Morning fog rolled into Willow Brook like it owned the place.
Not the gentle, lazy kind either. This one clung low to the ground, swallowing fences, rooftops, even familiar paths. The village looked smaller inside it. Claustrophobic. Like the world had decided to lean closer and watch.
Tianlian noticed that immediately.
Fog wasn't unusual. Willow Brook sat close to water and forest. But this one moved wrong. It didn't drift—it shifted. Subtle, deliberate, like someone nudging it aside step by step.
He slowed his pace.
Mei noticed instantly.
"Lian'er?" she whispered, fingers curling into his sleeve. "You stopped."
"Mm." His eyes scanned the air ahead. "Because it's rude to walk blindly into something that's clearly doing suspicious stuff."
She swallowed. "You feel it too?"
Instead of answering, Tianlian crouched and brushed his fingers through the dew-soaked grass. Cold clung to his skin longer than it should have. The droplets trembled—barely perceptible, but consistent.
There it was again.
A pattern.
Not raw power. Not pressure. More like… residue. The afterimage of movement.
His thoughts clicked into place.
Same feel as the stream. Same as the shrine. Same as the scorched patch in the east field.
"…Yeah," he said finally. "It's here."
Mei's grip tightened. "Is it dangerous?"
He stood, wiping his hands on his pants. "Depends."
"On what?"
"On whether it notices us before I notice it."
She grimaced. "That's not comforting."
"Honesty rarely is."
They moved forward again, slower now. Tianlian adjusted his breathing, letting his awareness stretch—not with qi, but with something cruder and more reliable. Attention. Habit. Pattern recognition.
The fog thickened.
Visibility dropped to a few meters. Shapes blurred. Sound dulled. Even the usual village noise felt distant, muffled, like echoes from somewhere else.
Crunch.
Tianlian stopped.
Not fear. Calculation.
The sound came again—controlled. Light. Too deliberate for an animal.
Mei leaned close. "Someone's there."
"Yeah," he muttered. "And they want us to know."
He took one step forward.
The fog parted.
Not violently. Not suddenly. Like it had been waiting for permission.
Tianlian exhaled. "Okay. That's dramatic."
A figure emerged.
Tall. Lean. Wrapped in a dull gray cloak that blended almost perfectly with the mist. A wooden staff rested in one hand—not gripping, not relaxed. Balanced.
The person stopped a few paces away.
No killing intent. No hostility. No warmth.
Just observation.
Tianlian met their gaze without flinching.
"So," he said casually, "you stalking kids for fun, or is this a professional thing?"
Mei inhaled sharply. "Lian—"
The figure tilted their head, genuinely surprised.
After a pause, they sighed and lowered their hood.
Young. Late teens, maybe. Sharp eyes. Calm expression. Someone trained to watch without reacting.
A scout, Tianlian decided. Or a tester.
Mei peeked from behind him. "Who… are you?"
The stranger's gaze flicked to her.
Something changed.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
Tianlian caught it instantly.
Ah. That's interesting.
"You shouldn't be here," the stranger said. Their voice was controlled. Neutral.
"Pretty sure we live here," Tianlian replied. "You're the one standing in suspicious fog like it's a personal domain expansion."
The stranger blinked.
"…You're unusual," they said.
"Yeah. I get that a lot."
Mei tugged his sleeve. "Lian'er…"
He leaned slightly toward her. "Behind me. And don't panic. Panic ruins observation."
She obeyed.
The stranger's eyes lingered on that movement longer than necessary.
"You're sensing things you shouldn't," the stranger said. "Both of you."
"Correction," Tianlian replied. "I'm sensing things nobody bothered to explain yet."
Silence.
The fog pulsed faintly, responding—not to the stranger, but to the space between them.
"What are you?" the stranger asked.
Tianlian shrugged. "Village kid. Professional errand runner. Aspiring non-background character."
Mei stared at him. "…What?"
"Later."
The stranger exhaled slowly. "This village is under observation."
Tianlian tilted his head. "Wow. You really know how to make a place feel safe."
"Recent disturbances," the stranger continued. "Resonances. Awakenings."
Mei stiffened.
Tianlian shifted—subtly, instinctively—blocking the stranger's line of sight.
"Awakenings?" he echoed. "Plural?"
The stranger frowned. "You don't know."
"Knowing requires teachers," Tianlian said evenly. "We're short on those."
Another pause.
This one weighed heavier.
Finally, the stranger reached into their sleeve and removed something small—a flat, coin-sized disc of dull stone. They pressed it lightly into the air.
The fog reacted.
Not violently. Precisely.
A faint ripple spread outward, then vanished.
The stranger frowned.
"…Interesting," they murmured.
"What was that?" Mei asked, voice tight.
"A record," the stranger said. "A marker."
Tianlian's eyes sharpened. "And?"
"And it didn't resolve," they replied quietly.
Silence fell harder than before.
The stranger stepped back. The fog closed in immediately, obedient as a curtain.
"You should stay away from the shrine," they said. "And the stream."
Tianlian raised an eyebrow. "That's basically an invitation."
A corner of the stranger's mouth twitched. "Figures."
Their gaze returned to Mei—lingering, conflicted.
"…Especially her," they added.
That wasn't a threat.
It was concern.
The fog surged.
The figure vanished.
But something remained.
A faint imprint in the air. A pressure that didn't belong to the village.
Mei exhaled shakily. "Lian'er… who was that?"
Tianlian stared at the empty space where the marker had failed to settle.
"Someone who just reported us," he said calmly.
Her face went pale. "Reported… us?"
"Yeah," he said. "Or at least tried to."
She hugged her arms. "That's not reassuring."
"No," Tianlian agreed. "But it means the village isn't invisible anymore."
The fog began to thin.
But it didn't fully leave.
And far beyond Willow Brook, somewhere that tracked patterns instead of people, a record remained open.
Unresolved.
Waiting.
Tianlian exhaled slowly.
"So," he murmured, mostly to himself, "guess we're past the tutorial."
Mei looked at him. "What does that mean?"
He smiled faintly.
"It means the world's going to start making mistakes about us."