They arrived as a relief force.
That was how the Covenant framed it.
A string of minor disturbances—failed resonance formations, unstable void fields, inexplicable calm zones—had begun to irritate regional authorities. None of it qualified as disaster. All of it disrupted control.
So the Covenant dispatched hunters.
Not soldiers.
Not inquisitors.
Specialists.
Anti-magic hunters operated outside doctrine. They did not cultivate. They did not resonate. Their bodies were altered through invasive suppression rituals, rendering them incompatible with elemental interaction.
They were blind to beauty.
But excellent at removing anomalies.
Vale encountered the first group two days later, on a mountain road narrowing into a pass. They stood casually beside their mounts, unarmed at a glance, dressed like mercenaries who had seen too many winters.
There were five of them.
Vale felt the wrongness immediately.
The air around them did not respond.
Not resisted.
Ignored.
That was rare.
Void denied interaction. Sound overwhelmed it. Wind negotiated.
These men rejected negotiation entirely.
Vale slowed his steps.
One hunter glanced up, eyes dull, unfocused. Not looking at Vale—through him.
"You feel that?" one asked quietly.
"No," another replied. "That's why I'm uneasy."
They were sensitive to absence.
Vale adjusted his Aether Ring subtly, tightening regulation until his presence thinned further. He did not want to test what happened when wind met bodies that refused elements altogether.
The hunters did not move.
Vale walked past them.
For three steps, nothing happened.
Then the third hunter frowned.
"Hold," he said.
Vale stopped.
"Something passed," the hunter continued. "Didn't register."
Another hunter turned slowly, gaze sliding across Vale without recognition.
"There," the first said. "That gap."
Vale turned calmly.
"Is there a problem?" he asked.
The sound of his voice registered normally. That confused them.
"No mana signature," one hunter muttered. "No resonance."
"Then what's bothering you?" another asked.
The first hunter hesitated.
"It's like the air adjusted around him."
Vale met his eyes.
"People tend to do that," he said mildly.
A pause followed.
The hunter's frown deepened.
"You're not the target," he said finally. "But you're close to it."
Vale inclined his head slightly. "I'll be on my way, then."
They let him pass.
Only when he had gone several dozen paces did the tension ease.
"Mark the area," the leader said quietly. "Something learned to hide."
Far from the pass, Covenant analysts received the report.
Anti-magic compatibility: inconclusive.
Subject passes through null-bodies without disruption.
Threat classification: elevated.
One word was appended to the file.
Adaptable.
Vale did not look back.
Anti-magic hunters were designed to end eras.
The fact that he had passed among them unnoticed did not comfort him.
It warned him.
The world was deploying tools built to erase exceptions.
And wind, by its nature, was nothing else.