The fog did not thin.
If anything, it grew heavier, rolling across the jungle floor in thick, unbroken coils that clung to ankles like cold fingers. Arios walked at the center of the formation, sword sheathed but hand hovering near the grip—not out of panic, not out of fear, but out of the unmistakable sense that the island had begun to watch them back.
Lucy paced to his right, expression sharp, her steps quiet and controlled. Liza walked on his left, ears attuned, eyes scanning, hands occasionally brushing the bark of passing trees as though trying to sense what the forest itself could not put into words.
They'd been moving for less than two minutes since the last chapter ended, yet the atmosphere had changed as drastically as if hours had passed.
There was something new in the air.
Something wrong.
And all three of them felt it.
