The oppressive humidity of the jungle enveloped Dexter and Quinn as they materialized amidst the thick underbrush, the air thick with stifling heat and dampness that pressed against their skin, making each breath feel heavy and labored. Above them, the canopy filtered the sunlight into streaks of golden-green, casting mottled shadows on the forest floor. They scanned the dense foliage, but Emily was nowhere to be seen.

  Dexter opened his mouth to shout her name, but before the words could leave his lips, a soft whisper brushed against his ear.

  “I’m right here. Invisible,” Emily said. “I sensed something as soon as I came through. Stay put. I’m going to check it out.”

  Dexter rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, “I was supposed to take point. She’s stealing my thunder.”

  Quinn’s brow furrowed, his instincts sharpening as he surveyed the dense surroundings. His enhanced eyesight cut through the heavy vegetation, his mind calculating. “It’s too quiet,” he murmured, his voice laced with unease. “The jungle should be alive with sound. Something’s not right. Dex, What do you hear?”

  Dexter shrugged, frowning as he listened intently. “Just… some wind?”

  “Exactly,” Quinn replied grimly, his voice low. “There should be birds, insects, something. What happens in every movie when the jungle goes silent?”

  Dexter’s eyes widened, the realization hitting him hard. “A predator.”

  “Exactly,” Quinn confirmed, his tone colder now. “Deploy your drones. Let’s find out what we’re dealing with.”

  Without hesitation, Dexter held out his hand, and twelve mosquito-sized drones materialized, each one faintly glowing with mana. They zipped off into the dense foliage, their tiny wings whirring as they dispersed. A grin spread across his face as he tapped into their feeds. “It’s like watching twelve screens in my brain,” he said, his voice bubbling with excitement. “Man, Technomancy rocks.”

  Quinn shot him a pointed look. “Cool, but focus.”

  The drones darted through the thick jungle, their sensors picking up every sound, every shift in the underbrush. Most of it was mundane, the rustling of leaves, the faint scurry of a small animal, but one drone caught something unusual. A child’s shaky breath. Dexter’s grin faded, replaced by a more serious expression as the drone locked onto the source. It darted around a boulder and zeroed in on a makeshift shelter beneath a fallen rock. A tuft of hair, a small hand peeking out from the shadows.

  “Q,” Dexter whispered, his voice tight with urgency. “I found a scared child hiding under some rocks. About fifty yards that way,” he said pointing.

  Quinn’s jaw tightened at the news, his eyes narrowing. “Anything else?”

  Dexter hesitated for a moment, his face growing more serious. “Yeah. Something big. A hundred yards north. Looks like a panther or jaguar, but... it’s glowing with some strange green runes all over it. Kinda awesome looking. And... whoa, are those tentacles on its back?”

  Quinn’s expression darkened. His voice was low. “We need to act fast. Can you distract it?”

  Dexter’s grin returned as he summoned a larger drone, its rotors spinning to life with a loud, determined buzz. “Oh, I can do better than just distract.” The drone shot straight into the air, slicing through the trees, its buzzing sound pulling the predator’s attention. The creature’s glowing eyes snapped toward the source, its low growl rumbling through the still air as it began to chase the noise. Dexter guided the drone away from the child, pulling the beast in the opposite direction.

  “Go! Now!” Dexter hissed, urgency in his voice, and they broke into a sprint toward the girl.

  The jungle blurred around them as they dashed through the thick underbrush, their feet barely disturbing the mossy ground beneath them. When they reached the boulders, Quinn crouched low, his sharp eyes spotting the trembling hand still hidden beneath the rock. He motioned for Dexter to hold back, just as Emily shimmered into view beside him, her invisibility cloak appearing as she removed the hood.

  “Let me handle this,” Emily whispered, lowering herself to her knees. She softened the moment she spoke again as she addressed the frightened child with a very tender tone. “Hey there, sweetie. It’s okay now. The animal is gone. You’re safe.”

