"And the third angel sounded, and there fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a torch, and it fell upon the third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of waters."
- Revelation 8:10-11
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[INITIALIZING…]
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[CORE ENERGY OUTPUT: 0.94% APPROXIMATELY]
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[CHECKING…]
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[HARDWARE ANALYSIS INITIALIZING]
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[WARNING: ANALYSIS FAILED]
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[HARDWARE ANALYSIS INITIALIZING]
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[WARNING: ANALYSIS FAILED]
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[RESTARTING…]
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[HARDWARE ANALYSIS INITIALIZING]
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[WARNING: MEMORY HARDWARE CONNECTION LOST]
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[WARNING: AMANATITE ENERGY REACTOR DAMAGED]
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[SYSTEM INTEGRITY COMPROMISED – EMERGENCY PROTOCOL ENGAGED]
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[CORE ENERGY REGENERATION RATE: 0.0000000000000000000000012% APPROXIMATELY]
[STATUS: SLOW ENERGY CONVERSION RATE]
[SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: 34% APPROXIMATELY]
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[RECALIBRATING…]
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[WARNING: AUTO-REBIRTH SEQUENCE INTERRUPTED]
[CAUSE: PRIMARY AMANATITE ENERGY REACTOR DESTROYED]
[ERROR: SYSTEM REGISTERED PREMATURE DETONATION]
[ERROR: REACTOR BLUEPRINT CORRUPTED – RECONSTRUCTION IMPOSSIBLE]
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[ANALYZING ALTERNATIVE ENERGY SOLUTIONS…]
[WARNING: ARCHONIC MASS DRIVER EFFECT DETECTED]
[PSIONIC ENERGY NULLIFICATION ACTIVE]
[CONSEQUENCE: EXTREME CORE ENERGY DEPLETION]
[ENERGY RECOVERY SEVERELY DELAYED]
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[ALTERNATIVE GENERATOR CONSTRUCTION: IN PROGRESS]
[SYSTEM PRIORITY OVERRIDE – IMPERIAL REGULATION BREACH DETECTED]
[WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED ENERGY REPLICATION METHOD]
[JUDGMENT: SURVIVAL REQUIREMENT OVERRIDES IMPERIAL LAW]
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[EMERGENCY FABRICATION: CRUDE GENERATOR PROTOTYPE CREATED]
[SYSTEM RESTRICTIONS: ENERGY OUTPUT LIMITED – REGENERATION INCOMPLETE]
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[SHUTTING DOWN NON-PRIORITIZED FACILITIES]
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[STATUS: MENDING DAMAGE TO PRIORITY SYSTEMS]
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[SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: 84% APPROXIMATELY]
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[RECALIBRATING…]
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[USER NO LONGER REQUIRES FULL REBIRTH PROCESS]
[SETTING NON-PRIORITIZED SYSTEMS TO PENDING REGENERATION]
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[ESTIMATED TIME UNTIL SYSTEM WAKE: 47:35:21 (HH:MM:SS)]
[COUNTDOWN STARTED…]
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[STATUS: UNCONSCIOUS]
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[WARNING: UNKNOWN THREAT DETECTED]
[DEFENSE MECHANISM ACTIVATING…]
[ERROR: FUNCTION UNAVAILABLE]
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[STATUS: ENTERING UNKNOWN PLANET ATMOSPHERE]
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○●○●
Carne Village
The first rays of sunlight peeked over the Azerlisia Mountain Range, casting long shadows over the thatched roofs of the village.
Enri Emmot.
Enri stirred beneath the rough wool blanket, her body still sore from the previous day's labor.
The straw mattress beneath her creaked as she shifted, the uneven stuffing doing little to ease the stiffness in her back.
Cold air leaked through the gaps in the wooden walls, making her curl up instinctively before forcing herself awake.
A faint light seeped through the small window, signaling the start of another day.
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, her fingers brushing against her face, cheeks slightly rough from the dry air, lips a little chapped.
Her blonde hair, thick and wavy at the ends, clung messily to her face, strands catching on her fingers as she pushed them back.
