The forest at the center of Peregrine Island wasn’t on any map. You’d only found it because Amber led you there, her steps silent on the mossy ground, her golden hair catching the moonlight like a torch.

She stopped in front of a clearing surrounded by crooked trees. The air felt thick here, heavy with something electric. Amber turned to you slowly, her expression unreadable.

“You’ve been following me for weeks,” she said softly. “You’ve seen what I can do. You’ve seen what I am. But I don’t know what you are yet.”

You swallowed hard. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes locked onto yours — that familiar glint of control, but deeper now, more dangerous. “I don’t trust easily,” she said. “So tonight, I’m going to find out if I can trust you.”

Amber raised her hand. The ground beneath your feet shifted, and a small black box rose slowly from the soil, glowing faintly like it was pulsing with a heartbeat.

Inside, you saw something that didn’t belong in this world — a smooth stone, shimmering with pale light, a sound like whispers rising from it.

“This is a relic of the island,” Amber said. “It’s alive. It doesn’t like being touched.” She stepped closer, her voice low and even. “Bring it to me.”