Dexter’s fingers danced over the interface of his bracers, his movements quick and practiced. The nanobots swarmed into formation, assembling a sleek, compact container designed to hold the liquid mana. The glowing device siphoned the shimmering substance from the pool, its faint hum vibrating through the air. Once the container was filled, Dexter sealed it with a satisfying click, tucking it securely into his astral storage—his personal reserve, now designated for Rosco. Around them, small green lights shimmered as Sim continued collecting the remaining mana, her movements efficient and precise.

  Quinn inhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders to release the tension from the earlier fight. The hum of residual energy still thrummed beneath his skin, a reminder of the battle’s intensity. “That should do it. Dexter, any sign of lingering mana leaks?”

  Dexter activated his drones, their tiny forms buzzing to life as they scouted the surrounding area. Streams of data flowed across his interface in a steady rhythm as he scanned the readings. After a moment, he gave a quick nod. “All clear. Whatever was here is gone. We’ve cleaned it up.”

  “Hey, Sim,” Dexter started, leaning back with his hands behind his head. “What happens if this leak decides to, y’know… start leaking again?”

  “A fair concern,” Sim acknowledged. “Do you have a solution in mind, or were you just planning to point out problems and let me do all the work?”

  Dexter grinned. “I mean, that’s how most great leaders operate.”

  Emily rolled her eyes. “Sim, what if you created a structure that automatically siphons any future leaks? Something that could instantly pull the mana into your astral plane and store it before it spreads.”

  Quinn raised an eyebrow. “So… an oil rig, but for mana?”

  “Basically,” Emily confirmed. “If we know where leaks might reappear, why not take advantage of them? Sim needs to collect as much mana as possible anyway.”

  Sim processed the idea. “That’s actually a solid strategy. Given the time constraints, passive collection could accelerate the process.”

  “Oooh, oooh, I’ve got it!” Dexter suddenly sat forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Make it a tall, black monolith. No—an obelisk! A huge, towering obelisk with a square base and a pointy top.”

  “Dexter, have you been watching 2001: A Space Odyssey again?” Sim asked.

  “I mean… yes. But also, think about it! Anytime people find giant obelisks, they assume they’re ancient alien artifacts, meant to advance intelligent life. We slap some cryptic hieroglyphs on there, make it look all mysterious—boom, instant legend. Plus, it looks cool.”

  Quinn pinched the bridge of his nose. “So our grand plan is to start leaving ominous alien architecture all over the planet?”

  “Sounds fun to me,” Emily said with a smirk.

  “I like it,” Sim decided. The air shimmered, and a moment later, two towering black obelisks materialized over the mana leak sites, their surfaces flawless and imposing. Faint, glowing runes began etching themselves into the stone, pulsing with a soft blue light.

  Dexter clapped his hands together. “Oh yeah. That’s the stuff. Next thing you know, some archaeologist is gonna stumble on these and start losing their mind.”

  Emily sighed. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t spark a worldwide conspiracy.”

  Dexter nodded his head, “We already have a ton of them, what's another one?”

  With their task complete, the trio turned back toward the village. As they emerged from the jungle’s shadows, they were greeted by the cautious yet hopeful faces of the villagers. They had gathered outside their modest huts, when they heard the roars of the monsters stop. Their expressions were a mixture of wariness and tentative optimism. As Quinn, Emily, and Dexter appeared from the trees, the tension in the villagers’ faces slowly began to melt away, replaced by a glimmer of hope. The trio had returned, and with them, the promise of safety.

  Isadora’s grandfather stepped forward, his eyes scanning the trio’s expressions, searching for any sign of finality. “Is it... over?” he asked hesitantly, his voice cracking slightly with the weight of his concern.

  Quinn stepped forward, his tone calm yet authoritative, cutting through the lingering unease in the air. “Yes,” he said firmly. “The animals were affected by something unnatural, but it’s been dealt with. Your village is safe now. You shouldn’t have any more problems.”

  A collective sigh of relief rippled through the gathered villagers, the tension lifting like a cloud breaking after a storm. Whispered prayers and murmured gratitude spread quickly among the crowd, the sound rising and falling like waves. Isadora’s grandfather bowed deeply, his face a mask of emotion. “We feared for our children, our lives. You have our eternal thanks. May the spirits bless your journey.”

  Emily knelt as Isadora approached, her small face lighting up when she saw her. Emily’s smile softened, exuding warmth and reassurance. “You were very brave, Isadora. Your quick thinking kept you safe. Someday, you’ll inspire your people with that bravery.”

