"Every bone half-buried on the battlefield was picked clean long ago, but still, crows land on them. At least… They look like crows from afar. Do you get closer? What do you see?"

✦

Gauss moved cautiously across the battlefield, his sharp eyes scanning the desolate expanse. Bones jutted from the earth like jagged teeth, their surfaces bleached and brittle from years of exposure. The Moor of Sleep stretched endlessly, shrouded in mist, the silence broken only by the occasional flutter of wings.

Ahead, a cluster of dark shapes perched atop a mound of bones, their silhouettes sharp and unmoving against the gray sky. They looked like crows, their hunched forms and pointed beaks a familiar sight in such grim surroundings. But something about them unsettled Gauss. They were too still, too deliberate in their positioning.

“What’s the hold-up?” Tyffyn’s voice broke the quiet, her steps crunching against the soft ground as she caught up to him. She followed his gaze, her ears flicking back. “Crows? They’re just scavengers.”

“No,” Gauss said, his voice low. “Not crows.”

Tyffyn frowned, squinting at the shapes. “They look like—”

“They’re not,” Gauss cut her off, stepping forward, his movements deliberate. “Stay here.”

He approached slowly, his hooves sinking into the damp earth with each step. The closer he got, the more wrong the shapes appeared. Their wings were angular, almost skeletal, with faint, unnatural glimmers running along their edges. The beaks, sharp and jagged, were made not of keratin but of something... sharper. And their eyes—cold, glowing orbs that followed his every movement—were not of any living creature.

Gauss stopped a safe distance away, his instincts screaming at him to keep his guard up. The creatures remained motionless, perched atop the mound like sentinels. One shifted slightly, its wings clinking softly as though made of brittle iron.

“Constructs,” he muttered under his breath, the realization settling in like a heavy weight. He’d seen things like this before in the dungeons, ancient remnants of lost civilizations. They were often guardians, programmed to protect something… or someone.

“What do you see?” Tyffyn called, her voice tinged with nervous curiosity. She crept closer despite his earlier command, her eyes widening as she caught sight of the creatures. “Those aren’t birds.”

“They’re watchers,” Gauss said, stepping back toward her without turning his back on the constructs. “Left here to guard whatever lies beneath.”

Tyffyn’s tail flicked nervously. “So… what do we do? Leave them alone, right? That’s the smart move.”

Gauss nodded, his jaw tightening. “Smartest thing you’ve said all day.”

As they backed away, the constructs didn’t follow. Their glowing eyes tracked them until the mist swallowed their retreating forms. Whatever secrets the battlefield held, Gauss had no intention of disturbing them—not today.