  A pair of wide, terrified eyes peeked from the shadows, locking onto Emily. “Who… who are you?” the young girl asked, her voice shaking with fear.

  Emily’s expression softened even further, offering the girl a warm smile. “My name’s Emily. These are my friends, Quinn and Dexter. We’re here to help. What’s your name?”

  The girl hesitated, glancing around before whispering, “Isadora.”

  Emily’s smile widened. “That’s such a beautiful name, Isadora. Can we help you find your family?” Her voice remained steady, soothing, as she knelt closer.

  Tears welled up in the girl’s eyes as she nodded, her lips trembling. “I… I got lost. The animal chased me. My papa told me to hide if I ever got scared, so I did.”

  “You did the right thing, Isadora. Your papa will be so proud of how brave you’ve been. Let’s get you back to him, okay?”

  Isadora reached out, her tiny hand gripping Emily’s with desperate strength as she crawled out from her hiding spot. Emily stood, keeping herself between the girl and the direction where the glowing predator had come from, her stance protective.

  Dexter tapped his chin thoughtfully, conjuring a sleek, smartphone-like device from the air. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and when he opened them again, a satisfied grin spread across his face. “Got it. The village is about half a mile that way.” He pointed confidently behind Emily.

  Quinn raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “And you figured that out how?”

  Dexter’s grin turned smug, the pride in his voice unmistakable. “Connected to a satellite. It’s all about the signal, my man.”

  Quinn clapped him on the shoulder with an approving nod. “Genius. Let’s move before our glowing friend decides to double back.”

  With Isadora clinging tightly to Emily’s hand, the group moved swiftly through the dense jungle, their feet barely making a sound as they pushed forward. Dexter, his bracers glowing faintly, was in his element, managing the drones in real-time. His mind was attuned to their feeds as he kept tabs on the glowing predator. “It’s staying back for now,” he murmured, eyes darting from the drone’s updates to the thick foliage around them. “But it’s circling. We’ve got to keep moving.”

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  The village lay ahead, just out of sight, but Dexter’s satellite link had already mapped it out, a beacon of hope amidst the jungle’s oppressive expanse.

  Dexter nodded sharply. “The village isn’t far. Just beyond those trees.”

  As they neared the edge of the jungle, the dense undergrowth began to thin, and the first rays of sunlight broke through the canopy, bathing the path ahead in soft golden light. The village came into view, nestled in a clearing, a modest but tight-knit community surrounded by nature’s embrace.

  Isadora’s eyes lit up with recognition, her face brightening as she looked at the village. “That’s my village!” she cried.

  Emily smiled down at her, her grip tightening in reassurance. “Almost there, Isadora. You’re safe now. Let’s get you home.”

  Thatched-roof huts were arranged in a loose circle, each one built with care but showing signs of wear. Around them, small plots of crops and fragile wooden fences marked the boundaries of their existence. The people moved about cautiously, their faces drawn, pale with worry. Shoulders hunched as if bracing for some unseen threat, their eyes flickering toward the treeline every few moments. The entire village seemed caught in an invisible grip, held in a state of perpetual tension, as though they were standing at the edge of a cliff, waiting for the ground to give way beneath them. The faces of the villagers bore the unmistakable signs of sleepless nights, their expressions etched with anxiety, a quiet terror hanging over them.

  As the trio approached the edge of the village, the hum of activity abruptly slowed. A village scout’s voice rang out, carrying a note of alarm. “Strangers approaching!”

  The buzz of conversation faded, and tools—once used for farming and building—were quickly repurposed into makeshift weapons. Eyes narrowed in cautious assessment as the villagers took in the strangers emerging from the jungle. A small group of men rushed forward, weapons raised, their protective stance obvious. At the front of the group stood an older man, his face weathered by time and hard labor under the sun. His eyes locked onto Isadora with a fierce intensity that spoke of deep worry.