  Isadora smiled shyly, her eyes flicking back to her grandfather, who gave her a nod of approval. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice small but brimming with quiet pride.

  Isadora’s attention shifted as something caught her eye— a flash of gold and a swish of a fluffy tail perched on Dexter’s shoulder. Rosco, who had remained unnoticed until now, was happily munching on another banana, his tiny paws working diligently to stuff his face. Isadora’s eyes widened in wonder, the apprehension that had lingered around her dissipating completely, replaced by pure fascination. She took a cautious step forward, drawn in by the sight of the creature, her curiosity piqued.

  “What is that?” Isadora asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her wide eyes locked onto Rosco.

  Dexter’s grin stretched even wider as he tilted his shoulder to give Rosco the spotlight. “This little guy? His name’s Rosco. He’s a Kinkajou, but with a bit of an upgrade.”

  Rosco paused mid-bite, his emerald eyes glowing faintly with mana. He tilted his head toward Isadora, studying her for a moment. With a sudden, graceful leap, he landed at her feet, his tail swishing playfully as he stood on his hind legs. He offered her a piece of his banana, as if presenting a gift.

  “He’s... glowing!” Isadora gasped, her voice filled with wonder.

  Rosco’s telepathic voice echoed softly in their minds, his tone warm and inviting. “Rosco like bananas. You look nice. Rosco like you.”

  Isadora’s eyes went impossibly wide as the words registered in her mind. “Did he... just talk?”

  Emily chuckled, kneeling beside her. “He’s a special Kinkajou. He drank a little bit of the glowing water we found in the jungle, and now he’s, well, really smart.”

  Isadora giggled, her fear melting away as she reached out a small hand to gently pat Rosco’s head. His soft fur and friendly demeanor made her smile even brighter. “You’re a funny little creature.”

  Rosco purred contentedly, curling his tail around her wrist with affection. “Rosco not funny. Rosco normal. You brave. Good girl.”

  Isadora beamed at the praise, her chest swelling with pride, even though it came from a tiny, talking Kinkajou. She had never felt so instantly connected to something so strange and magical.

  Dexter watched the interaction with a satisfied grin, pleased by the bond already forming. “Looks like you’ve made a new friend, Isadora. You know, there are probably more of these little guys in the jungle. They might not talk like Rosco, but I bet they’d make fun friends if you try.”

  Rosco nodded enthusiastically, his tail flicking toward the jungle with a sense of adventure. “Yes, many Rosco friends. You give banana, make new friends. Find over there.”

  Isadora’s eyes lit up with excitement, completely captivated by the little creature at her feet. “I’ll definitely go make friends with them.”

  Rosco puffed up with pride, his grin wide and almost as bright as hers. “Good. Rosco approve.”

  Dexter reached into his astral storage, summoning a small, sleek device that materialized in his hand. It gleamed silver, its surface smooth and sleek, with a faint blue glow pulsing from a single button at the top. He crouched down to Isadora’s level and held it out to her. She hesitated for a moment, her small hands trembling slightly as she took the device from him. She clutched it to her chest, her wide eyes locked on Dexter’s with a mixture of awe and trust.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “Keep this safe,” Dexter said gently, his voice carrying the weight of the responsibility. “If anything happens—anything dangerous—just press this button. We’ll come as fast as we can. But only for emergencies, okay? Even if we’re far away, we’ll be here as soon as we can.”

  Isadora nodded solemnly, her small hands gripping the device tightly as if it were a lifeline. “Thank you,” she whispered, her gratitude shining through her quiet voice, the sincerity of her words adding weight to the moment.

  Nearby, Emily exchanged a glance with Quinn, her eyebrow arching as she gave him a subtle look, her eyes flicking toward Isadora’s grandfather. Quinn blinked at her, clearly confused. Emily rolled her eyes and stepped closer, lowering her voice to a whisper near his ear. “Do you want to offer your skills to the village?” she asked, her tone teasing but gentle.

  Quinn, still not understanding, simply looked back at her. She gritted her teeth and spoke just a little louder. “Your biomancy, you numbskull. Do you want to see if they have anyone who’s sick so you can heal them?” Emily explained, her patience thinning.

  Realization dawned on Quinn’s face, and he gave a sheepish nod. “Right. Of course. I forgot.”

  Dexter raised an eyebrow, his tone casual but curious. “Aren’t we trying to keep mana a secret?”

  Emily shrugged, unconcerned. “We’re in the middle of the Amazon jungle, Dex, with a tribe that has no contact with the outside world. These people aren’t about to tweet about it. If we can help, we should.”