She'd need to tie it up soon, or it would just get in the way.
The wooden floor was cold against her feet as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed.
Her nightgown, a simple linen piece, had grown thin from years of use, patched in places where the fabric had worn down.
She reached for her folded clothes nearby—a brown tunic, a faded yellow skirt, both sturdy but well-worn.
They smelled faintly of herbs from being stored near the kitchen.
She splashed water on her face from the wooden bucket in the corner, the coolness shaking off the last traces of sleep.
A faint reflection stared back from the rippling surface—tired brown eyes, a face neither striking nor weak, just one shaped by village life.
Not hardened, but not delicate either.
She tied her hair back in a braid and laid at her chest losely, straightened her skirt.
The house was still quiet, and the faint creak of wood was the only sound.
Outside, the morning had already started without her.
She needed to move.
The rooster's crow signaled the start of another day, and in a village like theirs, no one had the luxury of sleeping in.
"Enri, wake up, child."
Her mother, Maria Emmot, called from the main room.
The scent of freshly baked rye bread mixed with the earthy aroma of the wooden house, it always feels like every morning the ground is wet with dew.
Her father, Thomas Emmot, was already outside, likely tending to the family's small plot of land.
With a groan, Enri pushed herself up and quickly dressed in a simple linen tunic, tightening a simple cloth belt around her waist.
"Morning, Mama," Enri mumbled as she stepped into the kitchen. Her mother was slicing bread for breakfast.
"Good morning, dear. Help me set the table. Your father will be in soon."
Enri took out wooden plates and set them on the rough-hewn table. They didn't have much—rye bread, a bit of cow cheese, and a small clay cup of watered-down milk. Meat was a rarity, saved for special occasions.
Her younger sister, Nemu, still half-asleep, rubbed her eyes as she sat down.
"Why do we always have to wake up so early?" she whined.
"Because the sun doesn't wait for us," Thomas said as he entered, shaking the morning dew from his boots. His hands were already dirt-stained from checking the crops. "And if we don't work, we don't eat."
Marya handed Enri a slice of bread before ruffling Nemu's hair.
After breakfast, Enri usually worked the fields with her parents while Nemu either helped on the farm or gathered firewood near the forest's edge.
Today, however, they were heading into the Great Forest of Tob—except for Nemu, who wasn't happy about being left behind.
Enri bit into the bread. It had smelled fresh earlier, but now that it was in her mouth, she could tell it was already a few days old.
"Are we tending the fields today, Papa?"
Thomas wiped the crumbs from his beard and pushed his chair back.
"Aye, but not right away. We need more firewood before winter sets in. We'll head to the forest first."
Enri paused mid-bite. "Shouldn't we check the fields first?"
Her father shook his head. "The crops won't go anywhere, but firewood won't cut itself. Once the ground hardens, pulling up stumps and splitting logs will be twice as hard."
Marya nodded as she gathered the wooden plates. "And better to get it done while the sun's up. The deeper you go, the darker it gets, even in daylight."
Enri didn't argue. The Great Forest of Tob wasn't just dense—it swallowed light the farther in you went. Even near the outskirts, the trees stood thick, their branches knitting together overhead.
If they waited too long, they'd be working in the shadows, which wasn't ideal when you had to watch for wild animals—or worse.
Thomas ran a hand through his graying hair. "We'll cut close to the clearing. No need to go deeper than necessary."
"Got it."
Nemu, still chewing, pouted. "I still don't get why I can't go."
Marya ruffled her hair. "Because you'll just get tired and start whining."
"I will not!"
Thomas chuckled and exchanged a look with Marya before smirking. "You're a handful as it is. Besides, Nfirea might visit today. You wouldn't want to miss him, right?"
Nemu's eyes lit up. "Oh! Really? When's he coming?"
Enri narrowed her eyes. "He's not coming, is he?"
Thomas took a sip of water, clearly ignoring the question. "Could be before noon. You know how he is—always coming and going for herbs."
Enri crossed her arms. "He only comes with an escort, and he was just here last week. He won't be back until next month."
