Chapter Text
•|§∆§|•
The sun climbed high into the sky, its gentle rays filtering through the tree leaves, casting flickering shadows across the ground. The grass, swaying lightly in the breeze, brushed against Saparata's face, tickling his skin like soft feathers, gradually rousing him from a profound slumber. At first, he only sensed that mild rocking, as if nature itself were attempting to awaken him, while the scent of fresh soil and blooming flowers filled his nostrils, blending with the salty gust from the nearby ocean.
Opening his eyes, Saparata blinked several times, striving to adjust his vision to the brilliant daylight. His eyelids felt heavy, as though he had slept for centuries, and his body was numb from lying on the soft, verdant turf. He propelled himself into a sitting position, pressing his hands against the earth, which seemed so vibrant and yielding beneath his fingers-not like a rigid slab, but like genuine, breathing dirt. Surveying his surroundings, his breathing quickened. The vista that greeted him evoked tales of paradise from ancient stories. Before him stretched a lush, emerald expanse dotted with vibrant blossoms-scarlet poppies, golden dandelions, and azure cornflowers, all undulating lazily in the wind. Towering trees of various species rose proudly: oaks with thick trunks, birches with pale bark, and even exotic varieties alongside massive mushrooms. In the distance, the murmur of a stream mingled with the crash of waves against the shore. It took Separata a prolonged moment to comprehend his location. His mind remained foggy from sleep, but the final recollection echoed in his thoughts: the enigmatic talk of two islands, the impulsive choice he made to select the second one. From what he observed now, he had opted wisely-this land radiated abundance and tranquility. Yet a shadow of doubt crept over him, sparking a question: what, then, did the first island resemble, if this one embodied prosperity? He shook his head, banishing those notions, concentrating on the present.
To avoid lingering on the ground any longer, Saparata rose to his unsteady feet, sensing his muscles protesting after prolonged immobility. He stretched his arms, arching his back and hearing faint cracks in his joints. He had no idea how long he had dozed-hours, days? The sun hovered at its zenith, projecting short shadows, signaling midday. And he possessed no implements or shelter for the approaching night, which might bring perils. His stomach grumbled softly, reminding him of hunger, and his thoughts swiftly shifted to survival mode. He advanced toward the nearest tree-a mighty oak with rough bark that scraped his palms as he clenched his fists. He began harvesting wood blocks bare-handed, feeling each strike reverberate through his arms. The timber splintered with a distinctive snap, and the chunks tumbled to the earth with a gratifying thud. He swiftly gathered a few, envisioning a simple pattern in his mind-crafting, an innate skill he knew intuitively. He fashioned his initial workbench, a basic table from planks, which he placed on the meadow, its surface gleaming faintly in the sunlight. Wooden tools materialized rapidly: a pickaxe, an axe, a sword-lightweight but fragile. Then he excavated stones from a nearby hillock, their cool, gritty texture contrasting with the day's warmth. Stone pickaxe, sword, and axe proved sturdier, and he transformed the remaining rocks into a furnace, a straightforward stone oven positioned beside the table. The aroma of smoke from the first kindling permeated the air, instilling a sense of advancement. He intended to smelt food he would soon acquire, but for now, he had to content himself with what was available.
He still hadn't encountered any living beings-no sheep grazing in the field, no cows lowing afar. The forest appeared vacant, though teeming with plant life. He surmised that everyone-humans and animals-had congregated deeper inland, since he remained on the fringes. Just behind him extended the endless sea, its waves pounding the coast with a rhythmic whoosh, and the horizon dissolved into azure. Saparata experienced a slight shiver-solitude in such a spot could prove hazardous.
Venturing eastward, where the sun guided his path, he soon stumbled upon a cluster of crimson and tawny mushrooms sprouting from the damp soil beneath the trees. Their caps were fleshy, emitting an earthy fragrance. He collected several, arranging them on the workbench and combining them in a basic recipe-mushroom stew, thick and nourishing, materialized in his grasp like sorcery. The initial sip was soothing, tasting like a homemade meal, providing his first sustenance and vigor for the journey ahead.
Before delving into the woods, he decided to stroll along the perimeter, memorizing the landscape's contours-it could prove useful if he needed to return or navigate after dark. The scent of seaside waves teased his senses, briny and invigorating, as he treaded the sandy shore. The grains crunched underfoot, and the swells gently lapped the edge, leaving foam and bubbles that burst swiftly.
