The rain did not give him a heads up. There was no gradual darkening of the sky. He couldn’t see any dark clouds forming. He also couldn’t hear the sound of distant rumbling. There was no cooling breeze that hinted at what was coming. One moment the forest stood thick and still around him. Next, the canopy above shuddered violently.

  Then the rain fell. It poured down violently and covered the forests in a sea of black, revolting liquid.

  The first impact struck the back of his hand.

  Grub flinched. As soon as just a drop touched him, his hand felt like it was burning. He winced and began to grab his affected hand. The main was sharp and immediate. Like being pricked by hundreds of fine needles at once.

  The second drop hit his cheek. Causing Grub to claw at his face as the rain tore through his skin.

  Then another droplet of rain hit him. And soon there were dozens.

  Within seconds the forest roared under the weight of it. The rain hammered the canopy so hard leaves bent under the assault. The sound was not soft. It was loud and violent. The symphony of constant metallic hisses layered over deep impacts.

  Grub began to move as quickly as he could. He couldn’t sprint. His body would not allow that. But he shifted direction immediately toward denser growth. Toward where branches overlapped thick enough to create shelter. The rain struck his neck and collar as he moved. Each droplet left behind a faint sting that lingered longer than it should have.

  His injured leg reacted first. Where the grub’s acid had scarred his calf, the rain felt hotter. The rain burned the already damaged tissue through the bandage causing an unusual feeling to flow through Grub’s body. His burn was being burned and that caused a feeling of pain unfamiliar to him. Grub couldn’t help but let out a yelp but that wasn’t the only pain the black rain caused him. The new claw marks along his ribs began to throb beneath the bandage. Despite his already broken ribs, the new marks didn’t struggle to find a way to cause him a different pain than his ribs already had.

  He angled toward a massive tree whose trunk split low before rising into a dense umbrella of overlapping branches. Beneath it, the rain thinned to scattered drops instead of sheets. He slipped beneath it and crouched low against the trunk.

  The bark was rough against his back. While the rain roared around him.

  It hit exposed roots with faint sizzling sounds. Where droplets struck dark soil, tiny curls of steam lifted for less than a second before vanishing. It wasn’t dramatic or instantly deadly but it was strange.

  Grub extended his hand slowly beyond the edge of the branch cover. A single drop struck his palm. Pain flared immediately. It wasn’t crippling pain but enough to remind him not to do that again.

  He withdrew his hand and pressed it against his coat and made a quick assessment.

  It would not melt him. But prolonged exposure would damage weakened skin. He adjusted his position so that the thickest branches shielded his head and torso. Still, stray drops found him. They slid along his jawline. Fell from leaf tips onto his neck. Slipped beneath the edge of his collar. Each one stung with the pain of a needle piercing skin. His ribs pulsed harder now as moisture seeped into cloth and pressed against healing cuts. He breathed slow and measured

  But then suddenly, while he focused on sheltering from the painful rain, he saw movement.

  It came from farther downslope. Through the curtain of rain. At first he thought it was another animal darting for cover. But the shape was wrong—it was upright and balanced.

  The figure moved in controlled bursts, not in panicked scrambling. It crossed a narrow clearing between trees and ducked beneath a stone outcrop several paces away. Grub stilled completely. He didn’t lean or shift. Only his eyes moved as he locked in on the new figure.

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  The rain distorted the view but not enough to hide the outline. It was tall and broad across the shoulders. A long tail trailing behind it, low and steady rather than flicking wildly. It was covered from head to toe in scales.

  The head was elongated, with a subtle ridge along the crown. The rain struck its body and rolled off in clean lines instead of soaking in. Armor covered its chest and shoulders — overlapping plates that caught faint light even through the downpour.

  Some sort of metal. Or a hardened shell. Hard to tell from here.

  The creature crouched beneath the rock overhang. It did not collapse into shelter the way an animal might. It positioned itself with its back toward the stone and its gaze angled outward toward the open forest.

  It was defensive and alert and its movements were economical. It adjusted a strap along its forearm. Flexed its clawed hand once. The tail curled partially around one leg instead of dragging loosely.

  Grub watched the details. The way it breathed—slow and controlled. The way its head moved—left, pause, right., pause. It then took an upward glance toward the rain. Its face bore an expression similar to annoyance. It seemed it had expected this. It had known to seek cover immediately.

  This was not instinct alone. No—it had to be a thought process. Interesting. The rain intensified briefly, striking armor with sharper tones than when it hit bark. A metallic percussion layered into the forest’s hiss.

  The creature did not flinch at the pain of it, but moved uncomfortably. So it hurt them too. Good to know.

  Grub shifted his weight slightly deeper into shadow. The rain masked smaller sounds. That worked in his favor. The heavy downpour created visual distortion between them. If the lizard looked directly toward him, it might see only the trunk and darkness.

  His injured leg began to pulse again. The reopened claw marks along his ribs burned steadily beneath soaked fabric. Water trickled beneath the bandage and settled against torn skin. He did his best to ignore it.

  Focus.

  The lizard reached up and wiped rain from its face with the back of its forearm. Its scales were darker than he first thought — deep green, nearly black in places. Faint lighter patterns ran along its neck and jawline.

  Its eyes were narrow—it was filled in with vertical pupils. Even in the dim rain light, they caught reflections easily. Its jaw shifted once as it assessed its situation. Grub studied its posture carefully. Weight balanced evenly between both legs. Not favoring one side. It had a weapon secured but accessible. He couldn’t tell what the weapon was though. But the metal shining near his hip was surely not its toy.

  The creature was alert, but not tense. Grub nodded in understanding—it was some sort of soldier.

  If it had armor then it had structure and if it had structure there was organization. Organization meant intelligence. Grubs thoughts began to run in excitement as he felt something stir in his chest. Not the weight of death that lived inside him. It wasn’t hunger. He felt overwhelming anticipation.

  He had followed prints for days. Faint compressions in dirt. Broken stems. A shaved marker stick. And now—he had proof. Living and breathing. Armed and real. There was another intelligent species in this world. That meant he could get answers. For a moment his mind drifted unwillingly.

  The ridge.

  How would they handle this rain? Would Wrighty stand in it too long just to prove he could? Would Gravel shout instructions like he could command the weather? Would Snow simply observe and adapt? Is Shiela safe? Would anyone realize it burned before skin blistered?

  Grub forced the thoughts away. They were all irrelevant. Just a distraction. His eyes sharpened again.

  The lizard shifted slightly, leaning forward to peer through the rain as if measuring distance to something unseen. It was not alone in this forest. If there was one— There would be more. Grub memorized everything. The creature’s height relative to stone. The length of its tail. Even the tiny patterns on its armor and the way it positioned its feet. If it moved again, he wanted to predict it.

  The rain continued to pour, hissing against bark and armor alike. It streamed down the creature’s scales in thin lines that gathered at the tip of its jaw before dripping to the ground. The world between them blurred and sharpened with each heavier sheet of rainfall. Grub did not blink.

  He made sure not to reveal himself. And let the rain burn his skin.

  He let his ribs ache. He let the sting settle into background noise. Because this was a discovery he couldn’t miss seeing even a second of. He had found it. He had finally found it—Intelligent life. And with that came the opportunity for answers. He had finally gotten closer to his goal after all this time.

  His eyes gleamed faintly in the dim storm-light as his eyes never let the creature. Even for a second.