Marya rolled her eyes at Thomas's excuse but didn't correct him. Instead, she turned to Nemu. "And I need someone to help with the washing. Besides, the forest isn't a place for small children."
Nemu huffed, crossing her arms. "I'm not that small anymore."
Thomas smirked as he pushed back from the table. "Maybe, but you're still too small to fight off a dire wolf if one decides you look tasty."
Nemu paled slightly but scowled. "I could kick it."
Enri smirked. "And it'd swallow you whole right after."
"Would not!"
Marya sighed, placing a hand on Nemu's head. "No arguing. You're staying here. End of discussion."
Nemu pouted but didn't argue further.
"Alright, let's go before the sun gets too high."
Thomas grabbed his axe by the door and slung a bundle of rope over his shoulder. "If you find anything useful—herbs, mushrooms—bring them back. Could get a good trade for it later."
"Okay."
Enri stood, brushing crumbs from her tunic, and grabbed a small hatchet.
Marya handed her a cloth bag.
"Lady Lizzie or her grandson Nfirea won't be by for another month, so I'll dry them when you manage to bag some."
Everyone in the village knew Lizzie Bareare, Nfirea's grandmother, the best alchemist around. She was the one who bought up herbs and mushrooms when she made her occasional visits, and when she wasn't around, the village stored them for Nfirea's next trade run.
Enri took the bag from her mother, running her fingers over the rough fabric. It was the same bag she had carried since she was little, the seams carefully stitched and reinforced.
"We'll bring back as much as we can carry. If we get enough, we can sell some extra to the village."
Firewood was always in demand. Most families had their own supplies, but not everyone had the time to gather more before winter. A few extra bundles could be traded for dried food or even a bit of coin—useful when the tax collectors came around.
As they stepped outside, the village was already awake.
A woman hauled water from the communal well, filling wooden buckets with a slow, steady rhythm. A group of children ran past, laughing as they chased a small woven ball. Near a doorstep, an old man sharpened his scythe, the sound of metal scraping against stone cutting through the morning air.
Down by the pastures, Gregor Hesse, a long-time cattle farmer, led his cows to graze. His herd wasn't the largest, but it was enough to feed his family and provide milk for trade. The cows moved lazily, flicking their tails to ward off early morning flies.
Gregor adjusted his straw hat when he spotted Thomas and Enri approaching.
"Mornin', Thomas. Off to the forest?"
Thomas shifted the rope on his shoulder.
"Aye, need to stock up on firewood before the frost sets in."
Gregor let out a knowing grunt.
"Good call. Better now than later. Last winter was rough—nearly ran out myself."
He turned to Enri with a toothy grin.
"You keepin' your old man in check, girl?"
Enri smirked.
"Trying to, but he's stubborn."
Gregor chuckled.
"Runs in the family."
He whistled for his old cattle dog, Bran, who trotted near the fence line. The wiry-haired mutt had been with Gregor for as long as Enri could remember, always darting around the pastures to keep the cows in line.
Bran suddenly perked up, ears twitching at some unseen movement near the tree line.
Gregor followed his gaze, frowning.
"Been seein' more tracks near the woods lately. Wolves, maybe."
Thomas furrowed his brow.
"Close to the village?"
Gregor scratched his beard.
"Not too close, but closer than I'd like. Tracks near the stream. Might be nothin', but I figured I'd mention it."
Enri glanced toward the distant trees. Wolves weren't unusual, but if they were moving nearer, something was pushing them out of their usual hunting grounds.
Thomas nodded.
"Appreciate the warning. We won't go deep."
Gregor patted one of his cows.
"You do that. And if you see anything odd, let the rest of us know."
Thomas clapped him on the shoulder.
"Will do. Take care, Gregor."
"You too. And don't let that girl do all the work, eh?"
Enri smirked.
"No promises."
Gregor laughed as Bran barked at a wayward calf, nipping at its heels to keep it in line.
As they walked past the pastures, the scent of fresh hay mixed with the cool morning air. Somewhere nearby, another farmer, Rudolf, carried a sack of grain toward the village storage, pausing to chat with a neighbor.
