Morning came late, like it was embarrassed about what happened during the night and hoped everyone would forget if it waited long enough.
Rayan did not sleep much. He lay on the narrow inn bed staring at the ceiling beams, replaying the well incident again and again, each time finding a new way it could have gone horribly wrong. Every creak of the building made his muscles tense, and every distant footstep convinced him that someone had decided to stab the weird newcomer before breakfast.
The Rootkit stayed quiet, which somehow felt worse.
When sunlight finally slipped through the window, thin and dusty, Rayan sat up and rubbed his face. His head hurt in the familiar way it did after too many hours staring at code, except this time the code lived under a village well and might be older than recorded history.
He swung his legs off the bed and immediately regretted that decision because his body reminded him that stress counted as exercise now.
"Fantastic," he muttered. "I fight alien infrastructure once and suddenly my knees quit."
A knock came at the door. Not polite. Not aggressive. Just confident.
Before Rayan could answer, the door opened and Lessa stepped in like privacy was a suggestion, not a rule. She held a mug in one hand and a plate in the other, steam rising from both.
"You did not die," she said.
Rayan blinked. "Good morning to you too."
She set the plate down on the small table. Bread, eggs, something fried that smelled better than it looked. She slid the mug toward him. "Drink. You look like someone who argued with the world and lost."
Rayan took the mug carefully. "That feels uncomfortably accurate."
Lessa folded her arms and leaned against the wall. "Torren talked. The well is quiet. People slept."
"So no riots," Rayan said.
"So far," Lessa replied. "Which means they are saving their questions."
Rayan took a sip and nearly burned his tongue, which felt fair. "I did not fix it. I delayed it. That thing under the well is still there."
Lessa's eyes narrowed slightly. "Thing."
"Machine," Rayan corrected. "Not from here. It is broken and it does not like being ignored."
Lessa watched him for a long moment. "You are saying this very calmly for someone admitting there is foreign machinery under my village."
Rayan shrugged. "Panic never improved a system. It only makes logs harder to read."
She stared. "I do not know what that means, but it sounds like nonsense that works."
Rayan smiled faintly. "It usually does."
A pause settled between them, heavy but not hostile.
Then Lessa said, "People want to see you."
Rayan's stomach dropped. "For thanking or stabbing."
"Undecided," she said honestly. "Depends how the meeting goes."
The meeting turned out to be less dramatic and more awkward than Rayan expected, which somehow made it worse.
They gathered in the common room, villagers sitting on benches and leaning against walls, all pretending not to stare while doing exactly that. Torren stood near the hearth. Mina was there too, arms crossed, eyes sharp but curious. A few unfamiliar faces lingered near the back, including one man in robes who kept tapping his fingers together like he was counting something invisible.
Rayan stood near Lessa, suddenly very aware that he still wore the same hoodie and probably smelled like stress.
Torren cleared his throat. "This is Rayan."
Several heads tilted at once, like a flock of birds deciding whether he was food.
"He dealt with the well," Torren continued. "Or at least stopped it from screaming at us."
Someone snorted. Another person whispered something Rayan did not catch but felt judged by anyway.
The robed man stepped forward. "I am Halvek," he said, voice smooth in the way that suggested practice. "I oversee arcane integrity for this region."
Rayan immediately disliked him, which felt efficient.
Halvek studied Rayan with a smile that never reached his eyes. "You are not awakened. You do not carry a focus. You have no visible conduit. Yet the well calmed."
Rayan scratched the back of his neck. "I am resourceful."
Halvek's smile tightened. "That is not an answer."
Mina cut in before Rayan could dig himself deeper. "Neither is accusing someone without proof."
Halvek glanced at her, irritation flickering. "I am asking questions."
"And he is alive," Mina replied. "Which suggests the questions should be gentler."
Rayan resisted the urge to thank her out loud.
Halvek turned back to him. "What did you see under the well."
Rayan hesitated. He could feel the Rootkit stir slightly, like it was paying attention.
"Old repairs," Rayan said carefully. "Layered fixes. People trying to solve something without knowing the full shape of the problem."
Halvek nodded slowly. "And the source."
Rayan met his gaze. "Something that listens more than it thinks."
The room murmured.
Halvek's fingers paused. "Listening devices are weapons."
"Or tools," Rayan said. "Depends who holds the data."
That line landed harder than he expected. The murmurs grew sharper. A few villagers shifted uncomfortably.
Lessa stepped in. "Enough. The well is stable. That is what matters today."
"For how long," Halvek asked.
Rayan exhaled. "Not forever."
Silence followed, thick and honest.
Torren broke it. "Then we plan."
People nodded. Slowly. Reluctantly.
The meeting dissolved without resolution, which felt realistic and deeply unsatisfying.
Afterward, Mina cornered Rayan near the door. "You attract trouble like a hobby."
Rayan laughed weakly. "I try to keep it professional."
She studied him. "You are staying."
"Seems likely," Rayan said. "Running feels rude when the problem stays behind."
She nodded once. "Good. Then listen."
She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Lights appeared near the old quarry last night. Same color as the well."
Rayan's chest tightened. "That is not supposed to happen."
"Nothing about this is supposed to happen," Mina said. "People heard humming."
The Rootkit flared.
ALERT: Secondary signal detected.
LOCATION: Outside village perimeter.
PATTERN MATCH: 87 percent similarity.
Rayan swallowed. "How far is the quarry."
Mina frowned at his expression. "Far enough that we do not like going there."
Rayan nodded slowly. "Then that is exactly where this is spreading."
That evening, as the sun dipped low and shadows stretched long, Rayan packed what little he had. Lessa handed him a sturdier lantern and a coil of rope without comment. Torren pressed a small charm into his hand and muttered something that sounded like a blessing and a threat at the same time.
As Rayan stepped beyond the village edge, the Rootkit whispered one final update.
NOTICE: System awareness increasing.
STATUS: Observer no longer passive.
Rayan looked toward the distant hills where the quarry waited, faint lights pulsing where darkness should have been.
"Yeah," he murmured. "I was afraid of that."
Behind him, the village lights glowed warm and fragile.
Ahead of him, something had noticed the patch.
And this time, it was listening back.