---
The campfire glowed brighter as more dishes came out, Hale moving like a whirlwind of efficiency with a ladle in one hand and a sizzling pan in the other. He muttered something about "feeding an army" while Nico kept trying to sneak a taste from the counter, only to get smacked on the wrist with Hale's wooden spoon.
The Lucky Hero's Table
At the far end, Milo's party settled back into their comfort zone. Rhea sat rigid as ever, posture straight as though she were eating at a palace banquet, while Aden cracked jokes about the new biome, waving his spoon like a conductor's baton. The muscular man devoured two bowls back-to-back, broth dripping into his beard.
Milo himself ate more slowly, quietly, his eyes straying toward Riven's table where Princess Neptis now sat. He still wasn't used to the weight of admiration—or expectation. The Light was supposed to make him radiant. But tonight, he felt more like a shadow in someone else's glow.
---
Nico's Boasting
Closer to the firepit, Nico sat with a circle of Travelers, a bowl of noodles steaming in his hand as he waved the other theatrically.
"Listen, if Milo can get ten points off stacking logs, I can build a palace. No, a fortress! Walls that'll reach the clouds, stairs that spiral like dragons, windows that gleam with Vita! I've been holdin' back, but maybe it's time I stop."
The blue-ranked newcomers leaned closer, eating up every word. "Can you really do that?" one whispered.
Nico grinned, teeth sharp. "Course I can. I'll show you tomorrow."
Someone muttered, "He sounds like a show-off," but their eyes still glimmered with awe.
---
Patchouli's Table
Not far off, Patchouli had drawn a whole small crowd of new Travelers. She leaned on one elbow, her lavender hair shining faintly in the firelight, that ever-present smile making even her casual words feel like secrets.
"And then," she said sweetly, "I convinced a goblin elder to let us name their young ones. Isn't that precious? Names are such a powerful thing—do you know goblins never had them until we helped? Now they look at us like family."
A nervous teen laughed too loud, trying to impress her. "You're amazing, Patchouli."
She tilted her head, smile widening. "No, I just like helping people. But thank you."
Goldie padded by her side, tail flicking, as if keeping quiet watch.
---
Riven and Neptis
At the central table, Riven sat with Princess Neptis, Aurelia beside him. Neptis, cool and detached, drank from her crystal flask of Elyspirit Water as though it were nothing more than common tea.
"Your camp is… different," she said flatly, setting the flask down. "Noisy. But structured. It feels like something that might last."
Riven brushed his dark hair back, giving her a sharp, tired smile. "That's the plan. To build something that does last."
Aurelia snorted. "If Nico doesn't burn it down first."
Neptis's gaze drifted across the camp, settling for a moment on Oliver, Garrick, and Milo in turn. Something unreadable flickered in her eyes before she spoke again.
"And when the beast comes?" she asked quietly.
The table fell silent. Only the crackle of the fire and the distant chatter of Travelers filled the space.
Riven finally answered, voice steady. "We'll be ready."
---
Back to Oliver & Garrick
Oliver glanced around at it all—the boasting, the laughing, the silent tension sitting with the leaders. He spooned another bite of earthy mushroom broth into his mouth, chewing slowly.
"This world's strange," he muttered.
Garrick slurped loudly. "Strange, yeah. But… kinda nice, too. Beats bein' nobody, right?"
Oliver gave him a faint, tired smile. "Yeah. Beats that."
Above them, sparks rose from the fire, drifting into the night sky where stars blinked faintly—silent witnesses to everything building beneath them.
Tomorrow, Avernal awaited.
---