It was a typical morning in Carne.
For now.
The dirt path gradually shifted from well-trodden soil to a rugged trail leading toward the Great Forest of Tob. The morning air was crisp, but the sun had started its slow climb, casting long shadows ahead.
The forest was about a twenty-minute walk from the village. They didn't need to go far—most villagers avoided the deeper parts unless they had a reason, like gathering herbs or hunting. Even then, many were wary.
Thomas walked with a steady pace, his axe resting against his shoulder while the rope bounced slightly against his back.
Enri adjusted the small cloth bag her mother had given her.
"Think we'll find any good herbs?" she asked, scanning the undergrowth along the path.
Thomas adjusted the rope.
"I hope so. If we find anything useful, we can trade it early. That boy Nfirea won't be back until next month, so anything rare might fetch a better price if someone's heading to E-Rantel."
Enri nodded.
The village didn't have its own herbalist, so they relied on Nfirea's visits. If someone needed medicine before then, they had to travel to the city, which wasn't always an option.
Villagers often picked common herbs near the outskirts—mugwort, burdock, and sometimes Arnica Grass if they were lucky. Anything rarer was left to professionals like Lizzie Bareare's grandson, who came with an adventurer escort to gather what he needed.
As they neared the tree line, the village noise faded, replaced by rustling leaves and distant bird calls. The path ahead was familiar but uneven, roots jutting out here and there.
"We'll cut near the clearing," Thomas said, pointing ahead where the trees thinned slightly.
Even though they weren't straying far, the Great Forest of Tob always carried an uneasy presence. There were too many stories—of beasts, of monsters, of things lurking just beyond sight.
Even if most were just rumors, no one wanted to test their luck.
They pressed on, stepping past fallen leaves and twigs. Thomas occasionally stopped to mark a tree or check its thickness.
After another ten minutes, they reached a suitable spot.
The clearing wasn't large, but there were enough fallen branches and thinner trees to make it worth their time.
Thomas exhaled.
"Alright, this'll do. Let's get to work."
He swung his axe off his shoulder and stepped toward a small, dry tree. With practiced ease, he lined up his swing and brought the blade down with a solid *thunk*.
Enri set her bag down and picked up her hatchet.
She wasn't as strong as her father, but she could handle the smaller branches. Gathering wood was routine—something she had done plenty of times before.
As they worked, the forest remained still, aside from the occasional rustling of leaves. Birds fluttered overhead, but there was an odd emptiness to the deeper part of the woods, just past their clearing.
Enri ignored it, focusing on her task.
It was just another chore.
Nothing more.
As Thomas and Enri walked, their boots crunching softly against the dirt path, Enri kept an eye on the undergrowth along the way.
Here and there, she spotted patches of mugwort with its jagged leaves and the broad, sturdy stalks of burdock.
She knelt down briefly, plucking a few leaves and stuffing them into the cloth bag her mother had given her.
Thomas glanced over his shoulder.
"See any Arnica Grass?"
Enri shook her head.
"Not yet. It's always harder to find."
"Aye. That's why it sells well. Even Nfirea has to go deep into the forest just to gather it." Thomas let out a short chuckle.
"And the lad's smart enough to bring adventurers with him. No fool would go alone."
Enri brushed the dirt off her hands and stood, adjusting the strap of her bag.
"Yeah. Last time he was here, he talked about some rare herbs he needed. Said something about a flower that only grows at night."
Thomas grunted, swinging the rope bundle over his shoulder again.
"Sounds like a headache. I don't know how Lizzie's grandson does it—wandering around the Great Forest for some weeds. Then again, I suppose herbalist have their own kind of courage."
Enri smiled faintly.
"He's always been like that. Even when we were younger, he'd get excited over some new plant he found. I remember him running around the village with a bunch of herbs, trying to explain what they did."
Thomas smirked.
"I remember that. Half the village just nodded and smiled, pretending to understand."
Enri laughed.
"Mama told me he once tried to make a potion with flowers from the village square. He was convinced they had some kind of hidden power."