  Quinn cleared his throat, his self-consciousness still lingering, but his resolve growing stronger. He stepped forward, addressing Isadora’s grandfather with a newfound purpose. “There’s something else we can do. I have a... gift, one that lets me heal. If anyone in your village is sick or injured, I’d like to try and help them.”

  The man’s eyes widened, his expression a mix of surprise and hope. “You... you can heal?” His voice trembled with emotion. “Yes, please. Some of our elders are very sick. Come, follow me.”

  As he motioned for the villagers to gather those in need, Sim’s voice cut through the tension, speaking directly to Quinn. "Quinn, with your enhanced stats and growing mastery over biomancy, you’re capable of more than just healing individuals. I believe you can scan the entire village and heal everyone simultaneously. Focus on them as a whole—trust your instincts."

  Quinn paused, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. But after a moment, he nodded slowly, the weight of Sim’s words settling on him. He turned back to face the villagers, watching as they began to gather. Most were elderly, some visibly weakened by illness or injury—twisted limbs, hollow coughs, and sunken eyes reflected years of hardship and survival.

  Taking a deep breath, Quinn stepped into the center of the crowd. His chest tightened, the weight of dozens of uncertain eyes on him. The air felt thick, heavy with expectation. Quinn raised his hands in a calming gesture, his voice steady but tinged with compassion. “Please, everyone, come closer,” he called out, the warmth in his tone inviting them to trust him. “What I’m about to do might seem strange, even frightening, but I promise, it’s meant to help, not harm. I ask for your trust, just for a moment.”

  The villagers exchanged wary glances, but curiosity soon outweighed their hesitation. One by one, they edged closer, drawn in by his quiet confidence.

  “There have been changes in the world,” Quinn continued, his eyes sweeping the crowd, his gaze soft but resolute. “Things that might seem impossible to understand, but I promise you, they’re real.” His voice grew firmer. “I don’t claim to be a god, and I’m not here to make you believe otherwise. I’m just a man who’s been given a gift—the ability to heal. It’s not something I take lightly, and it doesn’t make me better than you. It simply gives me the chance to help in ways that may seem... extraordinary.”

  He scanned the faces around him, making eye contact with as many villagers as he could. “I know this is a lot to take in. You may not understand everything right now, but I ask that you trust in this moment. Trust in me, and in the healing you’re about to receive.”

  Quinn’s voice softened, his gaze steady. “You might feel warmth or a strange sensation, but it’s all part of the process. When it’s over, I hope you’ll feel better—stronger. Trust me for this moment.”

  A reassuring smile spread across his face as he gave a small nod. "Don’t worry. You’re safe here. Now, let’s begin."

  A ripple of quiet murmurs spread through the villagers as they nodded hesitantly, the collective hope in their eyes outweighing the doubt that had once clouded their expressions.

  Quinn exhaled deeply, closing his eyes to center himself. His focus narrowed as he reached into the core of his mana, feeling the raw energy surge through him like a river of light, steady and boundless. He summoned his Mana Blade, its ethereal glow cutting through the air, illuminating the space around him. The sword pulsed with energy, its glow intensifying as Quinn channeled his power into it, focusing on the village as a whole.

  The hum of mana vibrated through the air, growing stronger with each passing moment. Slowly, Quinn raised his free hand, palm outward, directing the energy toward the gathered villagers. The glow of his blade brightened, casting a warm, golden light that spread outward in waves, enveloping the crowd in a soft, protective shield.

  Quinn’s mind sharpened, scanning the villagers as one collective entity. It was like reading a hundred stories at once. He could feel the weight of their lives, the strain on their bodies, the lingering sicknesses, the old injuries. His biomancy honed in on each ailment, from broken bones that had mended improperly to the shortness of breath caused by years of untreated illness.

  His hand began to glow brighter, the tendrils of light pulsing with energy. He didn’t need to touch anyone; the mana flowed through the village itself, enveloping them all, saturating their beings with healing power.

  The villagers gasped as the light reached them, a soothing warmth spreading across their bodies. Elderly men and women, once hunched over or relying on walking sticks, stood taller. The deep lines of pain on their faces smoothed, and the cloudiness in their eyes cleared, revealing a sharpness they had lost long ago. One by one, they looked at their hands, at their bodies, as the healing light worked through them, easing aches, restoring strength, and revitalizing their spirits. The burdens of years seemed to melt away in the presence of the light.

  Quinn could feel the immense power flowing through him, but he remained calm, steady. His focus never wavered as he guided the mana with careful precision. He was realigning their entire beings, ensuring that when they walked away from this moment, they would be healthier than they had ever been.

