Morning came quietly.
Not the kind of quiet that felt earned—just the absence of interruption. No screams. No sudden movement. No heavy shapes testing the treeline.
Damien opened his eyes and stayed where he was for a moment, listening.
Breathing. Shifting. Someone coughing a little too hard and then stopping when they realized they were being heard.
No alarm.
That was new.
As people woke, they didn't reach for weapons right away. A few stretched. Someone cracked their neck and winced. Another laughed softly at something said under their breath.
The forest remained where it had been the night before—pressed back beyond the stone, dark and still.
With daylight, the ground revealed more of itself.
The stone wasn't a single flat sheet like it had seemed in the dark. It rose and dipped in shallow waves, broken by long cracks and uneven ridges that cut across sightlines. In some places, the slabs stacked slightly higher, forming natural steps. In others, they dipped low enough that soil tried—and failed—to reclaim them.
Trees didn't grow on the stone.
They stopped at it.
Not abruptly, but decisively. Roots twisted and thickened near the edge, then gave up entirely. Moss clung to cracks, but nothing taller than Damien's ankle managed to take hold.
"Didn't notice this last night," Tasha said, standing on one of the low rises and looking out.
Chris climbed up beside her, squinting. "This goes farther than I thought."
Damien joined them. From the slightly higher ground, the scale became clearer.
The stone clearing stretched much deeper inward than they'd realized—hundreds of meters at least—broken enough that you couldn't see the full span from any one spot. The forest ringed it unevenly, pulling back farther in some places than others.
They'd stopped early.
Damien felt the confirmation settle quietly, without satisfaction.
Behind them, voices rose as people took stock.
"We should mark this area."
"Someone check the packs."
"Who's on watch tonight?"
Mark's voice cut through the rest. Louder. Confident.
"We're good here," he said. "Nothing came all night. Same as yesterday."
No one contradicted him.
A few people nodded. Others murmured agreement as they went about their morning. Someone conjured a faint flicker of light between their fingers—unsteady, but deliberate—and grinned when it held.
Damien noticed how quickly that kind of thing changed posture.
People stood straighter now. Less guarded. More willing to talk over each other.
They weren't powerless anymore.
Chris dropped his voice. "You were right yesterday."
Damien didn't look at him. "About what?"
"We should've gone further," Chris said. "At least to see."
Damien shrugged. "Didn't matter then."
"It might later."
Damien glanced back at the group. Mark was in the middle of it now, gesturing as he talked.
"We don't need to push it," Mark was saying. "This place works. We don't know what's deeper in, and we don't need to find out yet."
Tasha crossed her arms. "We also don't know how far this goes."
Mark scoffed lightly. "And? The beasts stopped. Twice."
"That doesn't mean—"
"It means we're alive," Mark said. "That's enough data for me."
Damien stepped closer.
"Enough for now," he said. Not confrontational. Just precise.
Mark met his eyes.
For a moment, Damien saw it—the recalculation. Not fear. Not challenge.
Equality.
"Sure," Mark said. "For now."
A pause.
Then, casually: "But it's not like you're the only one who can handle things anymore."
A few people looked between them. Someone shifted, uncomfortable. Another watched with interest.
Damien nodded once. "Didn't say I was."
That seemed to deflate the moment more than an argument would have.
Chris cleared his throat. "We don't need to move camp. Not yet. But we could take a look."
Mark turned. "Look where?"
"In," Chris said. "Not far. Just enough to see if it's all stone or if there's anything else."
Tasha nodded. "Small group. No packs. In and back."
"Why?" Mark asked. "What are you expecting to find?"
"Nothing," Tasha said. "That's the point."
A few people laughed quietly.
Mark shook his head. "You want to go poking around when nothing's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong because nothing's tested," Chris said.
That earned a few looks.
Mark glanced at Damien. "You agree with this?"
Damien considered it. He thought about the ridges. The broken sightlines. The fact that from where they stood, they couldn't see the center of the stone clearing.
"I agree with knowing where we are," he said.
Not agreement.
Not refusal.
Mark exhaled sharply through his nose. "Fine. Two people. Not a whole expedition."
Chris raised a hand. "I'll go."
Tasha followed immediately. "Me too."
Mark hesitated, then nodded. "Stay in sight. Don't do anything stupid."
They moved out a few minutes later.
Damien watched them go, tracking their path as they navigated the shallow rises and dips. Within thirty meters, their legs disappeared behind a low ridge. Then their heads. Then they were gone entirely.
Sightlines closed fast out there.
"See?" Mark said. "Already can't see them."
"That's exactly why they're going," Damien replied.
Mark didn't answer.
The rest of the group settled back into motion—checking supplies, retying bindings, experimenting quietly with the strange new abilities they'd woken up with. Small sparks. Brief gusts. A ripple in water drawn from a skin.
No one hid it anymore.
After a while, voices drifted inward as people naturally gravitated toward the open stone. It was easier to talk there. Easier to see each other.
Easier to forget the edge.
Damien repositioned himself without announcing it, taking up a spot where he could see the forest and the path Chris and Tasha had taken.
Nothing moved.
Time passed.
Just long enough for comfort to settle.
Chris and Tasha returned shortly after, breathing a little harder but unhurt.
"More stone," Tasha said. "Ridges. Same as here."
"No sign of beasts?" Mark asked.
Chris shook his head. "Nothing."
That answer spread faster than the earlier agreement had.
"See?" Mark said again, satisfied.
Damien watched the way people clustered closer together afterward. Packs dragged inward. The outer edge thinned, not by order but by habit.
The stone held.
The forest stayed back.
And for the first time since Genesis, the group began to act like this place wasn't temporary.
Damien stayed where he was, eyes on the space no one was watching anymore.
Not because he expected something to happen immediately.
But because nothing happening was starting to feel like permission.