Saparata paused momentarily, gazing at the sea where the sun sparkled on the water like myriad sparks. He pondered his future: once he discovered some civilization, would he align with a faction, becoming part of a collective? Or perhaps he would ascend to leadership, already envisioning what he desired to construct-maybe a grand fortress of sandstone enveloped in foliage that would enliven this locale? These ideas swirled in his mind, intertwining with the ocean's roar, fueling his drive.
After a prolonged wander-perhaps an hour-the coastline began curving, leading Saparata onto more expansive terrain. The grass here was shorter, the view broader: meadows transitioning into hills. The first thing that caught his attention was felled trees-stumps trimmed evenly, missing wood segments, indicating someone had been here. Saparata's pulse raced; this signified society, human activity. With a hint of a grin on his face, he veered from the shore, heading inland with optimism that he would encounter whoever had chopped those trunks. He proceeded cautiously, passing berry bushes from which he plucked a handful for later-their tart-sweet flavor refreshed him during the trek.
He didn't have to search long, as within a dozen paces, voices reached him-human laughter, the resonance of chatter carried on the breeze. Saparata's heart quickened; these weren't animals, these were people. Pressing onward, he approached the sounds, skirting additional hillocks adorned with grass and blooms. Finally, emerging from behind one, he beheld a cluster of five individuals debating something near a workbench. They stood in a circle, gesturing animatedly-all appeared to be men, one holding tools, two examining a map, and the other two stacking blocks.
"Hello, nice to see new faces, I'm Saparata," he called out boldly, drawing nearer, his tone confident despite an inner flutter of nerves. His gaze fixed on the man in the center with ebony, wavy locks and violet eyes that shimmered like amethysts under the sun.
Alpha. He realized in an instant as the stranger took a few steps toward him. A gentle zephyr carried his scent right to Saparata's nose, causing him to freeze momentarily under the influence of those peculiar alpha pheromones. They evoked a fusion of sun-warmed hide and musk-a profound, grounded essence that stirred primal urges and made the atmosphere feel thicker. Saparata sensed a faint tingling on his skin, as if the pheromones enveloped him in an invisible veil of dominance and safeguard. The alpha approached with a deliberate, assured gait, his lengthy robe in hues of purple and black with golden linings swaying with each motion-the fabric opulent, adorned with subtle patterns that glistened in the light, implying rank and authority. At last, he halted before the shorter of the two, scrutinizing Saparata's form from head to toe, his violet eyes inquisitive yet not hostile.
"Pleasure to meet you, Saparata, right? I'm Fluixon, vice president of Luminara. Feel secure on these grounds," he uttered in a welcoming, resonant voice, extending his hand. Separata eagerly clasped it, experiencing a firm, reliable grip that conveyed trust and power. Around the assembly wafted the odor of timber from the workbench and freshly baked bread from a nearby oven, while the others' chuckles subsided, all eyeing the newcomer with intrigue.
Fluixon, still exuding an aura of self-assurance, motioned toward his companions. "Please, meet the rest of the team. This is Gotoga, Thomas, Snowbird, and Hvyrotation," he announced, pointing to each in turn. Separata, lingering slightly aside, observed them keenly. Gotoga, tall and broad-shouldered with fair hair tied in a casual ponytail, offered a wide, amiable beam while munching a piece of bread he held. Thomas, with a pickaxe slung over his shoulder, bore a more solemn expression, his dark eyes gleaming with resolve. Snowbird, slender and agile with fair complexion and freckles, nodded with a subtle smile, as if appraising Saparata. Hvyrotation, the shortest in the group and of similar stature to Sap, with curly blond tresses and lively gestures, waved enthusiastically, his zeal contagious. Saparata, without realizing when it occurred, stepped closer, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the newfound acquaintances. Their relaxed demeanor and cordial greeting made him feel as though he already belonged.
The discussion his arrival interrupted revolved around strategies-they were all deliberating when to venture into the mines for resources.
"We've got a farm and a stockpile of lumber; it's high time to extract some iron and gold, perhaps even diamonds," Thomas declared, his voice low and pragmatic. He gripped his pickaxe as if prepared to depart at once. Separata noted that Thomas's tool was somewhat worn, with minor scratches on the stone edge, yet still robust. The man seemed like someone experienced and unafraid of toil. Gotoga, swallowing a bite of bread that smelled like newly baked pastry, added: "Don't overlook coal. We need at least half a stack of torches to illuminate the area when darkness falls." His manner was casual, but his gaze held a spark of vigilance, as if he knew the hazards lurking in the depths. Saparata glanced at the workbench, where tools and several loaves lay scattered, and in the background stood the oven, from which faint smoke rose, indicating smelting ore or cooking meals.
