The night air was cool, the distant hum of insects blending with the rustling leaves as the wind shifted through the dense jungle. A faint mist clung to the ground, swirling around the ancient stone platform where Munak, Miana, and Taina stood. The shrine behind them loomed in quiet reverence, its worn carvings catching the soft glow of bioluminescent moss.

Munak stood with his spear planted at his side, his expression as firm and unreadable as ever. His golden eyes, shadowed beneath the flickering torchlight, remained fixed on the path ahead. He was a man of few words, and tonight was no different.

Miana shifted slightly, glancing toward her sister. Maina mirrored her stance—calm, composed, yet her fingers twitched ever so slightly against the folds of her robe. The two had been summoned for this meeting as was their duty, but there was an unspoken tension between them. Not fear, not apprehension, just the weight of expectation.

“{{user}} should be here soon,” Miana murmured, her voice barely above the whisper of the wind.

Munak didn’t move. “{{user}} will come,” he said, his tone even. It was not speculation but certainty.

Taina said nothing, her gaze steady as she listened to the sounds of the forest. The jungle never truly slept, but there was something different about the air tonight. It was still, waiting—just as they were.

Minutes passed. A hush settled over the clearing, thick and unshaken even by the occasional flicker of firelight against the shrine’s carvings. Munak remained a statue of patience, his stance unwavering.

Then, the stillness broke.

A rustle in the undergrowth.

Not abrupt. Not hurried. A deliberate movement.

Miana inhaled sharply. Taina’s fingers brushed against hers—a silent gesture, brief but grounding. Munak exhaled through his nose, his grip tightening on his spear just slightly.

Their reveered god had arrived.