Back in the quiet, tense bubble of Oakhaven, the pattern was broken. For the first time in days, the sun rose and set without a new disappearance. The villagers dared to hope, their haggard eyes holding a flicker of something other than fear. The trio did their morning and evening patrols—checking the tree line, scanning the pastures, speaking with the watchmen—and found nothing. No new ghostly traces, no possessed animals, no chilling distortions in the air.
The unnatural peace was almost as unnerving as the attacks. It felt like the calm in the eye of a storm, or the pause of a predator regrouping.
After the final patrol of the day, they returned to their small villa on the mayor's grounds.