Fluixon promptly took charge, his delivery assured but not overwhelming. "I concur; we ought to scout for a cavern. The sooner we commence, the better." He turned toward Saparata, his violet eyes sparkling in the daylight. "Did you spot any cave along the way?" he inquired, with a trace of curiosity, as if hoping the newcomer brought tidings. Saparata, feeling mild embarrassment, rubbed his neck, sensing the warmth of his own sun-heated skin under his fingers. "I followed the coast and nothing like that stood out, sorry, I can't assist much," he replied, shrugging. Fluixon nodded understandingly, his robe shimmering in the sun as he shifted. "In that case, we'll split into two squads. Thomas, Hvyrotation, and Snowbird head south, while I, Gotoga, and Saparata proceed east, deeper into the woodland." Everyone assented without hesitation, their actions coordinated, as if they had collaborated this way many times before.
Suddenly, Fluixon lifted his head, as if recalling something. His gaze returned to Saparata, a hint of remorse in his eyes. "Forgive me, I didn't ask if you wish to join us," he stated, his tone genuine, which surprised Sap. The latter relaxed, appreciating that Fluixon respected his autonomy, despite being an alpha. "No harm done; actually, I could use some iron ore, so I'd gladly accompany you," he responded with a grin, his light hair glistening in the sun as he adjusted it with a swift gesture. Fluixon gave him an approving look, a spark in his eyes making Saparata feel valued. The group sprang into motion-each collected their gear, pickaxes, swords, some provisions, and torches. The workbench was temporarily abandoned, and the oven continued to hiss quietly, burning leftover wood inside. The two teams dispersed in their respective directions, and Saparata, walking alongside Fluixon and Gotoga, felt adrenaline surging through his veins. The forest ahead thickened, trees growing taller, their canopies forming a verdant roof through which sunbeams pierced in shafts of light.
Saparata, treading on cushy moss that softened his steps, initiated conversation to break the quiet. "Good thing we ended up on this second island. I dread imagining what's awaiting over there, on the other side," he remarked, glancing back toward the ocean. The waves still hummed distantly, and the horizon remained barren, devoid of land. The mere awareness that another island existed somewhere stirred mild unease in him. Fluixon, leading the way, regarded him with a faint smile. "You're correct. Thanks to being on the richer land, we can thrive faster than those folks. The key is to appear markedly stronger before they arrive." His inflection was composed, but it harbored certainty that prompted Saparata to raise an eyebrow. "Arrive?" he queried, genuinely perplexed. Gotoga, strolling beside, chuckled briefly, the sound echoing among the trunks. "Those from the first island," Fluixon clarified, his expression turning graver. "Once they amass enough might, they'll launch an assault to seize our wealth. Thus, we must prepare-not just our crew, but the entire second island-to possess adequate force to vanquish the first's inhabitants if needed."
These words disconcerted Saparata. He hadn't genuinely considered that people from the first island might embark on conquest. However, viewing it from this angle-if the first land was truly a barren wasteland, lacking food and ample materials-conflict seemed a rational outcome. Starvation and despair could drive individuals to extreme measures. "Perhaps... we could offer them aid?" he suggested tentatively, seeking an alternative. At that instant, he observed Fluixon's hand tighten more firmly on his sword hilt, and the alpha's scent, previously inviting and musky, turned sharp, almost piercing to the senses. Separata's inner omega instinct flared immediately, swifter than he could suppress it. His physique responded reflexively-his heart pounded faster, and his head bowed slightly, as if in silent submission. Fluixon appeared oblivious, pressing on with his discourse. "Extend a hand, and they'll deem us feeble. Only a display of our island's prowess can avert war. But for now, let's concentrate on our own endurance, alright?" he conveyed, his manner factual yet not harsh.
Saparata, still under the instinct's sway, halted in place, not following them. His feet seemed rooted to the soil, and his mind battled a wave of feelings triggered by the alpha's response. Fluixon, after a few strides, noticed his absence and paused, turning toward him. "Everything alright?" he asked, his voice now milder, as if sensing something amiss. Separata raised his head, requiring a few seconds to compose himself. Upon realizing his omega instinct had taken over, he felt heat on his cheeks-embarrassment mingled with relief that Fluixon didn't probe further. "Yes, all fine, I got lost in thought," he answered, forcing a smile. Fluixon studied him for a moment, his violet eyes probing, as if trying to decipher something, but before he could speak, Gotoga's voice rang out from afar. "Found a cave! It looks profound!" he shouted, pointing to a shadowy recess in the hillside, where the ground descended into the earth, revealing rocky walls.