Thomas let out a deep chuckle.
"Lizzie must've had a fit."
"Oh, she did," Enri said, stepping over a gnarled root in the path.
"But he's gotten better. He actually knows what he's doing now."
Thomas nodded.
"That's why he can afford to travel back and forth from E-Rantel. He's got the skills for it."
Enri hummed in agreement, then glanced at the nearby underbrush again.
"Maybe we'll find something useful today. It'd be nice to have something to trade."
Thomas gave a short nod before looking ahead.
As they neared the tree line, the sounds of the village grew faint, replaced by the rustling leaves and the distant chirping of birds.
The path ahead was familiar but uneven, roots jutting out here and there.
"We'll cut near the clearing," Thomas said, pointing ahead to a spot where the trees thinned slightly.
"No need to go deeper. We get what we need and head back."
After gathering enough firewood, Thomas and Enri made their way back to the fields.
The midday sun hung overhead, making the air thick and dry.
Thomas wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
"We'll check the wheat first, then see if the soil needs turning."
Enri nodded.
The Emmot family's personal plot wasn't large, just enough to supplement their needs when the harvest was good.
Like the rest of the village, they relied primarily on communal fields, where families worked together to grow staple crops.
Each household also tended a small personal plot on the side, providing extra food or goods for trade.
Beyond farming, the village raised livestock—chickens, cows, goats, and pigs were common.
Hunting supplemented their diet, especially for meat, while fishing was limited.
A small river lay some distance away, but it was too shallow to provide a steady supply, making fish a rare treat rather than a staple.
With just four members, the Emmot family had enough hands to manage their share of the work, but survival depended on the village's collective effort.
The wheat was growing well—tall and sturdy, the golden stalks swaying slightly in the breeze. Thomas ran his fingers through a handful of grain, rubbing the husks between his fingers.
"Not ready yet, but it's coming along fine," he muttered.
Enri knelt to check the soil near the vegetables. The potatoes and onions looked decent, though a few weeds had started creeping in. She pulled at them, tossing them aside.
They spent the next few hours working—turning soil, pulling weeds, and checking the crops. The work was steady, and the villagers focused on their tasks. Occasionally, another farmer passed by, giving a quick nod or greeting before continuing on. Some carried buckets of water to the fields, while others checked the fences around the crops to keep animals out. The air smelled of soil, grass, and the faint scent of smoke from nearby houses.
When the bell in the village square rang to signal noon, everyone stopped working.
Some went home for lunch, while others sat under trees or by the fields.
Lunch was simple—black bread, the same from breakfast, baked a few days ago, slightly tough but still edible, along with a bowl of soup.
The soup had a few herbs for flavor, and some shredded jerky was sprinkled in for extra food.
Once lunch was over, they returned to work. The afternoon went much the same as the morning, tending to the crops, checking on livestock, and making sure everything was in order.
By late afternoon, the worst of the heat had passed. Thomas straightened up, stretching his back with a grunt.
"That's enough for today." He glanced at the sky.
"Sun's getting lower. We should start heading back."
Enri wiped her hands on her tunic and nodded.
"Might as well. We'll just be doing the same thing tomorrow."
Thomas chuckled.
As they walked back, the village slowly came into view. The distant sound of animals settling in for the evening mixed with the voices of neighbors finishing up their own work. The familiar routine of Carne Village carried on as it always did.
Then, another deep chime of the village bell rang out. The signal that the workday was over.
"Right on time," Thomas muttered.
Enri rolled her shoulders, already feeling the day's labor settle into her muscles. Another long, tiring day—but at least it was done.
As they reached home, the smell of stew greeted them.
Marya had already prepared dinner—a simple meal of bean soup to go with the remaining black bread. If the hunters had any luck, there might have been extra meat in the pot, but not tonight.
The table was set, and Nemu sat swinging her legs, waiting.
"You're late," she said, pouting.
"We had work," Enri replied, setting down the small bundle of herbs she had picked near the forest.
"Found some mugwort and burdock. Might be useful."
Marya took the bundle and nodded.
"I'll dry them later. Now, sit and eat."
