The night was alive with the chorus of unseen creatures. Chirps, howls, and rustling leaves melded into a sinister symphony that echoed through the dense jungle. Kurai remained huddled beneath the thick cover of high grass and brush, his back pressed against a sturdy tree. Every muscle in his body ached, the sharp sting of his wounds a constant reminder of the brutal battle he had barely survived.

The pain was overwhelming, but he forced himself to stay awake. He couldn't afford to let his guard down, not here, not now.

His body was a mess. Blood had caked against his torn clothes, wounds still raw, yet he could feel the slow, methodical work of the aether repairing him. He could see it, sense it—the flesh knitting itself together, layer by layer. It was unlike any healing he had ever witnessed. But he also knew it had its limits. The reserves were not infinite, and he could already feel the well beginning to run dry.

According to the Aether Manual, the more refined one's body became, the more efficiently it could draw aether from the very atmosphere. Though it also happened automatically, It required precise control to speed up their Aether absorption or even push past their natural limits. Kurai had made some progress but he was far from achieving what he wanted. The creation of the Aether core would require a lot more from him.

A soft crunch nearby made his breath hitch.

He tensed, shifting his grip on his spear, eyes scanning the darkness. Just beyond the bush where he hid, the undergrowth rustled. Something was moving. Slowly, cautiously, sniffing the air.

A prowler.

It slinked forward, muscles coiled, its nose twitching as it caught the scent of his blood.

Kurai's heart pounded. It wasn't the first time he'd been hunted, but in his current state, he had no room for mistakes. He steadied his breath, tightening his fingers around the spear. The moment it lowered its head to sniff the base of the bush, he struck.

The stone tip drove through its skull with a sickening crunch, cutting short its low growl. The prowler spasmed, claws twitching, then fell limp.

Kurai crouched, trembling as he pulled his weapon free, his gaze snapping to his surroundings.

Then, the system spoke in its ever-detached tone:

"You have absorbed another creature's aether. You have grown stronger. 10 points have been allocated."

But the momentary relief was short-lived.

The jungle seemed to stir.

Flickering red eyes blinked into existence, scattered in the darkness like smoldering embers. Low growls rumbled from all directions. His kill had not gone unnoticed.

Kurai cursed under his breath. He was in no state to fight this many. The aether was welcome, but his body couldn't afford more wounds, not now. The energy coursing through him was already stretched thin, split between healing and sustaining his exhausted limbs.

No hesitation. He had to move.

With a sharp pivot, he pushed forward, retracing his path toward the river. The prowlers gave chase, their movements erratic, bounding through the underbrush in pursuit. His speed, however, was greater. Even in his battered state, his enhanced agility kept him ahead. He had yet to sense any of them radiating the kind of dense aether the humanoid creatures had. That alone was reassuring—they were fast, but they weren't gaining on him.

Yet, they weren't his only obstacles.

More of them were already in his way.

One leapt from the side, claws flashing in the moonlight. Kurai ducked low, letting it sail over him, then thrust his spear upward into its exposed belly. He didn't stop to confirm the kill, simply tearing his weapon free and pressing on.

Another lunged from behind. He twisted, slashing the spear across its throat, feeling the hot spray of blood against his arm.

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Four more kills. Four more bursts of aether into his drained body.

His breaths were ragged, his vision swimming as the energy surged through him. He couldn't afford to stop. The river was close—he could hear it, the steady rush of water calling to him like salvation.

A final push.

He burst through the last line of trees, the river appearing before him like a silver ribbon under the moonlight. Without hesitation, he leapt. His battered body barely responded, but the aether surged to his legs, pushing him just far enough. He landed on the other side in a rough roll, stumbling but catching himself before he could collapse completely.

The prowlers skidded to a halt at the river's edge.

They snarled, pacing, but none dared cross. Whether it was instinct or something else keeping them back, he didn't care. He had made it.

But he was far from safe.