Fluixon perked up, heading toward Gotoga. "Gotoga, summon the others. If they haven't located any cavern, return here," he directed, and Gotoga nodded, dashing south, his footfalls thumping on the terrain. Separata, still harboring mild chagrin, trailed Fluixon, who entered the cave first. Inside, it was chilly, and the moist air carried the odor of damp stone and soil. Fluixon placed torches, their warm glow reflecting off the surfaces, unveiling glistening veins of iron ore and coal. "Let's start by mining coal and iron," he suggested, without turning, busy crafting a furnace and workbench. Separata nodded, seizing his pickaxe and commencing labor. The clang of metal against rock echoed rhythmically, and coal fragments dropped with a soft clink.
As they dug, at one point they stood in close proximity. In the cave's confinement, where the smell of sweat intermingled with humid air, Saparata's pure aroma-subtle, almost floral, with a hint of something inviting-reached Fluixon. The alpha froze, his pickaxe suspended mid-air. Instinct informed him an omega was nearby, sharpening his senses to every detail. Saparata, detecting the stare boring into his back, pivoted slowly, meeting Fluixon's gaze. His eyes, formerly violet, were now almost entirely consumed by dilated pupils, leaving only a slender ring of amethyst hue. "Sap, are you an omega?" Fluixon questioned, his voice deep, almost thrumming, sending a shiver down Saparata's spine. Common sense screamed danger, being alone in a cavern with an alpha, but the omega instinct infused his veins with liquid serenity, as if assuring Fluixon wouldn't harm him. "Yes... is that an issue?" he replied uncertainly, his heart racing quicker. Fluixon remained silent briefly, as if wrestling internally, then shook his head, pressing a hand to his temple. His eyes normalized, and the alpha's scent softened. "Issue? No... it's..." he trailed off, as if unsure what to articulate. "Agh, sorry, I didn't anticipate that. I hope I didn't alarm you too much, huh?" he inquired, his tone gentle again, laced with concern. Saparata exhaled in relief. "No, not excessively," he responded, smiling faintly, his pulse slowing.
Fluixon eased up, resting his pickaxe on his shoulder. "Gotoga, Snowbird, and Hvyrotation are betas. Thomas is an alpha. You're the first omega in our ensemble, Sap. Can I call you Sap? Saparata is rather lengthy," he proposed with a slight grin. Sap nodded, feeling tension drain from his frame. "Sure, Sap sounds fine," he affirmed, his voice lighter. Soon after, the rest of the group arrived, reporting their cave yielded only coal and copper. Everyone dove into tasks, extracting ores and melting them in the furnace Fluixon had set in the corner. Smoke drifted lazily, and the oven's heat contrasted with the underground chill.
When Fluixon gathered sufficient iron, something stirred within him-an urge to protect, which he didn't fully comprehend. Crafting two iron pickaxes, he looked at Sap, who mined zealously though his stone tool teetered on disintegration. The alpha's scent, warm and musky, reached Sap before his words. "Sap, I've got something for you," Fluixon said, handing him the new, gleaming implement. "I made a pair, and you could use a fresh one, judging by your old one's condition." Sap regarded him with mild astonishment, not expecting such a kindness. "Thanks," he expressed genuinely, accepting the item and resuming digging. Fluixon stayed near, mining adjacent, his presence making Sap feel more secure. Amid the clatter of pickaxes and the group's laughter, Saparata felt for the first time that day that he fit in this realm-among folks who welcomed him openly, where since awakening on this island, he sensed affiliation with a community.
•|§∆§|•
Two weeks had elapsed since Saparata awoke on this idyllic island, and his existence in Luminara, under Fluixon's guidance, had gained momentum. During this period, their community flourished-they collectively amassed enough materials to equip themselves with gleaming diamond armor that sparkled in the sunlight like jewels, along with instruments whose sharpness and durability inspired awe. The workbench in the town's heart buzzed almost ceaselessly with activity, and furnaces roared, fusing ore into ingots. Luminara not only thrived but expanded-fresh arrivals joined nearly daily, contributing unique talents and narratives. Wooden huts, initially mere basic refuges, gave way to sturdier structures of stone and polished granite, and the streets brimmed with the buzz of dialogues, mirth, and labor sounds. Yet Luminara wasn't the sole settlement on the island advancing at such a pace. Rumors circulated that to the south, in a vast valley ringed by mountains, Tricolour was expanding-the largest and most dominant community on the land, renowned for colossal edifices and sophisticated farming that yielded wheat reserves for extended durations.
