25 – Stalking the RiftHector crept along the wet, stony ridge, peering down the long, rain-slick slope. According to Evie, he was five klicks east of the cave where he’d left his companions, and he’d come to the last line of stony outcroppings. Below him, a vast, open plain stretched, stony and almost barren of vegetation. Pools of rain stood in hollows, reflecting the anemic sunlight filtering through the dense clouds. The nearest one, maybe fifty meters down the slope, rippled as something crawled out of it.The reason Hector was there, the reason he’d been sneaking through the jagged hills, was that he’d felt the distant pull of the rift. He wasn’t certain; it could be something less powerful, but closer—a pack of reapers, or maybe a hook titan.Or something else I don’t know shit about.//You’ve experienced most of the biomes on this planet.//Come on, Evie; my total time on this world can be measured in a handful of months. You think I’ve seen everything it has to offer?//No, of course not.//The pull felt stronger there, and it still felt distant, so he was hopeful that he was on the right track. Still, as the rain let up, he’d encouraged Paige to use the drone to scout in other directions—just in case.He watched the creature emerge from the pool. It was a quadruped with a long, spined tail and a pointed, fleshy face—spine thrasher. Why the hell was it in the pool?//When they get separated from the matriarch—the spine-bag—they often build traps to feed; the long snout allows it to lie submerged while it awaits prey.//Hector grunted. He felt like he should know that, but in his old life he’d visited rifts with the Invicti, and his job had been to kill things, not scout—not speculate on rift denizen behavioral patterns. Why wasn’t I more curious back then? Evie remained quiet, aware that he was just thinking. (...)