Zane woke with a groan, his back sore from sleeping on uneven ground. The light filtering through the trees told him it was morning—or close enough. His stomach snarled in protest.
> [Status: Rested. Energy: 60%]
[Voidwalk: Available]
"Food," he muttered, clutching his gut. "Need food. Now."
As he stood, the smell of woodsmoke drifted to his nose. He turned toward it instinctively, eyes narrowing. Smoke meant fire. Fire meant people. People meant food.
With a flicker of thought, he activated his skill.
In a blink, he was on a rocky ledge with a clear view of the source—a camp nestled between crumbled walls and tall trees. Three people sat around a fire, roasting skewers of meat. But they weren't hunters.
They wore matching dark uniforms with silver trim, each bearing an emblem Zane didn't recognize. Their gear was neat, organized, with journals and spellbooks stacked near their bedrolls.
Students? He squinted. Some kind of academy?
Zane crouched behind the stone, listening. One of the boys leaned closer to the fire.
"I still say it was overkill," he muttered. "That Thornhide was already weakened when we showed up."
"Doesn't matter," the girl replied. "It was our mission. We finished it. That's all that counts."
Zane's jaw clenched. They're the ones who killed the beast...
Another voice—quieter, sharper—spoke. "You're just mad because you didn't land the finishing blow."
They bickered on, unaware of the starving boy hidden nearby, his eyes fixed not on them—but on the sizzling meat.
Okay, Zane thought. Wait for the right moment. In and out. Just like training.
Minutes crawled by. Finally, the trio retreated into a makeshift tent. Zane waited a heartbeat longer... then acted.
In an instant, he was at the campfire. The warmth hit his face as he snatched two skewers, then grabbed a third for good measure. He reached for a half-loaf of bread—when a sudden voice rang out.
Zane turned, frozen, one hand still mid-snatch. A girl stood at the tent's flap, wide-eyed.
For a split second, they locked eyes.
Then Zane, mouth full of stolen meat, raised two fingers in a lazy peace sign.
The girl shouted, "Someone just—he teleported! He stole our food!"
Inside the trees, Zane tumbled behind a rock and clutched his prize like treasure. Laughing through a mouthful of meat, he muttered, "Worth it."