Along with the island's growth came troubling reports from the first island. Whispers among the affluent island's denizens spoke of disorder and desperation. Inhabitants there rebelled, hanging posters and disseminating messages voicing their discontent. Their terrain was sterile, rife with sand, rocks, and wintry desolation, with scarcely one colossal tree at the center and surrounding waters heated by a volcano so scorching they could boil someone alive. Famine and scarcity of resources pushed them to their limits, whereas residents of the second island, including Luminara, dwelt in plenty, amid verdant forests, fertile fields, and plentiful mineral deposits. These accounts sowed seeds of uncertainty among Luminara's ordinary citizens. In taverns and at workbenches, murmurs arose about a potential invasion once the "gates" fell, permitting free passage between the lands. Fear of battle loomed, though no one dared voice it aloud.
That evening, as the sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of tangerine and lavender, Fluixon and Saparata stood at the shore's edge, observing the placid ocean swells. The wind bore the fragrance of brine and moist soil, and afar, outlines of bridge foundations were visible-a endeavor evoking as much optimism as apprehension. Fluixon held one of the posters that had reached Luminara, its edges frayed from transit. The text was straightforward but laden with bitterness: "Why do you have everything, and we nothing?" Fluixon glanced at it, his violet eyes glinting in the setting sun's glow, mirroring both resolve and a touch of anxiety. "This is what I meant, Sap. These banners only validate my suspicions. Conflict is inevitable," he articulated, his voice steady yet edged with sharpness that sent a chill through Separata. The omega stood beside the alpha, clutching his diamond sword's hilt, its cool surface offering reassurance. He remained unsure how to feel about the whole ordeal-his heart torn between empathy for the first island's dwellers and fidelity to Luminara.
"I still believe we could assist them," he murmured softly, staring at the waves crashing rhythmically against the coast. His tone was hesitant but honest, carrying the same naive aspiration he had voiced two weeks prior. Fluixon's gaze instantly shifted from the sea to him, his violet eyes narrowing slightly, as if endeavoring to pierce the omega's thoughts. "You're deadly wrong, Sap," he countered, his inflection cooler, almost stern. "If we demonstrate willingness to surrender our materials and nourishment, they'll demand more than we can provide. They'll perceive us as vulnerable, and then there'll be no turning back." Saparata tightened his fingers on the sword grip, sensing his omega instinct react to the alpha's manner-it wasn't yet a full command tone, but close enough to tense his body involuntarily. "What do you intend, then?" he probed, striving to sound resolute despite mounting doubt within. Fluixon smiled faintly, but his eyes lacked warmth-only a flash of what could be confidence or secrecy. "you'll see," he replied tersely, his sight drifting to the bridge foundations looming distantly, partly veiled in evening mist.
Silence between them grew oppressive, interrupted solely by the waves' hum and distant bird calls returning to nests. Saparata, aiming to dispel the strain, spoke again: "I was considering venturing to Tricolour and other settlements. Observe how they're faring, perhaps learn about their schemes." Before the words fully resonated, Fluixon's head whipped toward him with lightning speed. The alpha's violet eyes widened in abrupt shock, and his lips formed a single, cutting word: "No." The manner in which he uttered it was pure alpha command-profound, vibrating, bearing a power in omegaverse that was almost tangible. Fluixon's pheromones, typically inviting and musky, turned piercing, nearly overpowering, encasing Saparata like an unseen cage. The omega's body reacted instantly-his feet anchored to the ground, breath hastened, and heart throbbed faster, as if instinct demanded utter obedience. Saparata stared at Fluixon in astonishment, bewildered and disoriented, unable to fathom the source of this vehement response. The alpha, witnessing his reaction, realized what he had done. His face contorted in evident regret, and his pheromones mellowed, though still lingering. "Damn, forgive me, Sap," he said, raking his hair with a hand in embarrassment. "Just... don't go now. Not at night; it could be risky." He smiled, but his eyes betrayed worry, the expression forced. Saparata, still dazed, inhaled deeply, attempting to steady his frame. "I wasn't planning to depart now," he replied, trying to sound casual. "You're right; traveling after dark is unwise."
