranges rolling away toward the southwest. Moonlight washed over the exposed bedrock, turning it a ghostly blue. Far below, she sensed the presence of a valley, though it was too dark to see the bottom.
Koyoi caught her breath and looked back.
She saw a light.
To the northeast, on the mountain slope, a white light was blinking. It wasn't just one—three, four, five lights were pulsing in a steady, rhythmic beat.
Koyoi gasped. It was that light—the one she had seen from the ridge before, blinking in the distance. It was closer now.
“...That.”
The pouch suddenly grew heavy.
“...The things... that measure.”
The voice of the Shrine god was trembling.
“...Run.”
The god of the Vacant Lot followed.
The lights were far off—two kilometers, maybe more—but they were fixed unmistakably in her direction. Koyoi stared at them. They blinked with a mechanical rhythm: two seconds on, one second off. It lacked the flickering, organic waver of a flame held by human hands. These were the lights of the Observers.
For a moment, she couldn't move. Watching the lights made her body freeze as terror crawled up from the soles of her feet.
“...Move,” the voice of the Shrine god called from inside the pouch. “...They are... watching.”
Those words snapped her back to reality. They were looking at her, trying to find her.
Koyoi scrambled away from the ridge, heading west toward the Boundary. Her legs moved as if by their own accord. As she hit the downward slope, the shadows of the trees returned. She looked back to see the lights still blinking through the gaps in the branches; they were supposed to be far away, yet they felt terrifyingly close.
She walked for ten minutes, then twenty, her breathing harsh and her legs shaking. She glanced back over her shoulder again and again. The lights had multiplied—what had been five was now six, then seven.
They were definitely gaining on her.
The lights looked larger now, the rhythm of their blinking sharper and more vivid. What had been distant foxfire now appeared as bright as hand-held lanterns.
“...Faster,” the pouch vibrated. “...They will... catch us.”
The voices of the gods were bordering on screams.
Koyoi broke into a run. She bolted down the dark mountain path, nearly tumbling over as branches lashed her face. She felt her ankles twist, but she didn't stop.
How long had she been running? Her lungs were burning, her side ached, and her throat was parched. Her legs were starting to refuse to obey.
She saw a massive rock—two boulders leaning against each other to form a hollow just large enough to hide a single person. Koyoi slid into the space and held her breath, curling her body into a ball as the chill of the stone seeped into her back.
For a while, she couldn't think. Only her ragged gasps echoed in the hollow, her heart hammering so hard it felt like it might break. As her sweat cooled, her back turned icy; she bit her lip to keep her teeth from chattering.
When her breathing settled slightly, she cautiously peered out through the gap in the rocks.
She saw the lights. They were close—so much closer than before.
They couldn't be more than a kilometer away. Seven lights moved in single file, blinking in perfect, rhythmic unison as they headed straight for her.
Koyoi stopped breathing and pressed the pouch against her chest. The gods were shivering, cold as ice.
“...Found,” a faint voice whispered. “...Measured,” said another.
The lights didn't stop. Slowly, but with absolute certainty, they drew nearer.
Koyoi curled tighter in the shadow of the rock. Even with her eyes closed, the white light pulsed against the back of her eyelids in that rhythmic blink. There was nowhere to hide. Behind her lay the dark forest; ahead of her, the lights of the Observers. She didn't know if she could outrun them, but she knew that if she stayed here, they would surely catch her.
“...I have to go.” Her own voice was trembling.
“...Yes.” “...Together.”
The gods answered in small voices.
Koyoi crawled out from the shadow of the rock and stood up on shaking legs. She faced the west and began to run.
Behind her, the lights continued to blink. Seven lights, moving steadily and inexorably toward her.