The forest had fallen silent.
No birds, no insects, not even the wind. Only the faint crackle of dying embers filled the air. The earth still smoked from the heat of battle, blackened trees standing like burnt pillars against the pale sky.
Hunnt sat at the center of it all, back against a fallen trunk, his body stiff and heavy with exhaustion. His armor was cracked, his gauntlets blistered from the heat, and every breath drew pain deep into his ribs.
But he was alive.
That, somehow, didn't feel real.
A few meters away, Pyro slept under a bent slab of bark propped up as a shelter. His small chest rose and fell with effort, fur matted with soot. Every few breaths, his tail twitched — even in sleep, the little Palico hadn't escaped the echoes of battle.
Hunnt stared at him for a long time. A quiet sense of gratitude — raw, wordless — lingered somewhere behind the ache.
He leaned back, staring up at the sky. Ash still drifted, painting faint spirals through thin sunlight. He could still feel it in the air — that pressure, that unnatural stillness from when the wyvern fled. It hadn't left completely. It lingered, woven into the ground, the trees, and the rhythm of his own heartbeat.
He closed his eyes. The memory struck like a flame across darkness.
The wyvern's roar.
The rush of heat.
The moment when everything froze — when the world bent under something inside him that he didn't understand.
Hunnt exhaled slowly. That power… it wasn't strength. It was something deeper — something dangerous.
He looked at his hands. The skin beneath the armor was red and raw, faint tremors still running through his fingers.
Power without control isn't protection. It's destruction.
The thought settled heavy on his chest.
A soft groan broke the silence. Pyro stirred, blinking groggily, his golden eyes adjusting to the smoky light. "Nyaaah… my everything hurts."
Hunnt smiled faintly. "That means you're still alive."
Pyro yawned, stretching slowly. "Barely. I feel like I got cooked twice and then stepped on for dessert."
"That's a colorful description," Hunnt said quietly.
Pyro tilted his head, blinking up at him. "You don't look much better, Master."
Hunnt chuckled dryly. "Feel worse than I look."
For a moment, the silence between them returned — not heavy, just still. The forest beyond was nothing but gray and black, the faint hiss of cooling earth breaking the monotony.
Then Pyro asked the question Hunnt knew was coming. "What happened back there, nya? When everything stopped? That monster… it wasn't afraid of us before. But suddenly, it ran."
Hunnt stared down at the dirt. His voice came low. "It wasn't my strength that made it run."
"Then what was it?"
He thought for a moment before answering. "Will. Or something close to it. I wasn't trying to fight anymore — I just refused to fall."
Pyro's ears flicked. "Whatever it was, it made the world feel like it was holding its breath. Even I could barely move."
Hunnt nodded slightly. "That's what scares me."
"Scares you?"
"I couldn't control it. It wasn't a choice. It just… happened."
Pyro tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "And now?"
Hunnt exhaled. "Now I learn to control it. Or never use it again."
He pushed himself upright slowly, every muscle protesting the motion. His body felt heavier than usual, as if the lingering pressure still clung to him.
The ground beneath his boots was cracked and warm. He knelt, pressing his palm against the dirt. Beneath the scorched surface, something pulsed faintly — the last echo of that energy. It felt like touching a heartbeat buried under stone.
He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing, trying to match it — slow, calm, deliberate.
Pyro watched him quietly. "You're doing that thing again, Master. The one where you stop breathing and everything around you goes quiet."
Hunnt smiled faintly. "That's the point."
"Looks boring," Pyro muttered, sitting cross-legged.
Hunnt's voice softened. "It's supposed to be."
He stayed still for several minutes, listening — not with his ears, but with his presence. The sound of his pulse merged with the faint hum in the air. Gradually, that echo beneath the ground began to fade. Not vanish, just… calm.
When he finally opened his eyes, the world felt a fraction lighter.
Pyro blinked. "You done meditating?"
Hunnt stood, stretching stiffly. "For now."
Pyro tilted his head. "Did it work?"
Hunnt glanced at his hands. "It's quieter. That's a start."
Pyro frowned slightly. "You mean that… weird invisible wave?"
Hunnt nodded. "That wasn't strength, Pyro. That was will turned wild. If I let it go unchecked again, I could hurt more than I protect."
The little Palico crossed his arms. "Then you just don't let it get that far, nya."
Hunnt gave him a wry look. "You make it sound easy."
"It's not," Pyro said, tail flicking. "But it's you. You'll figure it out. You always do."
Hunnt smiled faintly. "You talk like someone twice my age."
"I feel twice your age," Pyro grumbled. "You humans make me tired."
Hunnt's laugh was soft but genuine — the first in days.
By the time the sun began to fall, the worst of the smoke had thinned. The air smelled faintly of pine and soot. They had gathered enough water from a surviving stream and built a small camp among the least-burned trees.
The fire crackled quietly as night descended. Pyro sat close, his fur finally drying, his eyes reflecting the flickering light.
"Master," he said softly, "what if that thing comes back?"
Hunnt didn't answer immediately. He watched the flames, the way they rose and fell with the wind. "Then I'll be ready. But next time, I won't just react. I'll understand."
Pyro yawned. "You sound like Coerl when he's lecturing."
Hunnt smirked. "Then maybe he was right all along."
Pyro chuckled tiredly. "He usually is."
They sat in silence a while longer. The night insects had not yet returned, but the forest no longer felt dead — only waiting.
Hunnt leaned back, closing his eyes, letting the warmth of the fire seep through his battered armor. The faint pulse of power beneath his skin was quiet now, settled like a heartbeat at rest.
"Control it," he murmured to himself. "Don't become it."
The flames flickered as if in answer.
Beside him, Pyro had already dozed off, his small form curled near the embers.
Hunnt opened his eyes once more, looking at the stars beyond the drifting smoke. The first faint constellations were visible again, fragile but real — like the promise of balance returning after chaos.
He smiled faintly. "Tomorrow," he whispered. "We start again."
And for the first time since the battle, he allowed his eyes to close, letting the forest breathe with him.