Raif stood alone beside the orb, the morning light slanting low through the trees. A breeze stirred the canopy but never reached the clearing. The fire behind him still smoked faintly, bark-wolf bones blackening in the coals.
No one spoke. The others were scattered across the camp: Eloin packed mud into the southern wall, Naera sorted stones near the grave, Lira walked the perimeter with that same quiet vigilance. Goss sat near the shelter entrance, leg outstretched, sharpening a stick slowly and without purpose.
Raif's hand hovered over the orb. He had been here for a while now, unsure of what to do. The orb had been with them since the beginning, warning of threats, rewarding survival. But it had always remained distant.
Yesterday was different. It felt different.
Raif had an inkling suspicion that he needed to do something here, with the orb.
It pulsed beneath its surface, not visibly but rhythmically, like a second heartbeat beneath glass. Or maybe not a heartbeat at all, something older. Waiting.
He hesitated.
Not because he feared the orb. Not exactly. But there was something about this moment that felt heavier than it should have. His fingers twitched. It was as if his fingers held the fear his mind refused to name — like they knew what was coming before he did.
Was this what leadership was? Touching things no one else dared? Pretending to understand something just long enough for others to believe you? Lie built upon a lie?
He glanced at the others, at Naera's hunched form near the cairn. At Eloin's shoulders, stiff with tension. At Lira, walking the edge of the world like she wasn't sure she wanted to be part of it. Goss gazed at the trees.
Thomund would have known what to do. Or at least, Raif could have asked. He found that in this short period of time, Thomund had acted like a teacher and mentor, albeit subtly, like he knew what was happening and just didn't want to reveal it. Raif thought back to the first time they met, the summoning event. Thomund had known a bit more than he was letting on. Had it happened before? Did he know? Was death something he foresaw? Nevertheless, Thomund wasn't here anymore. Those questions couldn't be asked. Raif knew this. He just had to accept it.
With a deep breath, he placed his palm against the orb.
The thrum passed through him like pressure behind the eyes. Then the light surged.
[Kingdom Core – Level 1 Achieved]
[Territory Radius Expanded]
[Mapping Initiated]
[Summoning System Unlocked]
[KE Storage Capacity Increased: 200]
Raif let out a sigh. The glow dimmed slightly, but something deeper had shifted.
The orb no longer felt like a passive artefact. It watched now. It knew. It felt alive.
A ripple moved through the ground beneath him. His vision blurred, then steadied.
Before his eyes, a primitive map shimmered into view. Not a full topographical layout, but a rough sketch of their clearing and the jungle surrounding it. Faint ridges suggested elevation. A dry riverbed. A dense thicket to the east. It showed more than what they had seen. Letting them know there was more out there, and not too far away either. Raif looked in the direction of each unique location. Just past these trees. Just deeper into the jungle. These places were just waiting to be found.
Then, icons: small glyphs marking things he half-recognised. One for their shelter. Another for the grave.
He reached out instinctively.
The glyphs responded.
He traced one of the symbols with his thoughts.
The map shifted, drawing focus to the shelter glyph. A new display opened beside it: a column of symbols and text in that same angular script the orb always used. It was cleaner now, easier to follow. As if the system had adapted to him, or he had adapted to it. Or perhaps it had always been this way, just waiting for the right signal.
[Blueprints Available: Shelter Category]
[Basic Bark Structure (Active)]
[Dryroot Storage Pit (Unbuilt)]
[Perimeter Fence – Barkwood (Unbuilt)]
[Herbal Drying Rack (Unbuilt)]
Raif narrowed his eyes. He recognised each of these. They weren't new. They were fragments of knowledge, plans they'd already attempted or discovered in their own ways. Naera had tried to construct a drying rack. It worked for what it was, but did this mean he could make it, just like the shelter? He thought harder, and realised he hadn't done much with the blueprints after the shelter.
Why?