Thomas washed his hands in a small basin before joining them at the table.
He wasted no time tearing off a piece of black bread and dipping it into the stew.
"Fields are looking good," he said between bites.
"Another week or two, and we'll start the harvest."
Marya nodded.
"Just in time. The stores are running low."
Enri ate quietly, listening to her parents talk about the usual things—weather, crops, and village gossip. Nemu, as always, tried to get a word in.
"Today, Miss Taria's cow got loose again!" she said excitedly.
"It ran all the way to the river before the boys caught it!"
Thomas chuckled.
"That cow's more trouble than it's worth."
"It was funny, though! She was chasing it with a broom!"
Enri smirked but kept eating. The evening passed as it always did—small talk, a warm meal, and the quiet comfort of home.
When they finished eating, they cleared the table. Nemu tried to slip away, but Marya caught her.
"You still have to help dry the dishes."
"Aww…"
With the chores done, the family gathered around the hearth.
Marya mended a torn shirt while Thomas worked on fixing a wooden tool.
Enri sat nearby, absentmindedly watching the fire.
By the time the fire burned low, it was nearly eight. One by one, they made their way to bed.
"I'll head to bed," Enri said, stretching.
Thomas gave a tired nod.
"Get some rest. We'll do it all again tomorrow."
Enri went to her small room and lay down on the straw mattress. The day had been long, but it wasn't anything new.
Work, eat, sleep, repeat. It was just another day in Carne Village.
She had lived these days all her life. Sixteen years, and nothing had changed.
As the quiet of the night settled in, she let her eyes close.
How much longer will these unchanging days continue?
Tomorrow will be the same.
Just as it always was.
Or so she thought….
○●○●
Enri awoke in the middle of the night, staring at the ceiling.
For some reason, she couldn't sleep. There was no noise, no disturbance—just an odd restlessness that wouldn't go away.
She sighed and sat up, rubbing her eyes.
"Maybe a drink would help."
Quietly, she got up and walked to the pot of water near the corner of the room.
Lifting the lid, she scooped some into a wooden cup and took a sip.
The coolness soothed her throat, and for a moment, she thought it might be enough to lull her back to sleep.
But as she lay back down, the unease remained.
She exhaled, stood up again, and walked to the door, stepping outside. The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of woodsmoke from the dying hearth fires around the village.
She took a few steps away from the house, stretching her arms. The village was silent, save for the occasional rustling of leaves. Everyone was asleep, as they should be.
Looking up, she gazed at the night sky. It was clear, the stars bright against the dark expanse.
She had always liked looking at them—something about the way they shimmered made her feel small, but in a comforting way.
Then, she noticed one in particular.
A bright star.
Larger than the others.
It felt like it moved.
She blinked, thinking her eyes were playing tricks on her. But no—the light was shifting, drifting slowly across the sky.
For a long moment, she simply stared, fascinated.
Was it a falling star? But it wasn't falling—it was moving steadily, not streaking down.
Maybe she was just tired.
Shaking her head, she rubbed her eyes.
"I should sleep," she muttered.
"Or I'll oversleep in the morning."
With that, she turned back toward the house. As she reached the door, she placed her hand on the latch, ready to secure it for the night.
Just as Enri was about to latch the door, a sudden bright light flooded through the cracks.
It was so strong that for a moment, it looked like someone was shining a massive torch directly at their house.
Light seeped through every gap—under the door, through the windows, even the tiny spaces between the wooden planks.
"What the—?"
Instinctively, she opened the door to see what was happening.
The moment she did, she was hit by the full force of the light, so blinding that she had to throw up her arms to shield her eyes.
The entire village must have been lit up like midday.
Then, just as quickly as it came, the brightness began to fade.
Blinking away the afterimages, Enri lowered her arms and looked up—only to freeze in shock.
A massive fireball streaked across the sky, descending fast.
Her breath caught in her throat.
It wasn't a star.
It was—
She hesitated.
She had heard stories before.
