Morning came without calm.
Kael knew it the moment he opened his eyes.
The barracks were already awake. Boots scraped against stone. Armor buckles clinked. Voices were low, sharp, and impatient.
No one lingered in bed.
Kael sat up and swung his legs down. His muscles protested immediately. Yesterday's training hadn't eased overnight—it had settled in deeper, like a weight pressing from the inside.
Across the room, Tavian was already awake, rubbing his neck.
"Did they ring the bell early?" Tavian asked.
"No," Kael said. "People just didn't sleep."
They dressed quickly and stepped outside.
The air was heavy. Clouds hung low over the island, dark and unmoving. The sea beyond the walls looked flat, stretched too tight.
Soldiers moved in organized lines toward the training grounds. No one joked. No one complained.
Orders echoed.
"Line up!"
"Gear check!"
"Move!"
Lyra was already there when Kael arrived, tightening the straps on her arm guards.
"They doubled the squads," she said quietly. "And shortened rest cycles."
Kael glanced around. She was right. New faces stood among familiar ones—reserves pulled into active duty.
Ronas stood near the front, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
"Listen up," Ronas called. "From today onward, patrol coverage increases. Training intensity increases. Any lapse will be corrected immediately."
No explanations.
No questions allowed.
Training began without delay.
Steel clashed within minutes.
Kael faced a rotating line of opponents, one after another. The instructors didn't slow the pace. If someone fell, they were dragged aside and replaced.
Kael blocked, stepped, struck.
Again.
Again.
His breathing stayed steady, but his arms burned. Sweat ran down his back. Each clash of blades rang through his bones.
"Don't rely on strength!" an instructor shouted. "Control your movement!"
Kael adjusted his stance and parried low, turning his opponent's momentum against him. The man stumbled back.
Next opponent stepped in immediately.
No pause.
By midmorning, the training ground felt smaller. Crowded. Loud.
Kael caught Tavian's eye across the field. Tavian was holding his own, breathing hard but smiling through it.
That smile faded when a horn sounded.
Not an alarm.
A signal.
Training stopped instantly.
All eyes turned toward the eastern wall.
A lookout waved his arms.
"Movement near the outer waters!" he shouted.
Kael's grip tightened on his sword.
Ronas raised a hand. "Patrol squads, move."
Kael didn't hesitate. He joined the line as soldiers ran toward the docks.
The patrol boats cut across the water fast.
Waves slapped against the hull as Kael scanned the surface. Nothing moved. No shadows. No ripples.
Too quiet.
"Spread out," the squad leader ordered.
The boats separated slightly, forming a wide arc.
Then the water broke.
A dark shape surged upward, scales glinting briefly before crashing back down. The force rocked the boat.
"Contact!" someone shouted.
Another shape followed. Then another.
Kael moved automatically, bracing as a creature rose alongside the boat. Its body twisted unnaturally, joints bending the wrong way.
"Hold position!" the leader barked.
Kael struck as the creature lunged. His blade cut deep, but the thing barely slowed.
"Again!" Lyra shouted from the next boat.
They struck together this time. The creature recoiled, then sank beneath the surface.
But it didn't flee.
More shapes circled below.
"They're testing us," Kael said.
The leader nodded grimly. "They always do."
A creature surged up beneath the rear boat. Wood splintered. A soldier screamed as he was thrown into the water.
"Man overboard!"
Kael moved without thinking. He leapt, catching the edge of the boat and hauling himself across. He grabbed the fallen soldier's arm just as a shadow closed in beneath them.
Kael slashed downward.
The creature recoiled, thrashing violently. Water sprayed everywhere.
"Pull him up!" Kael shouted.
Hands grabbed the soldier and hauled him aboard. Kael scrambled back as the creature vanished beneath the surface.
Silence followed.
The water stilled again.
No cheers came.
Everyone knew this wasn't a victory.
By the time they returned to shore, word had already spread.
More patrols were ordered. More guards posted along the walls.
The elders said nothing.
Kael stripped off his wet gear and sat heavily on a crate near the docks. His arms shook slightly as the tension drained.
"That was closer than usual," Tavian said, sitting beside him.
"They wanted to see how we reacted," Kael replied.
Lyra joined them, her expression tight. "And now they know."
A shadow fell across them.
Ronas stood there, arms crossed.
"You held the line," he said. "That matters."
Kael looked up. "It won't be enough."
Ronas didn't deny it.
"Rest while you can," Ronas said. "Tomorrow won't be easier."
That evening, Kael found himself walking toward the lower archives again.
He didn't plan it. His feet just took him there.
The door was unlocked.
Inside, the lamps were lit.
Ronas stood near a table, looking through records.
"You're not supposed to be here," Kael said.
Ronas didn't look up. "Neither are you."
Kael stepped closer. "They're escalating."
"Yes," Ronas said. "And they're not hiding it anymore."
Kael hesitated. "Why now?"
Ronas finally looked at him.
"Because patience has limits," he said. "And so does isolation."
Kael clenched his jaw. "You know more than you're saying."
"I know enough to be afraid," Ronas replied. "And enough to know fear won't stop what's coming."
Kael waited.
Ronas sighed. "The elders believe silence keeps people safe. I believe preparation does."
"Then prepare us," Kael said.
Ronas studied him for a long moment. "That's exactly what I'm trying to do."
Night fell heavier than usual.
Kael lay awake, staring at the ceiling. His body ached, but sleep didn't come easily.
Every sound outside felt sharper. Every wave crashing against the shore felt closer.
He thought of the outsiders' armor. The way they had watched.
Not hostile.
Not friendly.
Measuring.
A pressure built in his chest—not pain, not fear, but something close to frustration. Like being pushed from all sides with nowhere to move.
He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes.
Tomorrow would come whether he was ready or not.
Far beyond the island, unseen systems adjusted again.
Movement recorded.
Response measured.
Variables updating.
The island was adapting.
That made it dangerous.