The cave was still smoldering when we returned.
Ash clung to the burrow walls in curling streaks. Beneath the surface, nothing lived. No corpses. No blood. Only fragmented shells and scorched ruin.
It seemed that Kaldrith, during his evolution, had blown everything away.
A shallow crater marked the epicenter, blackened and glassed over.
There was no trace left of what had been here.
Except one thing. At the very center—embedded like a tooth in the earth—sat an object.
White. Almost too white for this terrain. Angular. Uneven, like fractured stone forced back together. It pulsed faintly every few seconds.
Not with life. With something else. A kind of pressure.
Joy slowed as she approached it. "System's not identifying it."
"Doesn't mean it's clean," Eitan muttered.
He didn't touch it.
Neither did I.
It didn't radiate heat. Didn't hum with mana. It just was. A presence without signature. A question mark wedged into the world like it had been dropped from elsewhere.
"Could that have triggered the evolution?" Joy asked.
"Not triggered," Eitan replied. "Accelerated. Something like that doesn't give power. It forces it."
Eitan had a way of knowing these things.
Maybe it was a trait. Or just experience.
I didn't ask. He gave me the respect not to pry into my silence—I offered him the same.
I stared at the stone, watching its pulse. Whatever it was, it didn't belong in the Saharan Waste. It didn't belong on this continent.
It wasn't divine. It wasn't Primordial. It felt… manmade.
I stepped closer and picked it up carefully.
Nothing happened.
"Whatever it is," I said, "we should probably return it to Vandrelis."
Eitan nodded. "Yeah. He's right. If it's inert and we don't have the tools here, that's the right call."
I handed it to him, and he slid it into his pack.
He was hurt from the battle. But he hadn't mentioned it.
A Gold Sigil—strong. And from what I'd seen, he only had an Ashen-tier skill. Unless there was more to it.
Hidden utility. Passive modifiers. Things I couldn't see.
But he made it work. I respected that.
Calen spoke up, shifting his stance. "When's our next extraction window? And… did the pilot make it? I didn't see him after we dropped."
Joy's voice was quiet. Cold, but not without feeling.
"No. He died. Body was split in half. He wasn't awakened. He couldn't survive that."
Eitan spoke next. His voice didn't waver—low and proud.
"He'll be mourned. A brave man, to fly into this hell for our sake. One worthy of respect."
A brief silence followed. Then Eitan checked his device.
"Signal's back. Extraction in three minutes. Let's move—no point making them wait."
We made our way to the aircraft.
There were still questions I wanted to ask Joy.
She had told me her designation once—but never used it. Never referenced it again. Whatever her ability was, I assumed it wasn't something you brought out in a team setting.
We reached the ridge. The aircraft was already waiting. This one was pilotless—an XML model.
Sleek. Camouflage-equipped. Designed for speed over storage. A fast response unit.
Not much space inside. But enough.
We boarded in silence.
On the way back, I saw it on Eitan's face. A flicker of thought he couldn't quite hide.
He wanted to ask something. For the first time, he was visibly curious.
He'd always been kind to us—measured, but respectful—so I gave him the opening.
"Go for it," I said. "I don't bite. Not all the time."
Not sure if it landed. Just wanted to let him know it was okay.
He smiled, a little sheepish.
"Ah… I never had a good poker face. I was going to ask—both of you—if you'd consider joining us. Joy and I have been doing this for a while now. After this find… we're all but guaranteed promotion."
He looked between us.
"In the Sovereign Accord, there are no guilds. No formal branches. Those structures monopolized the old world. Now it's all teams—small, focused. Mercenary groups. Independent squads."
Smaller. But more effective.
He wasn't wrong.
Calen blinked, then straightened a little. "You're serious?" he asked, looking between Eitan and Joy.
Joy gave the faintest nod. Eitan just waited.
Calen exhaled—then grinned. It wasn't cocky. Just relieved. Grateful.
"I'd be honored," he said. "Seriously. I didn't think I'd even make it through this expedition. But if you're offering... yeah. I'm in."
He held out his hand, awkward but sincere.
Eitan shook it once, firm.
"You've got potential," he said. "More than you think. We'll help shape it."
Joy finally spoke. "Just don't die."
Calen laughed, but it faded quickly. He understood it wasn't a joke.
"I won't."
Then their gaze turned to me.
I met it without hesitation.
"I won't sugarcoat it," I said. My tone wasn't sharp—just firm. Clear. "I think I'm more fit for going alone."
Joy didn't react. Calen looked surprised, but not offended. Eitan just listened.
"I've spent... a long time fighting by myself. That's where I function best. And if something like last time happens again—"
I paused.
"—then there's no risk. No collateral. Just me."
I leaned back against the seat, resting the katana on my lap.
"The first time, I had to go with a team. Iron Sigil protocol. After the promotion, I want to see what I can do on my own."
There was silence for a moment. Not heavy. Just... understanding.
Eitan nodded slowly.
"I respect that," he said. "But the offer stands."
Joy didn't say anything. Just looked at me with that unreadable gaze of hers.
Calen leaned forward slightly. "Still… it'd be good to cross paths again."
I gave a small nod. Not a promise. Just acknowledgment.
Then the engine hum shifted. The aircraft tilted into descent.
The first expedition was over. I should've felt relief. Closure. Something.
But all I wanted—
Was another fight.
Kaldrith had been a glimpse. A hint. And I could feel it—deep in my core—my stats had risen. Not just in number. In presence. I was growing. The next one would be stronger.
I would fight, regardless of what the consequences were.