He sighed to himself. The situation hadn't allowed it. Too many things were happening too fast. Sure there was downtime, but was it enough? It wasn't. Raif had things to deal with. The others even more so. He couldn't remember everything. Do everything.
But he understood a bit more now. He needed to. No one else would.
He selected the grave icon next.
[Recognised Structure: Cairn - Thomund]
[Linked: Emotional Significance – Confirmed]
[Unlocking Spiritual Category…]
The map dimmed. A soft pulse rose through his spine. New text appeared.
[Blueprint Acquired: Shrine for the Dead]
[Effect: Generates +2 KE per day]
[Condition: Must be built atop or near a named grave, include stonework and ritual binding]
[Materials: Stone, Ash, Fibre (Binding)]
Raif stepped back from the orb, blinking. His heart was steady, but something old and heavy sat in his chest.
The orb hadn't just given them another structure; it had acknowledged Thomund. The cairn, the carving, the silence they'd shared. It had taken their grief and turned it into something permanent.
For a moment, Raif could see Thomund again — not the dying man beneath the tree, but the one who carved tools in the rain without complaint. Who had handed Naera the last chunk of dried root with a grunt, pretending not to notice she hadn't eaten.
The system had seen that. Somehow, it had understood.
Raif glanced around the map again. This time, the flickering edge of a new interface slid into view.
[Summoning Interface Online]
[Category: Basic Support and Structures]
[Current KE: 100 / 200]
He stared at it for a long time.
Then, slowly, almost without thinking, he spoke aloud.
"Can you hear me?"
No response.
He let the silence settle. "Do you know what he meant to us?"
Still nothing. Only the low, waiting pulse beneath the surface.
"I don't know if I'm the one who should be touching you," he muttered. "Thomund was stronger. Lira's sharper. Goss sees patterns I miss. And Naera—" he paused. "Naera feels what the rest of us don't."
The orb remained quiet.
A flicker. A soundless echo.
[Acknowledged]
Just that. One word. Bright, weightless, then gone.
Raif blinked. The glyph faded, but it had been there.
So it did listen. Maybe not to every word. Maybe not like a person. But it was aware.
He didn't know if that made him feel better or worse.
He closed the interface and stepped back. The orb pulsed once, low and warm, like it understood. Then it dimmed again. Not dormant... waiting.
They weren't just surviving anymore. The system had changed. And so had the story it was telling.
Raif turned away from the orb, blinking to clear the afterimage from his eyes.
Across the clearing, Eloin was still working the southern wall, mud thick on his forearms. Lira stood at the far edge of camp, one hand resting on the crutch Goss had given her, eyes fixed outward. Naera sat in silence by the cairn, her shoulders drawn in. Goss hadn't moved.
They didn't know. Not yet.
Raif walked a slow arc around the fire, eyes tracking each of them. He wanted to speak. To explain what the orb had shown. The map. The blueprints. The summoning.
But the words didn't come.
Something about it felt unfinished. The shrine hadn't been built. The choices hadn't been made. Whatever came next, they would have to decide it together.
He crouched near the coals, stirred them with a stick, and watched the smoke rise.
He thought of the grave. Of the pulse. Of the name cut into stone. Not just a marker, but a promise.
Thomund would've said something simple. Something rough-edged but true.
Don't waste it.
Raif stood slowly.
He looked back at the orb. The surface had gone still again, but it felt different now. Expectant.
He made a silent decision.
They would build the shrine. Not just because it gave KE, but because it mattered. They would reinforce the shelter. They would study the map, find what lay beyond the edge. And when the time came, they would summon. Not out of desperation, but intent.
He would be the one to carry it. Not because he was the strongest. Not because the orb chose him. But because someone had to step forward first.
"We build something real," he murmured, barely loud enough for the fire to hear. "Together."
He didn't need to announce it yet.
Tomorrow would come soon enough.
"Together," he whispered again, as if it were the only word that could hold it all.
The fire cracked. The orb pulsed, faint and patient.
The breath of the core.