The firelight cast long, distorted shadows on the stone walls of the headquarters. They flickered like shapes trying to crawl their way into the room—shapes that hadn't been invited. Riku sat alone at the war table, staring at a blank patch of stone on the map wall where Kael had intended to paint their first scouting lines.
He hadn't allowed it yet. Not because they hadn't scouted. But because he wasn't ready to be seen.
The global chat had cracked open like a hornet nest.
It started with a message from someone calling themselves Goldvale Sovereign.
"One of us is dead. Not monsters. Not rogue beasts. Killed by a tribe. Unaligned. Intelligent."
That was the exact wording. Nothing dramatic. Just cold facts.
Then the others followed.
"Wait, a wandering tribe?"
"What region?"
"Did they breach the dome?"
"I thought the system barred intelligent contact?"
"This is too early. There's still protection!"
"Who else saw this?"
No answers. Just panic spiraling.
More names appeared. Highthorn. Cloudwalker. Pale Sun. Each one had a theory. A fear. A proposed alliance. Someone even offered an "emergency coalition" with entry based on proving a live kill count against unknowns. It was idiotic.
Riku read every word.
He didn't respond.
His screen name—AshEdge—remained grayed out, never speaking, never seen.
Let them talk. Let them worry. He would be quiet. He would be ready.
He closed the chat overlay and stood. The air in the hall was too hot. Too stale. Outside, the wind carried the faint scent of scorched moss and broken stone, punctuated by the forge's rhythmic breathing. Kael was shaping spear shafts near the firepit. Sira kept glancing toward the southern ridgeline.
Even the Draganoids were quieter today.
They'd heard about the kill too. Word traveled even without the system. Wanderers. Hostiles. Not monsters—people. Or near enough.
Riku crossed to the resource table where the food stores had been stacked into crates. He crouched beside the lowest one and opened the flap.
Two crates were already empty.
One was halfway there.
They had enough to last maybe another six days. Seven if rationed.
He pulled Kael aside later.
"We need to start livestock."
Kael blinked. "Now?"
"We've got stable heat. A walled section. And the forge vent can keep a pen warm through night cycle. I want one pit by tomorrow."
Kael hesitated. "We don't have anything to put in it yet."
"We will," Riku said.
They'd scouted small crater drakes circling just beyond the barrier—fast, aggressive, skittish. But if they could be trapped, they could be penned. Riku didn't know if they were edible. But right now, they needed options.
Kael nodded and moved off to start organizing materials.
Riku stayed behind, staring at the foraging log.
Fewer returns every day.
The southern paths were dry. The western slope had been tapped already. And the northern trench—where the steam hounds came from—wasn't an option.
That left beneath.
He walked to the vault, opened the stone grate they'd carved near the base, and stepped down into the underforge.
The air was cooler here. And darker. The slab—the black-silver tile—remained locked away. He didn't touch it. But he passed it, deeper into the tunnels where they'd stored salvaged supplies from older ruins.
As he sorted through crates, his hand fell on one of the old canvas grain sacks.
It wasn't heavy.
But it wasn't light either.
He opened it—and froze.
Inside were four full sacks.
Same design. Same ties. Same dust on the fabric.
He checked the count again.
He'd brought one back here, two nights ago. Just one. Stored it himself.
He opened each sack slowly.
Dried pulse grain. Dried pulse grain. Dried pulse grain. Dried pulse grain.
He closed the last one with slow, deliberate hands.
Then came the flicker.
[Supply Folded – Dried Grain Sack | Original: 1 | Multiplier: x4 | Final: 4]
Riku exhaled through his nose, barely more than a breath.
He checked the surrounding crates. Nothing else had changed. Just the grain.
Just enough to make a difference.
He logged the event later in his private scroll.
#7 – Dried Pulse Grain | Quantity Fold x4 | Final: 4 sacks
Triggered in underforge, possibly after secondary handling. Result hidden from tribe.
He didn't tell Kael.
Didn't tell Tharn.
When Sira returned from her watch that night, she asked what was going to happen when the dome dropped. When they could be seen. When they could see back.
Riku didn't answer.
He just looked up toward the smoky sky and listened to the forge breathe.
There was blood in the stone now.
There would be more.