Dawn of the Tamer

With the exception of the subtle crackling of the fading fire and the sporadic rustle of leaves in the night air, the camp had fallen into a peaceful calm. With his back against a tree, Finn scanned the changing shadows beyond their little clearing with half-lidded but alert eyes. Even in stillness, he remained on edge.

A few feet away, Lyle lay on his back, arms folded behind his head as he stared at the stars. "A million people and only one winner," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Hell of a way to test someone's resolve."

"You're assuming it's a test," Aria murmured, pulling her coat tighter around her shoulders. "For all we know, this could just be a sort of population control for whoever put us here."

Finn glanced at her. "You think something's watching us?"

She shrugged. "Wouldn't surprise me. We're probably just pieces on a board to whatever's out there. But the system… it's everywhere. It doesn't just feel like we're being watched—it feels like we're being played. Maybe there's no puppet master. Maybe the system itself is running the show."

Nobody had an answer. The thought lingered like a dense mist. They fell into restless slumber, one by one. It wasn't comfortable, but it had to be sufficient.

As the first golden rays of sunlight peeked through the trees, Jacob was the first to stir, his eagerness fueled by the thought of the adventure that awaited them. Naturally, Connor, who was irrevocably bound to Jacob, came along soon after.

Connor breathed a sleepy sigh. "Slow down, Jacob. Nobody else has woken up yet.

Jacob looked around. They were all still unconscious. Only Connor and him. He was disheartened by the thought: if there was no one to share the thrill with, what good was it to get up early?

Then, a thought struck him, and a mischievous grin spread across his face.

Without hesitation, he snatched a rod from the ground and banged it against Connor's prosthetic leg like a makeshift drum, making as much noise as humanly possible while saying out loud.

"We're under attack! We're under attack!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs.

Connor shot up, reaching for his brother. "Jacob, stop!" he hissed, but it was already too late.

The camp exploded into chaos.

Finn carries a dagger, Markus is defensive, Lyle is composed, and Aria blinks half-asleep. Ramsey stands, seemingly unaware of the year, while Finn has a dagger in hand. Markus scans for danger, while Lyle is ready to act.

Then, silence.

Every single pair of eyes landed on Jacob, who was grinning like an idiot. Connor sat beside him, looking like he had lost all faith in Jacob's ability to act like an adult.

Markus shot Jacob with a sharp glare, while Finn smirked in entertainment. After a few grumbles and threats, Markus and the group gathered gear well there wasn't any gear to gather seeing as everything the own the had to summon via the system and set off into the wilderness, with Finn leading the way.

landscape was both breathtaking and ominous, with lush greenery, strange flora, and creatures in synchronized harmony. Each part of the ecosystem played a crucial role in an intricate, dangerous balance, making it massive and deadly.

The group moved cautiously through the dense forest, the air alive with the chatter of unseen birds and the distant cries of simian creatures. Each step was deliberate, the ground damp beneath their boots.

Following Jacob's example, Connor looked about them with a peculiar mix of familiarity and discomfort. It had happened here, where he had lost his leg in battle with that hideous beast, where he had lost his leg.

A dull weight settled in his chest as he glanced down at the prosthetic space where his limb had once been. The memory pressed on him like a cold and suffocation that gnawed at his chest. But there was no time to dwell on the past. They had to keep moving.

Jacob, on the other hand, seemed completely unaware of the gravity in Connor's steps. His attention was elsewhere on something ahead, fluttering just beyond his reach. A creature, unlike anything he had ever seen, was breathtaking.

It had a butterfly-like appearance, yet its glistening pink wings flowed and changed like liquid silk with an elegance that was almost mesmerizing to one's eyes. This butterfly's veins pulsed with weak bioluminescence, little rivers of light flowing through its body, in contrast to the paper-thin wings of regular butterflies. Occasionally, its hues shifted and flashed as though reacting to an unseen source.

When it took flight, it let out a soft, musical hum—a sound that made the world feel slower, like something out of a dream.

Jacob's instincts took over. His identification skill activated before he even realized it.

Faequill – Level 2

Without thinking, he reached out his finger.

"Jacob, stop that. What the hell are you doing?" Connor hissed, his voice tense. "You don't even know if that thing is dangerous!"

Jacob barely heard him. His mind was already racing, and his heart was pounding in his chest. The faequill drifted closer, unafraid. Then, a notification appeared in his mind:

Beast Taming requirements met. Do you wish to tame this beast?

Yes or No?

This was it—his first real step as a beast tamer.

Yes!

The moment he accepted, the faequill shimmered, then reappeared beside him, its wings casting a soft, ethereal glow. It was his now.

The group stood in stunned silence.

Connor blinked. "How did you—"

Jacob turned to him with a smug grin. "Remember? I'm a fucking beast tamer."

He said likely a callback to the very beginning when Jacob picked his class, and Connor referred to it as just a fucking beast-taming class.

Connor opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. "But—but—"

Jacob clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I'm awesome."

The faequill flapped its wings as if in agreement.

And then—the earth trembled beneath their feet.

A loud roar echoed through the air, causing birds to screech into the sky and scared creatures to flee into the bushes.

From the dense undergrowth, something massive emerged.

Its body was a striking shade of crimson, bold black stripes slashing across its form like battle scars. Towering over them, its wings—spanning a staggering 25 meters (82 feet)—flared open, their fiery yellow and orange patterns glowing like the embers of a dying sun.