The basin was silent.
Not peaceful—wrong.
Arion stood at the edge of the impact zone, boots planted against warped stone that had once been bedrock. The ground no longer held a natural Resonance flow. Instead, it pulsed in uneven waves, as if rejecting its own existence.
Beside him, Theal worked without speaking, layers of constructs orbiting his hands. Runes flared, collapsed, reformed—none stabilizing for more than a second.
Riven stood several paces back, blade drawn but lowered, his presence a pressure rather than a posture. His eyes never stopped moving.
"This place doesn't want to heal," Theal said finally. "It's pushing the energy out."
Arion crouched and reached toward the crystallized remains of a beast core.
The moment his Resonance touched it, pain flared—sharp, immediate.
He pulled back.
"That's not corruption," he said. "It's rejection."
Theal nodded. "Exactly. Their Resonance doesn't integrate. It overwrites. Forces compliance."
Riven spoke for the first time. "Like a foreign body."
"Yes," Theal replied. "And the world is responding accordingly."
Static crackled in Arion's ear.
"Report," Keal's voice cut in over comms, already layered with military channels behind it.
"The zone is contained," Arion said. "But the residue isn't decaying normally. It's… being expelled."
Lysandra's voice joined, crisp and controlled. "We're mobilizing perimeter forces. If this spreads—"
"It won't spread like a plague," Theal interrupted. "It's too deliberate."
Jun exhaled audibly over the channel. "Deliberate how?"
Before Theal could answer, Maren's last sensor drone—damaged but functional—pinged once, projecting a ghostly outline above the basin.
A trail.
Jagged. Uneven. Unlike human Resonance flow.
"Beast signatures are still readable," Theal said, adjusting the feed. "But they're distorted. Murky. Their Resonance isn't drawn from the environment—it's stored."
Arion frowned. "Like a reservoir."
"Yes. Core-based. The larger the core, the more unstable the emission pattern." Theal zoomed in. "Which means these weren't wild migrations. They were driven. Herded."
Riven's grip tightened on his blade. "By what."
No one answered immediately.
Then Asha's voice came through the comms, quieter than the rest.
"I can't sense them anymore," she said. "But I can feel where they were."
"And?" Mira asked.
A pause.
"The world feels… offended."
That word landed heavier than any technical term.
Arion straightened slowly. "So they're not just invading territory."
"No," Theal said. "They're testing compatibility."
Keal's voice sharpened. "Compatibility with what?"
Theal hesitated.
"I don't know yet," he admitted. "But whatever Resonance they're using—their world is older. It has established laws. Memory. Structure."
Riven turned slightly. "And they don't fit."
"Exactly."
Another channel opened—military telemetry scrolling rapidly.
"Casualty report confirmed," Lysandra said, voice steady but tight. "Instructor Darian Holt stabilized. He's lost his left hand. Three students deceased. One confirmed fourth-year."
Silence followed.
Even the comms seemed to hold their breath.
Arion closed his eyes briefly.
"Liria," Mira said quietly.
"Yes," Lysandra confirmed. "She held the line long enough for extraction."
Riven bowed his head once.
Just once.
Jun broke the quiet. "The Academy will need to be informed."
"They will," Arion said. "But not yet. Let the students stabilize first."
Theal dismissed the projection. "There's one more thing."
Everyone waited.
"The Resonance signature we intercepted during the incursion," he continued. "It wasn't local. And it wasn't fractured-plane either."
Arion looked at him sharply. "Then where did it originate?"
Theal shook his head. "I don't know. But the world reacted to it differently. Like recognizing something it didn't want back."
Riven's voice was low. "Meaning this isn't the first time."
"No," Theal said. "Just the first time they've pushed this hard."
Keal exhaled slowly over comms. "Then we assume intent."
"Yes," Arion agreed. "But not specifics."
Mira's voice trembled slightly. "They killed our students."
"They tested us," Arion corrected. "And now they know we can bleed."
He looked out over the basin one last time.
The stone beneath his feet hummed faintly, resisting the lingering Resonance like a scar that refused to close.
"Whatever they want," he said calmly, "they haven't told us yet."
Riven sheathed his blade. "They will."
As the extraction transports descended and the basin was sealed under military protocol, something unseen shifted beyond the horizon.
Watching.
Learning.
And preparing to ask the question that would change everything.