The tension between them lingered, dense and almost palpable, when footsteps approached. Thomas, the other alpha in the group, neared them, his figure emerging from the shadows of nearby trees. From afar, he detected Fluixon's sharp pheromones mingling with Saparata's gentler, floral essence. One glance at their rigid postures sufficed to grasp that something had transpired. Pretending not to notice the heavy ambiance, he addressed Fluixon: "Hey, we require you in town. There's an issue with supply organization; your input as vice president would help." His demeanor was easygoing, but his eyes flashed awareness that his intervention was more about diffusing the situation than genuine urgency. Fluixon nodded, grateful for the excuse. Before leaving, his hand-seemingly guided by instinct-landed on Saparata's shoulder. The touch, though brief, was affectionate and almost nurturing, and the alpha's scent infused the omega's armor fabric, leaving a subtle, musky trace that awakened something primal, deeply rooted in Saparata's omega nature. "Sap, prepare everything needed for the trip," Fluixon advised, his voice softer, almost pleading. "But set out at dawn, okay?" With that, he departed with Thomas, leaving Saparata alone on the shore.
Once the two alphas were at a safe distance, Thomas couldn't hold back. He nudged Fluixon's shoulder lightly, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement, though tinged with seriousness. "What happened there? You looked ready to pounce on him." Fluixon halted, feeling warmth of shame creep up his neck. As an alpha and one of Luminara's leaders, he despised revealing any signs of frailty, and that impulsive outburst was precisely that-a flaw in his impeccable facade. "He mentioned wanting to journey to other communities, check their progress, and I..." he faltered, hesitant to confess what he'd done. Thomas arched a brow, his look more probing. "And you used the tone to forbid it, correct?" he asked, though his inflection implied he knew the truth. Fluixon met his eyes briefly before averting his gaze, sensing an odd weight of guilt. "Yes," he admitted quietly, his voice nearly a whisper. Thomas sighed, placing hands on hips. "Why not just bond with him, Fluixon? It's evident something sparks between you. Your pheromones go wild when he's near." Those words made Fluixon flinch, his eyes widening in surprise. "Bond? You're kidding? It's not like I want to bite him and claim him as mine," he retorted, but his words rang like a feeble excuse, even to himself. "Simply... his pheromones distract me. I don't know what's occurring." Thomas regarded him for a moment, then shook his head with a soft smile. "Don't disregard your instincts, Fluixon. That only exacerbates things. Such matters don't vanish if you suppress them." Fluixon acknowledged, though unconvinced. "Thanks for pulling me away from Sap. I wasn't sure how to extricate myself. The town issue was a solid pretext," he said sincerely. Thomas laughed quietly, flashing a wry grin. "Actually, I wasn't joking. We have a real supply dilemma-we need your ruling as vice president." Fluixon sighed inwardly, knowing another round of duties awaited.
Meanwhile, Saparata returned to his provisional dwelling-a modest yet cozy cabin of wood and stone, with a bed in the corner and a chest brimming with stores. He removed his diamond armor, which weighed on his shoulders, and sat on the bed, staring at the flickering torch flame on the wall. Thoughts of the events from minutes ago still swirled in his head. Fluixon's use of the alpha tone echoed like a reverberation-he couldn't shake the sensation evoked by that deep, commanding resonance. For his omega instinct, an alpha's tone held almost mystical power, capable of subjugating him even against his will. What troubled Sap most was that Fluixon's reaction was so spontaneous, utterly mismatched to his typically composed, methodical persona. "I should stay," he thought abruptly, the idea so alien that he paused packing to breathe. From the start, he hadn't intended to remain in Luminara permanently. He dreamed of his own ventures-He shouldn't let an alpha's instinct sway his choices. He resumed packing, stowing bread reserves, mushroom stew, several iron ingots, and a diamond pickaxe into his bag. He didn't know how long visiting all settlements would take, but he wanted readiness.
Night descended swiftly, and with it, Luminara sank into stillness. Most inhabitants slumbered, conserving energy for the next day's endeavors and constructions. As morning brightened the sky, Sap consumed a hasty meal-a slice of bread and an apple, tasting sweet and revitalizing. He grabbed his diamond sword from the chest, feeling its weight in his palm, and exited the cabin, heading along the path to Tricolour. The air was crisp, and dew sparkled on the grass, reflecting the rising sun's rays. In the distance, from his home's window, Fluixon watched Saparata's silhouette vanish among the trees. His heart clenched with an inexplicable tightness. He tried convincing himself it was merely alpha instinct responding to an omega's presence, but deep down, he sensed it was more. He turned, stepping outside to attend vice presidential duties, though thoughts of Sap persisted in his mind like a stubborn shadow.