  “Isadora!” he shouted, his voice thick with emotion as he rushed toward her. The little girl broke away from Emily’s hand, sprinting into his embrace. “Papa!” she cried, burying her face in his chest. The man held her tightly, his arms trembling as though he feared she might vanish if he let go. “My granddaughter, you’re safe!” he whispered, his voice choked with relief.

  The villagers murmured among themselves, their eyes shifting between the man and his granddaughter, then back to the strangers. Gratitude was clear in their expressions, but it was tempered with a quiet wariness, their uncertainty about the newcomers evident.

  Still holding Isadora close, the older man turned to face the group. His voice was firm, but underlined with gratitude as he asked, “Thank you for bringing her back to us, but who are you and what do you want?”

  Emily stepped forward, her tone calm and comforting, aiming to ease their suspicions. “We’re here to help,” she said gently. “We heard about the creature terrorizing the area and came to stop it. Isadora was lost, but she was brave—just like you taught her. We found her while searching for the creature.”

  The older man’s expression softened, and his hold on Isadora tightened, a wave of relief passing through him. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for helping her.”

  Quinn nodded, his expression serious as he moved closer. “We’re glad she’s safe, but the danger isn’t over,” he said, his voice low with gravity. “The creature is still out there.”

  The villagers exchanged wary looks, unease settling over the group. A woman, her face pale with fear, stepped forward, her voice barely a whisper. “It’s not like anything we’ve seen before,” she said, her hands clasped tightly. “It glows in the night. We’ve heard its growls, seen its eyes. It’s... unnatural.”

  The older man’s brow furrowed, his expression hardening. “Some say it’s a spirit. A punishment for something we’ve done,” he muttered, the weight of his words reflecting a deep-rooted fear.

  Emily shook her head, stepping forward. “It’s not a spirit. It’s something real, and we can stop it. But we need your help to keep everyone safe.”

  Dexter tapped his bracers, and a holographic interface flickered to life before him. His voice was calm, laced with the certainty of someone who trusted his tech. “It’s still circling back but keeping a wide distance. We have some time.”

  Emily crouched down to Isadora’s level, her voice soft yet encouraging. She placed a hand gently on the girl’s shoulder, offering a smile. “You’ve been so brave, Isadora. Right now, we need your help. Can you stay inside with the other children and keep everyone calm.”

  Isadora met her gaze with a seriousness that belied her age. “I can do that.”

  Without hesitation, the villagers sprang into action, ushering their families into the largest home. The children gathered together under Isadora’s direction, their small faces tense but trusting. Quiet prayers filled the air as talismans were clutched tightly, whispers directed to the spirits they believed would keep them safe. Their footsteps quickened, the door creaking shut behind them, a fragile barrier between them and whatever lurked outside.

  As the last villagers slipped inside, Isadora’s father stood at the threshold, his face marked with concern but tempered by an unspoken determination. He looked at the trio, his eyes heavy with silent gratitude and an unspoken plea. “May the spirits protect you,” he said. Slowly, he shut the door, the sound of their version of a lock clicking.

  Quinn turned to his team, his voice low and filled with urgency. "We can't engage here. If it gets too close to the village, we'll be focused on protecting civilians instead of winning the fight. We need to draw it away, take it out before it circles back on them."

  Emily’s face hardened with resolve, her eyes narrowing. "Agreed. We can lead it toward the grove near where we arrived. The terrain will work to our advantage and we can control the battlefield."

  Dexter’s usual playful demeanor was gone, replaced with a sharp focus as he adjusted his bracers. "Alright, I’ll set the drones to guide it there. I'll make sure it’s distracted."

  Quinn’s gaze sharpened as he scanned the dense jungle ahead, his body poised and ready for action. “Let’s move,” he ordered. His voice was steady, but the tension was clear in the set of his shoulders. Without waiting for a response, he sprinted forward, disappearing into the trees.

  Dexter and Emily fell in behind him, moving with practiced silence. Their footsteps were soundless as they blended into the jungle, vanishing into the shadows.