He took a shaky breath, forcing his limbs to carry him forward. The other side of the river was different. The vegetation was thicker and what looked like shining flowers were painting the ground at some places, giving dim light to the surroundings. New sounds filled the air—hissing, the rustle of scales against foliage.

Snakes, he figured.

And more.

A lizard-like creature emerged from the brush, its elongated body slithering unnaturally, its forked tongue tasting the air and their jagged sharp teeth were shining through the dark. Kurai wasted no time. He drove his spear forward, piercing through its throat before it could react. Another kill. More aether.

Still, they kept coming. The jungle on this side was just as merciless.

His progress slowed, every step met with resistance. Each new creature he killed added to his strength, but also drained his already battered body further. He pressed on, guided by the river, cutting down anything that got in his way.

Time blurred.

Eventually, the creatures stopped.

The air grew still. The jungle, though still full of distant noises, seemed less oppressive. His instincts told him he had finally put enough distance between himself and the dangers behind him.

He exhaled, swaying slightly.

The sun had begun its ascent. The faintest traces of pink light filtered through the thick canopy, signaling the arrival of a new day.

For now, he was alone.

***

The group returned to camp in the late afternoon, their moods lifted by their success. Each had secured two prowlers, a feat that left them feeling a rare sense of accomplishment. The kills had come easier than expected, their movements more efficient, their strikes more precise. The lessons Kurai had drilled into them were paying off.

But as the suns' rays were receding, a realization settled over them.

"Strange… He isn't back yet," Theo muttered, glancing around the camp uneasily. The shadows were growing longer, night creeping in fast.

"Yeah, and it's getting dark," Mira added, her voice tinged with concern. "What do we do?"

Jace scoffed. "What do you mean, 'what do we do'? We're not going out there in the dead of night. We won't be able to see a damned thing, and—" he paused, shooting Elias a glance before continuing, "—if something strong enough to keep Kurai out there showed up, what chance do we have?"

Elias remained silent, arms crossed, listening as the others argued. He let the conversation steer itself, as he often did, weighing their words before offering his own.

"But he could be in trouble, Jace!" Mira pressed, frustration creeping into her tone.

"And? If something out there actually gave him trouble, what are we supposed to do?" Jace shot back. "We should do what he told us—get stronger. That's the whole reason he went off alone in the first place, right?"

"He saved our lives, Jace. Did you forget?" Mira's voice was sharp now. "You'd be dead if it weren't for him."

Jace exhaled through his nose, his jaw tightening. "No, I didn't forget. But think about it—why do you think he saved us? Because he actually cares? Or because we were just there when he needed more points? Maybe keeping us around benefits him more than we realize."

Mira's hands curled into fists. "You ungrateful little—Does it even matter why?! He still saved us, and he's given us advice and lessons that have helped all of us—especially you!"

"It does matter," Elias finally spoke, his voice measured. "The reason does matter, Mira. I get what you're saying, but Jace isn't wrong. Kurai's help isn't exactly selfless. He keeps us just strong enough to be useful, but never enough to outgrow him. It's not about us—it's about control."

Mira turned on him, eyes blazing. "So what, you're just going to leave him out there to die?"

Elias sighed. "I doubt it'll come to that. He'll probably be back by morning."

Mira shook her head, disgusted. "And then what? You'll just say, 'Hey, sorry Kurai, thought you might be dead, but we didn't bother looking for you'?"

Elias met her glare without flinching. "That goes for you too, doesn't it? If you really thought he needed saving, I don't see you running off to find him either."

Mira's next retort died in her throat. Her face flushed red, and after a tense moment, she turned away with a scowl. "...Fine."

Jace let out a quiet breath, relieved Elias had stepped in. Meanwhile, Theo, who had been silent through the entire exchange, shifted uncomfortably. The tension was thick enough to cut, and he wanted no part in it.

The fire crackled between them, the only sound breaking the uneasy silence. Whatever their thoughts on Kurai, none of them were willing to say what they were all thinking.

If he didn't come back by morning—what then?