That evening, Logan returned to the park—less hopeful, more stubborn.
The Protocol's resonance task still echoed in his mind, its cryptic phrasing like an itch that refused to be scratched. The sky had begun its slow descent into rusted reds and bruised purples, and the park—usually bustling—now stood hushed and vacant.
Stillness is not silence. Observation begins in absence.
Fine. If subtlety was the game, he'd play it.
He sat cross-legged in the grass, gaze steady on a space between two trees. A leaf twirled on the breeze. A paper wrapper skated across the cobblestones. Somewhere in the distance, a fountain burbled quietly. He inhaled. Exhaled. Waited.
Nothing moved. And yet, somehow, something shifted.
It wasn't motion. It wasn't sound. It was presence—like the edges of the space around him had curled, then righted themselves.
A tremor brushed against the inside of his senses.
Progress: 3%
+1 Spatial Awareness Point
Perceptual thread detected: atmospheric displacement mapped.
Logan's eyes widened.
It wasn't sight he was using.
It was shape. The outline of things that hadn't moved, but weren't quite still. Like space had blinked, and he'd caught the moment its eyelid closed.
Then a chill ran down his spine—sharp, sudden, primal.
He wasn't alone.
He didn't hear footsteps. Didn't see anything with his eyes. But something shifted, however faint, at the edge of his perception.
Across the street, near a darkened rooftop, something flickered. A brief glint where no lantern burned. But when he turned fully to look, it was gone.
[Hidden Trigger Activated – Passive Skill Unlocked]
Name:Spatial Instinct I
Description: Alerts user to minor shifts in spatial displacement within a 15-meter radius.
Effect: +5 to reaction speed against unseen movement.
"The Void senses before the eyes do."
Logan rose slowly, boot soles crunching the gravel.
He didn't understand what was happening. Not fully. But something inside him had just expanded. A curtain pulled back. A layer peeled away.
Whatever this was... it wasn't nothing.
Elsewhere in Sector Twelve, atop a quiet surveillance spire, a Crystal Legion scout lowered his viewing lens.
"He reacted, sir," the scout said through clenched teeth. "Didn't see me—but he felt me. Turned exactly as I adjusted my posture."
His commander narrowed his eyes. "Are you certain?"
"He has no core. No records. Our teams cleared him. But that kind of reflex... it's not civilian."
The commander stepped away, quietly activating a rune-sealed communicator.
"We need to notify Null Force. Quietly. No assumptions."
Commander Boris sat at his desk in grim silence, back stiff, eyes sunken beneath long days of pressure.
The Queen's patience was gone. The nobility was growing suspicious. The Royal Circle wanted answers, and so far, the investigation had produced nothing but whispers.
When he'd last briefed the Queen, he'd debated bringing up the boy—Logan Von. But what was there to say? An old healer's observation? A street rumor about a jog?
Too thin.
Still...
A knock disrupted his thoughts.
"Enter."
An officer bowed slightly and stepped forward. "Commander. A report just arrived from the Crystal Legion's Sector Twelve team."
Boris straightened. "Anything noteworthy?"
"Well, sir," the officer said slowly, "Logan Von spent the entire afternoon in the central park. Staring at trees."
Boris raised an eyebrow. "Just staring?"
"Yes, sir."
He leaned back, fingers steepled. "And our observer?"
"Scout Arlen reported the subject reacted to his presence. Said he turned just as he adjusted his footing."
Boris closed his eyes, quietly processing.
Commander Boris sat hunched at his desk, staring at the flickering rune-report from Sector Twelve. Behind his weariness, a slow curiosity had begun to churn.
He tapped a finger against the armrest.
A civilian.
No core.
And yet... that sharp moment of reaction. A kid supposedly recovering from a violent Essentia rejection, now moving like he sensed the observer?
"Trees," Boris muttered. "Why would a coreless boy spend half an hour staring at trees?"
He turned to his aide. "Pull the boy's background again. Full work and school record. Look for inconsistencies. Look for... anything."
"Yes, sir."
"Get me the full transcript from the Crystal observation—movement logs, timestamps, spatial displacement readouts. And set up a shadow net around the artisan quarter. I want rune traps—not the triggering kind. Just detection. Quiet."
"Understood."
Boris leaned back in his chair and exhaled slowly.
If this was nothing, they'd know soon enough.
And if it wasn't...
Logan walked home beneath a sky smeared in dying golds and smoky indigo. The feeling lingered—unease clinging to him like static in his bones.
He wasn't being watched anymore. The sensation had faded the moment he left the park. Whether it was instinct or the subtle prickle of his newly awakened Spatial Instinct, he couldn't say. But he knew—something had been there.
And now it wasn't.
Still, his shoulders remained tense even as his own street came into view. The forge lights in the alley behind their shop had long since dimmed, and the house windows flickered weakly with lamplight.
He stepped through the front door and instantly froze.
Voices.
Raised. Bitter. Tired.
His parents were arguing again—his mother pleading with something in her tone, his father all steel and strain.
But the moment the door closed behind him, silence fell like a dropped curtain.
Julie peeked from around the corner, her expression softening. "Logan. You're home."
Harold looked up from the kitchen table. His features were weathered, hard-set—marked by years spent holding back collapse with nothing but pride and hammer blows.
"You were seen today," he said plainly.
Logan stayed quiet.
Harold continued, "Running. In public. Near the noble quarter."
Julie flinched slightly. "Harold—"
"No, he should hear this," Harold interrupted, fixing his gaze on Logan. "You were spotted jogging like a madman through the city. And this... after what happened?"
Logan stared at the floor. "It was just... exercise."
Harold didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
"You don't have a core, Logan. You nearly died three days ago. We get stripped of nobility, and now you're sprinting through the city like you're trying to reclaim it by foot?" His mouth twitched, as if he wanted to say more, but restrained himself.
Instead, he exhaled through his nose and stood.
"Enough of this nonsense. You're coming to the forge with me tomorrow. If you can run, you can work. No more of this... wandering."
He didn't wait for a reply.
Julie reached for Logan's arm gently, eyes filled with worry. But he simply nodded once and retreated to his room, the weight of their unspoken doubts pressing in behind him.
Far to the north of the Youlan Kingdom, deep beneath the emerald canopies of the Boneleaf Wilds, a cave lit by fungal lanterns pulsed with low, murmuring voices.
The Beast Claw Council had gathered.
Elder shamans. Spirit-bonded seers. Lichen-cloaked guardians of Julio's wild power. Some of them spoke proudly of their kingdom's latest Awakening results—new beast-pacts, strong cores, wild elemental alignments.
But at the head of the circle, perched high on a ridge of stone carved like antlers, sat High Fang Queen Seravine.
She said nothing.
When the last report was read, her voice cut through the gloom like a blade.
"And what of the foreign magic?"
The room quieted.
A hunched, masked figure stepped forward. His breath misted from his lips despite the humid air.
"Your Majesty... it remains inconclusive. We've intercepted reports that the Crystal Legion of Youlan has been deployed across their territory. Full patrol rotation, no public announcement. Even Dareth's head himself is seen overseeing border controls personally."
"That fast?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Our agents suggest they still have no grasp on the phenomenon. No core trace. No artifact discharge. It... does not behave like Bestial, Arcane, or Elemental magic. They are as blind as we are."
Seravine leaned forward, fingers drumming against the polished skull of a dire hawk.
"If it destabilizes Youlan... good. Let it crack their crown."
She paused, jaw tightening.
"But if it joins them... if it bolsters their court or their already gilded houses..."
None dared answer.
The Beast Claw Queen narrowed her eyes, and the temperature in the cave seemed to drop.
"Then the forest will burn."