Day two was nearing its end.
We were scouting for a place to sleep when Thalia spoke.
"Multiple footsteps. Less than a quarter mile out."
Calixtus added, "Most likely another team. Hopefully."
A bit early to run into others. But not a problem, regardless.
We stayed half-concealed behind the treeline until they stepped into view. Three figures.
Marcus, of House Dravon, walked in front. Tall. Broad. Heavy-footed. He didn't bother suppressing his mana—didn't need to. In contrast to the brawler's frame, his Seed was Regeneration. Could boost his own healing or patch up allies.
To his left, Nerissa, of House Callidora. Lean build. Sharp eyes. She carried herself like a knife tucked into silk. Her Seed was Smoke—good for escapes, deception, maybe assassination.
Flanking the rear was Orin, of House Thevas. Blonde. Quiet. Didn't even glance our way.
Thalia whispered beside me, "They're one short."
"Noticed," I murmured back.
When Marcus saw us, he raised a hand. Calm. Not hostile. Just an acknowledgment.
We stepped out. No one spoke at first—just gear rustling and boots pressing into damp leaves.
Then,
"Kaelen," Marcus said with a nod.
"Marcus."
His gaze scanned the rest of us. "You've still got four."
I didn't answer. He could count.
Nerissa folded her arms. "Before you ask—Selene walked off on day one. Said she worked better alone."
Calixtus let out a short breath. "She always was a charmer."
"I doubt she's dead," Marcus muttered, eyes on the ground.
"We'll see," Nerissa replied.
"She's not coming back, that's for sure," he snapped, a bit of anger leaving his voice.
Eleanor, curiously. "You just let her go?"
"She wasn't looking for permission," Nerissa said. "Had her own plans."
Figures. Selene Maroveth never cared for collaboration. Arrogance wasn't rare at the Institution. Selene's? It ran deeper. She had talent. But she was overhyped. Going solo in the Veiled Forest?
Bold.
"We were about to set camp," I said, keeping it casual.
An indirect offer. Marcus didn't hesitate.
"We accept."
Made sense.
Nerissa jerked her head toward the east. "There's a pond over there. Looks harmless enough."
Perfect.
As we began setting up camp, I motioned for Calixtus to come with me.
"We'll get water," I said.
He didn't argue.
The pond wasn't far—still within sight of the others, half-silver under the dying light. We made some rough-looking canteens from nearby wood.
Calixtus crouched by the edge, cupped some water, let it run between his fingers. Then, without looking at me, he spoke.
"…Conversations like this usually aren't something we do well at the facility."
I looked down at him.
"But, what I wanted to say was, thanks. For taking the lead. I—no, we—appreciate it."
I didn't respond right away. He wasn't joking. Wasn't deflecting with sarcasm. That alone was worth noting.
I picked up a flat stone and skipped it once, just to kill the silence.
"Wasn't doing it for appreciation," I said.
Calixtus smirked faintly. "Of course not. Still. It helps."
We filled the canteens without another word.
We returned to camp as dusk folded into night. The others had already sparked a low fire—small enough not to draw attention, warm enough to keep the edge off the chill. Two logs had been rolled into rough seating around it.
The teams didn't mix. We sat across from each other—familiar, but still divided. No unnecessary conversation. Everyone was conserving energy.
Thalia took first watch. Nerissa did the same for their side, perched silently on a thick root, eyes steady through the smoke.
I drifted into light sleep—not deep enough to be unaware, not shallow enough to be restless.
And sometime past midnight—
The tone shifted.
The fire was dying low, but there was just enough glow to make out movement. Nerissa had already risen.
Then the sound came. A dry scraping. Like bone against bark. Not loud. But weird.
Marcus rose next—turning toward the trees with the calm of someone used to waking in the middle of battle.
I stayed where I was. So did the others. Not out of laziness. But to watch. To see how Team Four moved.
A blur flashed from the trees. Low to the ground. Multi-legged. Lanky. A crawler, of some kind. Fast. Low armor. High aggression. Attacks in erratic bursts.
Marcus took the hit first, deliberately. It slammed into him, claws tearing at his side—only to rebound against his flesh. His Seed kicked in, skin knitting itself shut even as blood spilled. He didn't flinch.
He grabbed the crawler by the torso and slammed it into the dirt. Hard.
Nerissa had already vanished into smoke. A pulse of gray hissed from the ground behind the crawler—then she emerged mid-step, using her palm on the neck of the creature, killing it on the spot. Clean. Precise.
The crawler twisted, letting out a shriek like broken glass, just before a shadow passed overhead. Marcus shoulder-bashed it into a tree with enormous strength. The creature went still.
They waited. More came. Two. Then four. Then more.
I didn't rise. Calixtus stirred beside me, but I motioned for him to stay.
"Watch," I whispered.
He hesitated—but obeyed.
Marcus took hits—broke bones—regenerated. Nerissa flickered like wind through smoke, never in the same place twice. Her attacks were surgical. Every strike was terminal. No excess motion. No wasted energy.
When the last crawler dropped...
The forest quieted again. Blood steamed against the dirt.
Marcus exhaled. Then turned, not quite looking at me—but close enough.
"Next time," he said flatly, voice like gravel, "you lot can take the night shift."
A beat passed.
"Only fair."
Then sat back down. No celebration. No drama. Just soldiers doing their job.
Orin slept through it all. A shame, as he was the one I wanted to see fight the most.
Eleanor leaned close. "Efficient."
I nodded once.
Then closed my eyes again. We'd seen enough.
The Veiled Forest had its own kind of glow. A soft, bioluminescent pulse that shimmered from root-veins and low vines—just enough to keep the dark from being absolute.
We were used to it. But this—
This wasn't part of it.
A beam of pure white light fell through the trees like a blade. It cut through the mist and hit the ground in the dead center of camp.
No source we could see. No warmth. Just there.
Everyone turned to look. No one spoke.
It wasn't moonlight.
And it was looking right at us.