A/n: Sorry for the te update; I had some personal issues and was spiraling down. But now I'm back on track.

  Aether spoke up, his voice firm, cutting through the silence before anyone else could speak.“Let’s observe the mana first. Understanding the flow of mana might tell us what kind of world we’ve stepped into. Only then should we interact with the humans.”

  Nova quickly chimed in, trying to catch Aether’s approval once more.“That’s a great idea,” he said, nodding as if it had been his own thought.

  A few others voiced their agreement, and with a swift majority, the collective moved into consensus. Observation mode was chosen.

  Doguduk, one of the recently awakened, raised a curious question.“But how exactly do we observe mana? Do we have a method?”

  Mindless Schor entered the conversation with a calm certainty.“It’s simple. We decide to see it—and we do.”

  And with that, the decision was made. One by one, their awareness shifted. The collective entered into a state of focused observation.

  In this mode, they could no longer move or act—they were still, anchored in pce like silent sentinels.

  Then, it began.

  Blue light slowly bled into their vision, threading itself through the air in glimmering streams. The lines brightened, weaving themselves into intricate patterns, delicate and dense like a celestial cobweb cast across the nd.

  Suddenly, the collective felt it.

  A gaze.

  Malicious—no, overwhelming. It wasn't just a look; it was a force, crushing and invasive, ced with an intent so vile and controlling that even the will of the collective faltered beneath it. It struck like a predator eyeing prey, and every instinct in their shared being screamed, Run—hide—submit.

  But they couldn’t.

  Every thought ground to a halt. Every voice went silent. The great mind of the collective, normally vibrant and humming with yered consciousness, went utterly bnk.

  Then, without warning, words appeared before all of them.

  [DAYS TO APOCALYPSE: 300]

  And just like that, the presence vanished.

  The oppressive weight lifted, and the collective gasped—not with lungs, but with thought, like a floodgate breaking open.

  “What the actual fuck was that?” Tab Gaxy snapped, their voice shaking more from shock than anger.

  Aether’s tone was cold, clipped, already back in control. “This is what I’ve been saying all along. We are not alone. There are others like us out there… and some might be far worse.”

  “We need power,” he continued. “Now. Before it’s too te.”

  There was no argument. None dared to voice one.

  Davy broke the heavy silence. “What… exactly is the apocalypse?”

  Mindless Schor replied, their tone pensive. “Even with the near-limitless knowledge shared within the collective, I don’t believe we have an answer.”

  Nova frowned. “Why not? Don’t we know everything?”

  Aether let out a dry scoff. “Use your head. We possess all knowledge that has been, not what will be. The apocalypse lies in the future. It's not written in our records—because it hasn’t happened yet.”

  Nova gave a small nod, the weight of the answer settling in. “Right. Makes sense.”

  There was a brief pause. No one said it aloud, but the unease lingered. The countdown ticking in the background of all their minds, silent yet deafening.

  After a while, the panic and disarray among the voices faded.

  Nilena's voice danced through the collective like a curious breeze. “Shall we observe some humans now? Don’t you think it’s interesting?”

  Ales, the Gard of Nature, lit up like a child catching his first sunrise. “Yes! Let’s do that. Isn’t it fascinating? Watching humans—the same beings we once were—from the outside? We’ll learn so much about their nature. About ourselves, too.”

  Knowledge joined in, calm and steady. “I agree. There is value in observation. Especially from a third point of view. Perspective can be more revealing than memory.”

  Davy chimed in, bringing them back to order. “Alright, let’s not forget our ways. Time to vote again.”

  He projected the list of candidates across the collective mindscape, each name glowing like a star.

  “Which of these humans shall we observe first?”

  Elder Varic—Vilge Chief

  Mira—Herbalist

  Lana Baker

  Osric—Merchant

  Bran—Hunter

  Selene—Healer

  Doran—Guard

  Balin—Carpenter

  The results shimmered into view within the shared consciousness of the collective, glowing softly in strands of blue light across the mental pne. Each name pulsed with the weight of collective choice.

  Elder Varic—Vilge Chief — 5 votesSelene—Healer — 5 votesMira—Herbalist — 3 votesOsric—Merchant — 3 votesBran—Hunter — 3 votesDoran—Guard — 2 votesLana—Baker — 0 votesBalin—Carpenter — 0 votes

  Aether gave a slight nod. “The chief and the healer. It seems like the collective finds the roots and the lifeblood of the vilge most worthy of our eyes.”

  Nilena hummed thoughtfully. “The ones who lead and the ones who heal. That’s a curious bance. Power and mercy.”

  “Maybe together, they show us the true face of this vilge,” Knowledge added.

  “Then let’s observe them both,” said Ales, eyes twinkling in excitement. “Let’s see what these humans are really like.”

  **

  Observation Mode: Elder Varic

  The elder sat hunched at his desk, the soft rustle of parchment the only sound in the room as his pen glided over document after document—construction approvals, supply requests, maintenance records. His brow furrowed in thought, the lines on his face etched deep from years of duty.

  A light knock came at the already ajar door.

  He looked up, his stern features immediately softening. “Ah, hey there, boy. How are you?”

  A young boy stood in the doorway, shuffling awkwardly. “Nothing much, Dad… I just missed you, so I came.”

  The elder smiled warmly, motioning him in. “That’s sweet of you. How was your magic session today?”

  The boy hesitated.

  Silence stretched in the room like a taut string.

  The elder’s smile faltered. His eyes sharpened, the warmth in his expression draining away. “You didn’t go… did you?”

  The boy lowered his gaze, guilt sinking into his posture.

  The elder exhaled sharply. “You know you’ll be leading this vilge after me, don’t you?”

  The boy gave a small nod.

  “And you think you can afford to sck off with that kind of weight on your shoulders?”

  “I won’t disa—,” he began, but the words never finished.

  Two rge men stepped into view behind him, looming like silent statues.

  The elder’s gaze didn’t waver. “Go on now,” he said to his son, his voice ft. “We’ll talk ter.”

  The boy nodded quickly and slipped out of the room. The door shut behind him with a soft click as the two men entered fully, walking forward without a word. The elder leaned back in his chair, the gentle father gone, repced by the calcuting gaze of a ruler.

  Cast Your Votes Here (New Members Can Also Join): https://forms.gle/SxMVgFz2PVSK21gg7