Kael felt her before he saw her.
It wasn't the hunger reacting—not directly. It was something subtler, a shift in the way the air settled around his anchored core, like a surface tension disturbed by a foreign object.
Auren noticed it too.
"You felt that," he said quietly.
Kael nodded. "Someone crossed a line."
Serah's posture tightened near the doorway. "She didn't just cross it," she said. "She ignored it."
Auren exhaled slowly. "That's worse."
He turned toward the door and raised a hand—not to block, not to signal guards, but to acknowledge.
"Come in," he said.
The door opened without hesitation.
The woman who stepped inside did not look powerful.
That, Kael realized immediately, was deliberate.
She wore simple traveling robes in muted tones, unmarked by sect insignia or enchantment. Her dark hair was tied loosely at the nape of her neck, a few strands falling freely along her cheek. Her movements were unhurried, precise, as if the space around her adjusted rather than resisted.
Her eyes were what caught Kael's attention.
Clear. Focused. And utterly unafraid.
She looked at Auren first, then Serah—and finally Kael.
And unlike everyone else so far, she did not hesitate.
She did not flinch.
She did not look away.
"…So you're real," she said calmly.
Kael frowned. "I get that a lot."
Serah's hand drifted subtly closer to her blade.
"State your purpose," Serah said.
The woman smiled faintly.
"If I had hostile intent," she replied, "you'd already be reacting."
Serah didn't relax.
"That's not reassuring."
"It's accurate," the woman countered.
Auren cleared his throat softly. "You shouldn't be here."
"I know," the woman said. "That's why I came personally."
Her gaze returned to Kael.
"My name is Nyra," she said. "And I've been tracking the shape of your absence for three days."
Kael stiffened.
"You can do that?"
"Yes," Nyra replied. "Not easily. Not safely."
Serah's eyes narrowed. "Then explain why you're still breathing."
Nyra considered her for a moment.
"Because I didn't follow the pull," she said. "I followed the distortion around it."
Kael felt the hunger stir—alert, curious.
"That's… not normal," he said.
Nyra smiled slightly.
"Neither are you."
Silence settled over the room.
Auren studied Nyra carefully. "What do you want?"
Nyra didn't answer him immediately.
She stepped closer—slowly, deliberately—until she stood a few paces from Kael. The anchored space inside him tightened instinctively, testing her presence.
She felt it.
And instead of recoiling…
She adjusted her stance.
Kael's eyes widened slightly.
"You're compensating," he said.
Nyra nodded. "You bend the space around yourself inward," she said. "I anchor myself outward. It keeps me intact."
Serah swore under her breath.
"You're a stabilizer," she said. "A natural one."
Nyra inclined her head. "Among other things."
Auren's expression hardened. "This enclave is not a recruitment ground."
Nyra finally looked at him.
"I'm not here to recruit," she said. "I'm here to warn."
Kael's jaw tightened. "About what?"
Nyra met his gaze.
"About what noticed you before Heaven adjusted," she said.
The room seemed to grow colder.
"You mean the presence that followed me," Kael said.
"Yes," Nyra replied. "But not just one."
Serah's grip tightened.
"How many?" she asked.
Nyra hesitated—just a fraction too long.
"…More than you want," she said.
The hunger pulsed sharply.
Kael forced himself to stay calm. "Then why tell me?"
Nyra's expression shifted—not to fear, but to something more complicated.
"Because you anchored a remainder instead of consuming it," she said. "That choice narrowed the future."
Kael frowned. "Narrowed it how?"
Nyra stepped back slightly, giving him space.
"Before," she said, "the world had dozens of ways to correct you. Erase you. Redirect you."
"And now?"
"Now," Nyra replied, "those paths are closing."
Auren's eyes darkened. "Meaning?"
"Meaning," Nyra continued, "the forces watching you will stop experimenting."
Kael felt a chill settle deep in his chest.
"They'll commit," he said.
Nyra nodded.
"Yes."
Silence stretched.
Serah exhaled slowly. "And you?"
Nyra looked at her calmly.
"I represent an interest that does not want Heaven to win this cleanly," she said. "Nor do we want the old laws to wake unchecked."
Kael studied her carefully.
"So you want balance," he said.
Nyra shook her head.
"No," she said honestly. "We want leverage."
Kael laughed quietly. "At least you're honest."
Nyra smiled faintly.
"I learned a long time ago," she said, "that honesty is the only thing anomalies respect."
The anchored space inside Kael tightened again—not in threat, but in recognition.
Nyra felt it.
Her eyes widened slightly for the first time.
"…Interesting," she murmured.
Serah noticed immediately.
"What?" she demanded.
Nyra looked back at Kael.
"You're not just containing memory," she said slowly. "You're starting to organize it."
Kael's heart skipped.
"I didn't mean to."
Nyra's smile faded.
"That's worse," she said.
Auren stepped forward sharply.
"This meeting is over," he said. "You've said enough."
Nyra inclined her head. "For now."
She turned toward Kael one last time.
"When the next pressure hits," she said softly, "you'll feel tempted to expand."
Kael nodded slowly.
"Don't," Nyra said. "Compress."
The lantern flickered violently.
And for a split second, Kael saw something behind her reflection in the glass—layers of shifting symbols that did not belong to any known cultivation path.
Then she was gone.
Silence followed.
Serah turned to Kael slowly.
"…You attract dangerous women," she said.
Kael let out a shaky breath. "I'm noticing a pattern."
Auren rubbed his temples.
"This enclave just became visible," he said grimly. "Not to Heaven—but to things older."
Kael clenched his fists.
"What happens now?" he asked.
Auren looked at him.
"Now," he said, "you learn to move before the world finishes deciding what you are."
Outside, the lantern finally went out.
And somewhere beyond the enclave's borders, something adjusted its course—aiming not for Heaven's laws…
But for Kael himself.