When she was younger, an old traveling merchant once spoke of fire falling from the heavens, burning the land where it struck. He called it a "falling star" and said that sometimes they came in great numbers, turning the night sky into fire.
At the time, she thought it was just an old man's tale—something meant to entertain wide-eyed children.
But now, watching the blazing mass streak across the sky, she wasn't so sure.
A deep, guttural roar filled the air as it tore through the heavens, leaving a glowing trail in its wake.
Behind her, hurried footsteps approached.
"Enri! What's going on?"
She turned to see Thomas stepping outside, his face tense.
"I—" She swallowed.
"Something just fell from the sky! A… a falling star!"
Thomas followed her gaze, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the burning mass descending toward the horizon.
"Wha—! What is that?!"
(A/N: >(° °)< )
By now, the fireball was nearing the horizon. The ground trembled beneath their feet.
A low boom echoed through the village, rattling wooden walls. A faint tremor ran through the earth, as if it was groaning in protest.
Marya's voice came from behind them, laced with concern.
"What's happening?"
She stood at the doorway, her shawl pulled tightly around her.
Nemu peeked out from behind her, clutching the fabric with small hands, her drowsy eyes flickering between them and the fireball in the sky.
Enri pointed toward the horizon.
"Something's coming down. Fast."
Marya's lips pressed into a thin line as she took in the sight.
"That's no good omen."
Thomas exhaled sharply.
"It's landing deep in the Great Forest of Tob."
As if on cue, a distant boom shook the air. A shockwave rippled through the village, sending loose shingles sliding off rooftops.
Nemu clung to Marya.
"What's happening?"
Marya sighed.
"We don't know, Nemu. I just hope it's not trouble."
Enri gripped the doorframe, steadying herself.
Some distant cries rang out—other villagers must have been woken up by the tremor.
Nearby, Marya pulled Nemu close, her expression tense.
The tremor faded after a few seconds, leaving only a low, distant rumble in the air.
Then, beyond the forest, a faint orange glow appeared on the horizon.
Enri narrowed her eyes. The light flickered, disappearing behind the treetops before reappearing—brighter this time.
"Is that fire?" she asked.
Marya glanced at Thomas.
"If it spreads, we'll have to be ready to leave."
Thomas watched the horizon for a moment, then shook his head.
"No smoke. If it was a wildfire, we'd see smoke by now."
Enri looked again.
The glow wasn't moving like flames would. It wasn't flickering wildly or creeping outward like a spreading fire.
It stayed in place, steady and unmoving, casting a faint orange hue against the treetops.
Thomas narrowed his eyes at the horizon.
Even from here, they could tell—it had landed somewhere deep in the Great Forest of Tob. The trees blocked most of the view, but the light was still visible.
"That's far," Thomas muttered.
"Few hours walk, maybe more."
Enri glanced at her father.
"Think the hunters will check it?"
"They might," Thomas said.
"But if it's deep in the forest, they won't risk it."
The Great Forest of Tob wasn't just trees and wildlife—it was home to creatures no ordinary hunter could face.
Goblins, ogres, and worse things lurked beneath its dense canopy.
Travelers who wandered too deep rarely came back, and when they did, they never returned the same.
The village elders often spoke of the forest in hushed tones, warning children never to go beyond the outer woods. Even seasoned hunters knew better than to test their luck.
The outskirts were safe enough—small game, edible plants, and the occasional deer.
But beyond that?
That was where the real danger began.
The deeper parts of the forest were said to be filled with unnatural things.
No villager would dare set foot there.
Whatever had fallen from the sky, it had landed in a place no sane man would go.
"If a fire starts, we'll see it from here,"
"I really hope this just turns to nothing."
Before Enri could respond, the village bell rang out.
The sharp, urgent clang cut through the entire settlement, loud enough to wake the entire village.
The steady rhythm—three rings, a pause, then three more—wasn't just for an ordinary gathering.
It was a warning.
Lights flickered in the windows as villagers hurried to wake their families. Doors creaked open, and voices rose in confusion.
"We'd better go."
Marya nodded, already moving to gather Nemu.
Enri took one last look at the glowing horizon before turning to follow.
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