The third hunter was the youngest, barely twenty, by the look of him, with wild copper hair and a longbow slung across his back nearly as tall as he was. His eyes gleamed with curiosity.

"Uh, hi. I'm Ren. I—uh—was told I'd be assisting with field mapping and reconnaissance."

Lucen tilted his head. "First time off the mainland?"

Ren hesitated. "…Is it that obvious?"

"Only completely."

Varik spoke before the kid could get more flustered. "They're under your observation for today. I want your assessment by evening."

Lucen blinked. "Wait—my what?"

Varik didn't stop walking. "Consider it payment for your vacation."

"Unbelievable," Lucen muttered, watching the man disappear toward the tower. "He weaponizes chores."

Orren crossed his arms. "So what do we do, boss?"

"Don't call me that." Lucen sighed. "We're just running drills. Sparring, mana focus, anomaly reaction tests. Nothing fancy. If you break something, fix it. If you die, don't."

Ren blinked. "That's… your safety briefing?"

"More of a suggestion."

Talia smirked faintly. "I like him."

Lucen clapped his hands once. "Good. Let's see what you've got, then."

Two hours later, Lucen had learned three things.

One: Orren didn't know the meaning of restraint. Every sparring partner ended up buried halfway in the sand or gasping for air.

Two: Talia moved like water, quiet, precise, but every attack she landed carried intent to maim.

Three: Ren had potential, raw, unrefined, but there was something about the way he read the field. His mana sense was sharp, unnaturally so for his level.

Lucen leaned against the railing again, watching them go through the drills. The sun had climbed high, glinting off the waves.

'They're green, but not hopeless,' he thought, half-smiling. 'Guess Varik's idea of a break is making me babysit rookies.'

Down in the ring, Garrik shouted encouragements loud enough to shake birds from trees. Rynn loosed arrows alongside Ren, correcting his posture in between shots.

Kale occasionally appeared mid-spar, scared someone, and vanished again.

It was chaos. Loud, alive, almost human.

Lucen found himself exhaling slowly.

'Weird,' he thought. 'Almost feels like… normal life.'

A soft ping flickered in his vision:

[Passive Stabilization Achieved.]

[Corruption reduced: 2.3%]

[System Note: Emotional equilibrium detected.]

Lucen blinked once. Then smirked.

'Emotional equilibrium, huh? Didn't think watching idiots fall over counted as therapy.'

But he didn't dismiss the window right away. For the first time in months, he felt something settle inside him, not peace exactly, but balance.

Maybe this island wasn't such a waste of time after all.

He closed his eyes, letting the sound of the sea fill the quiet.

'Yeah,' he thought. 'Maybe I'll stick around a while longer.'

—

The next morning came slow, pale dawn seeping over the island, mist curling across the training field like breath from something half asleep. Lucen was already awake, sitting cross-legged near the edge of the ring, mug of bitter tea in one hand.

He wasn't meditating. He didn't really do "meditation." He was just thinking. Watching mana flow in the air. It drifted like faint threads between the palms, catching light, harmless. Peaceful, but not quite still.

He could feel it, a pulse under the island's rhythm. Something faint, buried deep.

'Huh,' he thought. 'Either the ground's humming, or I'm hearing things again.'

Footsteps crunched behind him. Orren's voice, gruff but good-natured: "You up before sunrise? Didn't take you for the disciplined type."

Lucen didn't look back. "I'm not. Just couldn't sleep. The sea's too quiet."

"Too quiet?"

"Means something's thinking about eating us."

Orren grunted. "Cheery thought."

"Just practical."

The rest of the team filtered in not long after. Rynn and Kale were already trading light banter; Talia was stretching, blades resting across her knees. Ren, half-awake, nearly tripped over a training spear.

Lucen stood, dusted sand from his hands, and clapped once. "Alright. Yesterday you didn't die. That's progress. Today we try to see what your anomalies actually do."

Ren blinked. "Anomalies? You mean—"

"The part of you that shouldn't exist but does. Everyone's got one."

Orren rolled his shoulders. "Mine's easy. I can anchor mana fields. Push, pull, make gravity behave."

"Yeah, I noticed when you turned the arena into a crater yesterday," Lucen muttered. "You'll learn to dial that down."

Talia's gaze sharpened. "I can duplicate motion. If I throw one dagger, I can make it split, reflect the trajectory. Costs a lot, though."

Lucen nodded. "Control's good. Keep it."

Ren hesitated. "I… don't know mine."

"Perfect," Lucen said. "We'll find out the fun way."

By mid-morning, the field buzzed with layered energy. Runes hummed beneath the sand, containment seals reactivated from old training days. Lucen watched from the center, hands clasped behind his back.

"Alright. Start small. Manifest mana at the edge of your control. Don't fight it, let it show you how it wants to move."

