The next day passed slower than any before it. The excitement from the returning hunts had dulled into fatigue, and the settlement carried a quieter rhythm, hammering, sorting, and hushed talk about who hadn't come back.
Moss sat near one of the open sheds where supplies were being tallied. He and his party had already turned in their game and ore yesterday; now the meat was smoked and stored, and the mineral samples lay in crates stamped with Serra's seal. What remained was waiting, and wondering who else might not return.
Dole sat on a nearby crate, sharpening a short blade that had already seen too much use. "Word's spreading," he said. "Three more groups didn't make it back. Beasts, storms, one of 'em just… vanished."
Lyra exhaled softly as she checked over a bundle of bandages. "We're pushing too fast. People forget the frontier doesn't care how organized we are."
Moss said nothing. He watched the people moving through camp, the wounded, the tired, the ones who'd lost friends overnight. It was starting to look less like a colony and more like a desperate outpost.
Serra arrived midmorning, carrying the same crystal they'd used on their last hunt. Its faint blue shimmer was gone, replaced by a dull, cloudy sheen. She held it like a patient she couldn't quite save.
"So," Dole said, "that thing still breathing?"
Serra shot him a look. "Barely. The aether dissipated overnight. The containment array just can't hold it. I tried reinforcing the lattice with aether, tuned wire, but it's not enough."
Moss leaned forward slightly. "You said you thought it would last longer."
"I did," she admitted. "But the reaction's unstable here. Whatever keeps the Empire's machines running, the veil, the saturation of aether, it doesn't exist in the frontier. The energy here behaves like it's free for the first time, and it hates being trapped."
Lyra frowned. "So all that power's just… gone?"
"Not gone," Serra said. "Dispersed. The crystal slowed it, but not by much. If I could watch the transfer happen again, maybe I could learn how to strengthen the binding array."
Dole smirked. "You're saying you wanna come next time?"
Serra folded her arms. "Yes. I'm curious."
Dole chuckled. "Pretty sure the saying's 'curiosity killed the cat.'"
She arched a brow. "Then it's a good thing I'm not a cat."
Lyra laughed softly, the sound easing the tension. "Just stay close to us when we head out. It's safer in numbers."
Varrin joined them then, his clothes dusted from work near the stockpiles. "Heard the latest?" he asked. "More convoys coming in from the veil. Guess the Empire decided to send even more of us 'resource eaters.'"
Serra gave a dry smile. "Brilliant strategy, really. When they ran out of room for people they couldn't control, they just shipped them somewhere they wouldn't have to look at the problem anymore."
Dole grunted. "And now the problem's building their future for 'em."
By late afternoon, the settlement grew quieter. Groups counted supplies, tents were patched, and a few fires burned near the edges of camp. Someone played a tune on a flute, thin and off, key but comforting all the same.
Moss leaned on the fence overlooking the road that stretched back toward the Empire. The horizon shimmered faintly, heat or maybe something else. He could almost hear the faint hum of the earth again, the same pulse that made his chest tighten, heart quickening with each passing moment.
He wasn't sure if it was the wind… or something watching from far beyond the treeline.