Metal Prosthetic Leg {(Common)}

As the morning stretched on, the distant sounds of the hunting party moving through the underbrush faded into the background. The wasteland remained eerily still, save for the occasional rustle of wind through brittle grass.

Jacob sighed and flopped onto his back, gazing up at the dull, overcast sky. "You ever think about what we'll do once we finally get out of this mess?"

Connor didn't respond right away. Instinctively, he shifted, trying to adjust his missing leg—only to remember that it was not there. The realization sat heavy in his mind. After a long pause, he finally muttered, "Survive first. Then we'll figure out the rest."

Jacob groaned. "That's such a Connor answer. No imagination, no dreams—just 'survive first.'" He waved a vague hand in the air. "Me? I'm thinking beachfront property, cold drinks, and absolutely no murderous wasteland monsters."

Finn scoffed. "Bold of you to assume we're getting out of this alive."

Jacob shot him a glare. "Bold of you to underestimate me."

Finn shrugged, flicking his knife between his fingers. "Just saying, optimism doesn't keep you alive out here."

"No, but it keeps me sane." Jacob turned his head, watching Connor as he ran a hand through his short-cropped hair. "Hey. Be honest. You ever think about what's next?"

Connor hesitated. "Sometimes."

"And?"

"And I don't have an answer for you."

Jacob rolled his eyes but let it drop. Connor had always been the pragmatic one, focused on the next step forward, while Jacob clung to whatever sliver of humor or hope he could find. It was how they balanced each other.

A sudden crack echoed through the air—a branch snapping in the distance.

Finn sat up straighter, his fingers tightening around his knife. "That wasn't our group."

Jacob immediately pushed himself upright, his senses sharpening. "Are you sure?"

Connor's eyes narrowed. He reached for a piece of scrap metal—not just any metal, but the kind he'd been scolded for using. With a thought, he molded it into a spear, instinctively preparing to defend himself. He heard a familiar voice in his head, but right now, his focus was elsewhere.

"Too soon for them to be back," Connor muttered.

Finn silently pointed toward the trees lining the edge of their makeshift camp. Shadows flickered between the branches—multiple figures moving with careful, deliberate steps.

Jacob swallowed, his earlier joking mood evaporating. "So… what's the plan?"

Connor's grip tightened around the spear, his jaw setting. "Survive first. Then we'll think about the rest."

Jacob let out a breath and smirked, hoping to contain his nervousness.

Then, the first figure stepped into view.

Relief washed over Finn's face. "How did they come back so fast?" he muttered.

His eyes flickered to the name tags above the returning hunters and the sudden increase in their levels. His stomach twisted. The hunt must have gone well… really well.

He glanced at Connor and Jacob, then exhaled. "Friendly fire," he said.

Connor and Jacob exchanged a look before subtly leaning against the tree, lowering themselves into the shade.

Jacob resumed drawing patterns in the dirt with his fingers. "Ohhh," he muttered.

The returning group approached, Finn stepping forward to greet them. He eyed the hunters warily. "Wow, you all must've caught a big one today, huh?"

One of them chuckled. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Finn's gaze flickered to Lyle. "And I presume you didn't find what you were looking for?"

Lyle sighed. "No luck this time."

"Wow," Aria interjected. "You don't have to sound so disappointed, you know."

Lyle shot her a look before turning his attention to an adventurer with white bandages wrapped around his knuckles—Ramsey. The man slumped over, shielding his eyes from the sunlight filtering through the canopy. His balance wavered before he steadied himself and glanced toward the conjoined twins.

Connor quickly tried reshaping his spear back into its original form, thinking about everyone's reaction from yesterday; he didn't want to get another scolding, but Lyle held up a hand. "No need," he said. His eyes lingered on Connor for a moment, as if weighing something in the silence between them. Then, he added, "We need all the help we can get."

"You can have it; think of it as a gift."

He took a step forward. "Well, I never officially asked before—" He hesitated, glancing at Jacob. "I mean, do you both want to join our little, crazy crew?" A smirk spread across his face. "Not that you really have much of a choice." His eyes flicked to their missing leg.

Markus's expression soured. Meanwhile, Jacob's face lit up with barely contained excitement. "Yes! We'll join your pirate crew. Ahoy, Jubilarch, reporting for duty!"

Connor sighed. "Not like we have much of a choice, do we?"

Lyle grinned. "That settles it." He clapped a hand on Connor's shoulder. A pulse of energy surged through Connor's body.

You have received:

Longsword {(Common)}

Steel-Tipped Spear {(Common)}

Connor frowned, glancing at Lyle. A deep crease formed between his brows. "Why?"

Lyle's smirk didn't waver. "Think of it as an investment. Hopefully, I'll get a return on it."

Connor gave him a skeptical look. "Uh… okay. Thanks?"

Markus studied the twins for a moment before turning away, running a whetstone along the edge of his sword.

Connor, as if waiting for permission, placed his hands over the spear that had once been Nate's sword. He tried channeling his energy into it—but nothing happened.

He took a deep breath. Focus. In his mind, he visualized what he wanted the spear to shift into. He placed his hand on the weapon again, and this time, faint energy crackled in the air. Slowly, the metal began to shift, melting into a liquefied state before reshaping itself.

Ding!

You have created:

Metal Prosthetic Leg {(Common)}

Jacob let out a whoop. "Ohhhh, Connor, you did it!"

Around them, several adventurers murmured in awe. All except Markus, whose expression darkened with something unreadable.

Meanwhile, Lyle stood still, his gaze fixed on nothing. His eyes, wide yet unfocused, traced patterns in the empty air as if searching for something unseen. His fingers twitched slightly, caught between reaching and hesitating.

Slowly but surely a smile crept on his face.