After the mimic had been destroyed, silence hung over the group like a burial shroud.
They had always known the Twelfth Gate would challenge them.
But this was different.
This was personal.
The enemy had worn their face. Spoken in their voice. Almost passed as one of them.
They couldn't trust the world.
Now they couldn't fully trust each other.
Ren broke the silence first.
"From now on, every fifteen minutes we do a call sign check."
He reached into his satchel and pulled out a chalk rune disc, quickly drawing a symbol into the air: a triangle intersected with a broken line.
"This is mine. If you see me and I don't respond with this rune, you kill it."
Varen growled, gripping his halberd tighter. "No hesitation next time. I held back. That's on me."
Sorien adjusted the runes on his sleeve. "We should ward ourselves individually. An aura signature. Unique to each of us."
Calla nodded. "But that won't matter if they learn to copy that too."