  When the final pulse of mana faded, Quinn opened his eyes, his gaze tracking the last of the transformations as they unfolded. The villagers stood frozen for a moment, staring at one another in stunned silence. Slowly, the weight of what had just happened sank in. They looked at their bodies, at the way their pain had vanished, and the transformation was evident in their faces—renewed strength and vitality. Quiet tears began to fall, and the air was filled with hushed, heartfelt gratitude as they embraced each other, their whispered thanks swirling around them like a soft breeze.

  Quinn lowered his hand, exhaustion tugging at the edges of his consciousness. Every muscle in his body felt heavy, but there was a deep sense of fulfillment in his chest, a quiet pride in what he had accomplished. Emily stepped closer, her gaze soft and proud. “You did it, Quinn.”

  Dexter let out a low whistle, a grin spreading across his face. “Man, you really don’t do anything halfway, do you?”

  Quinn smiled faintly, his voice still carrying the weight of the moment. “They needed hope. I just gave them a little push.”

  Isadora’s grandfather approached them, his voice thick with emotion, every word heavy with gratitude. “Thank you. You’ve given us more than we could ever repay. You’ve saved us.”

  Quinn allowed himself a small smile, the weight of the gratitude hanging in the air, still coming to terms with the sheer magnitude of what he had just done. “I’m just glad I could make a difference.”

  Dexter, practically glowing with excitement, gave Quinn a playful shove. “Dude, you didn’t just make a difference, you healed an entire village! That was... I don’t even have words for how awesome that was. That was... next level.”

  Emily’s lips curved into a teasing smile as she glanced at Quinn, her voice light but filled with genuine admiration. “Not bad for a numbskull.”

  Quinn chuckled, his heart still racing from the rush of mana and the emotional weight of the moment. “Thanks... I think.”

  Dexter turned his gaze to the villagers, who were still caught up in the joy of their miraculous recovery. He leaned closer to Quinn and Emily, his voice low but laced with mischief. “You know, this is the perfect time for a dramatic hero exit. Maybe a big speech or something?”

  Quinn rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he glanced at Dexter. “We’re not in a movie, Dexter.”

  Dexter shrugged with exaggerated nonchalance, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Could’ve fooled me. This whole jungle mission screams blockbuster.”

  Isadora’s grandfather came up to them one last time. “You are welcome in our village any time. If you need anything from us, and I mean anything, do not hesitate to ask. We will be forever in your debt.”

  “You owe us nothing. But we thank you for the invitation.” Quinn said, shaking his hand.

  After a few more warm goodbyes and heartfelt thanks from the villagers, the trio began to prepare for their departure. Quinn stepped forward but paused, his gaze lingering on Emily. He shifted slightly, gathering his thoughts and his courage, and finally caught her attention. His voice was softer, quieter than usual, as if the weight of the moment was somehow heavier now that it was just the two of them.

  “Hey, Emily,” he began, his nerves barely concealed. “When we get back to base... how about we grab a drink? You know, just us. A proper celebration.”

  Emily blinked, caught off guard for a split second. A flicker of surprise passed over her face before her lips curled into a smile, genuine and warm. “Are you... asking me out, Mr. Anderson?” she teased, her playful sparkle unmistakable.

  Quinn chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, his confidence wavering just a bit. “Yeah, I guess I am. So? What do you say?”

  Her smile widened as she slid her bow into her astral storage, her movements fluid and effortless. She tilted her head, pretending to think for a moment before leaning closer to him, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “I can’t believe it’s taken you this long to ask,” she said, her tone playful. “Honestly, I was wondering how long I’d have to flirt with you before you would. I’d love to. But only on one condition—you promise not to be boring.”

  Quinn’s grin returned, the confidence flowing back as he met her gaze. “I’ll do my best. No promises, though. Just look at the company I keep,” he said motioning to Dexter.

  Emily laughed lightly, her arm slipping through his as they turned back toward the jungle. Her playful smirk stayed in place, the air between them charged with something more than camaraderie.

  Behind them, Dexter dramatically placed a hand over his chest, sighing as if he were in the final act of a play. “Ah, young love,” he muttered with mock solemnity, shaking his head. Then, with a quick clap of his hands, he broke into a wide grin. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s head out before Rosco gets too jealous.”

  “Me no jealous. Me got banana,” Rosco chimed in, holding up his banana like a trophy, his voice full of pride.

  The group burst into laughter, the sound carrying through the jungle as they disappeared back into the dense greenery.