Orren went first. He spread his arms, runes on his skin flaring gold. The air thickened; sand flattened in a perfect circle around him. The ground groaned, heavy as lead.

Lucen nodded. "Good. You're not dragging the field this time."

"I'm learning."

Rynn called from the sideline, "For once!"

Orren shot her a glare that could crack boulders.

Talia moved next. She flicked a dagger forward, it spun once, then fractured into four perfect reflections, each carving a clean arc through the air before returning. Lucen's eyes followed the lines. The mana behind them shimmered faintly blue, like ripples in water.

"Precision's still sharp," he said. "Now do it without killing your own stamina."

She smirked. "You sound like Varik."

"Insult me again and I'll start charging for lessons."

Then came Ren. The boy stood awkwardly, eyes darting between them. "I—I don't really know how to start."

Lucen sighed, stepping closer. "You don't start. You react."

He pointed to the far side of the field where Kale had appeared silently, grinning. "Kale, throw something at him."

Kale shrugged, flicked his wrist, and a shard of condensed mana zipped toward Ren.

Ren flinched, then the shard bent in mid-air, curving around him like it had hit an invisible wall.

Everyone froze.

Lucen's brows lifted. "There it is."

Ren blinked, trembling. "What… was that?"

"Spatial distortion," Lucen said, circling him slowly. "You bend trajectory unconsciously. Reflexive anomaly."

Orren whistled low. "That's rare."

Lucen smirked faintly. "Useful, too. You could redirect projectiles, warp kinetic flow. Dangerous if you lose control, though."

Ren swallowed. "So… practice?"

Lucen clapped him on the shoulder. "Exactly. Before it practices you."

Hours passed. The team cycled through drills, sweat soaking the sand. Lucen watched every motion, correcting form, calling out mistakes, giving sharp, clipped feedback.

He wasn't exactly gentle, but he wasn't cruel either. His words carried the kind of dry patience that came from someone who'd seen far too much and survived it anyway.

"Ren, you're hesitating again."

"I know—"

"Then stop knowing and start moving."

"Garrik!"

"What?"

"Your shield swing has more air resistance than a barn door."

"Rynn, breathe. You're not sniping gods; you're training."

Eventually, the group collapsed near the edge of the field, panting. Lucen stood alone, still watching the sea.

Something about it bothered him. The horizon shimmered faintly, mana distortion, subtle but present.

Kale appeared beside him, arms crossed. "You see it too?"

"Yeah."

"Think it's another drift?"

"Maybe. Or maybe the island's heartbeat's changing."

Kale frowned. "That supposed to be poetic or a warning?"

"Both."

A soft wind rolled through the trees. For a second, the air thickened, just a tremor, almost imperceptible, but enough to make the sand shift.

Lucen's eyes narrowed. The others hadn't noticed yet. Rynn was laughing at something Ren said; Orren and Talia were arguing about tactics.

'Not now,' Lucen thought. 'We just got some peace.'

He pushed a little of his own mana outward, tracing the field lines. The pulse came again, deeper, rhythmic, coming from beneath the island's core.

[System Alert: Mana density fluctuation detected.]

[Origin: Subsurface rift layer.]

Lucen exhaled. "Of course it's the rift layer."

Kale's expression hardened. "You want to tell Varik?"

"Not yet. Let's confirm it first."

"Confirm how?"

Lucen looked down at the faint cracks forming in the sand where Orren had trained earlier. Threads of black-blue light pulsed through them, not dangerous yet, but alive.

He smiled without humor. "We dig."

By evening, the training ground was half-converted into a makeshift survey site. Varik returned just in time to see Lucen and Kale knee-deep in a shallow pit while Rynn held a glowing map rune above them.

"What," Varik said flatly, "are you doing."

"Fieldwork," Lucen answered. "Turns out your paradise has a heartbeat."

Varik's gaze flicked to the faint shimmer leaking through the sand. He crouched beside them, fingers brushing the air. His eyes narrowed.

"That's not natural flow."

"Yeah," Lucen said. "I noticed."

The pulse came again, stronger this time. The air rippled, and for a heartbeat the entire field dimmed.

Ren stumbled back. "What was that?"

Orren raised his shield instinctively. "Feels like… something moving underneath."

Varik stood. "Everyone out of the ring."

Lucen stayed where he was, eyes locked on the glow beneath the sand.

"Lucen," Varik warned.

"I know. I'm just—" he paused as the ground shifted again, this time almost like it breathed, in, out, slow. "—making sure I'm not crazy."

He reached out, letting a trickle of mana seep into the soil. For a moment, he felt it, a vast presence buried deep, ancient and half-asleep, thrumming through the island's bones.

[System Warning: Unknown entity resonance detected.]

[Designation: 'Lament Node' – dormant.]

Lucen withdrew his hand slowly. His pulse matched the rhythm.

Varik's tone went low. "You touched it."

Lucen looked up, expression unreadable. "Yeah. And it touched back."

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