The sacred night passed gently, woven with candlelight, blessings, and quiet laughter.
The final ritual had been completed. Two drops of blood had joined in the sacred flame, and the tribal elders gave their blessings with proud smiles.
As the tribe gathered one last time around the central fire, Sharky took Jean's hand and turned to the Village Chief.
"Thank you… for everything," he said with deep respect.
The old chief smiled. "Now go. She belongs with you."
Jean's heart beat faster. She knew what came next.
At the edge of the tribe, a sleek silver jet waited. It wasn't like the crafts she had seen before—it glowed with faint runes and curved like the body of a beast.
Its wings shimmered with crystal thrusters that made no sound as they hovered above the soil.
The hatch opened with a soft hiss.
Sharky helped Jean step aboard. Rosie and Sophia followed her, and then he finally stepped inside.
