After the quiet weekend, Kuro returned to school with the strange sensation that even time itself had slipped out of its usual orbit.
Everything in Noctis seemed to carry on as normal: the soft buzz of electric cars, the distant voice from the main gate speakers, the laughter echoing from the first-floor cafeteria.
But Kuro's mind still drifted, blurred by the recent journey.
He greeted the security guard, walked down the hallway, nodded at a few classmates. No one asked anything. No one seemed to notice he had been gone. At the high-tech middle school in Noctis, "self-isolated study" wasn't unusual.
He climbed to the third-floor library. Mike was already there, in their usual corner, under the amber light cast from the left window.
On the table lay a stack of printed images, a thick notebook filled with bullet points, and a new external storage unit Mike had just bought earlier that day.
"I'm a bit late," Kuro said first.
"No worries," Mike replied, still focused on a scanned page. "I was just cross-referencing some older records with our current data."
Kuro sat down, flipped open his notebook to the hand-drawn map: swirling energy routes, matching the outlines of stones and the signal points from their time inside the Hollow.
"Any updates?"
Mike didn't answer right away. He quietly placed a printed image at the center of the table, an old scan extracted just minutes before.
It showed a zone of energy interference recorded three minutes before the main device went offline. In the left edge of the frame was a blurry figure. Faint. But human-shaped, arms outstretched, head tilted back, just like the stone carvings along the rim.
"This one's from the third device," Mike said. "I just pulled it from the backup logs."
Kuro leaned closer. The figure wasn't clear. But when zoomed in, there was a soft glow around the head and arms, not sunlight, but thermal fluctuation.
"Could be distortion?" Kuro asked.
Mike shook his head. "Not sure… but that place isn't normal."
He tapped the corner of the printout. "And if this pattern matches… it's nearly identical to the frequency noted in the R-13 Trace files from eighteen years ago."
"The one where a survey team vanished in eastern Luxios?"
"Yeah. Except back then, they recorded nothing clear. Just... the Hollow and unusual audio traces. This time, we have an actual image of a monument."
For over an hour, the two barely spoke. Only the sound of turning pages, pencil marks ticking across paper, and the glow of a tablet showing layered graphs.
Kuro sketched a new layout of the site from memory, the stone placements, the topographical gaps, and the boundaries of the dangerous basin.
"The stones aren't randomly placed," Mike noted. "They're all aligned northeast. If we connect each of these points…"
He drew a line on the map.
"…the convergence falls exactly to the north."
Kuro looked up. "You mean… like a signal? A directional marker?"
Mike nodded. "Maybe it's a relay station. But it's just a theory."
Kuro stayed quiet. He pulled out another page from his notebook. Six standing stones, all facing inward. And a circular structure beneath the ground, not exposed.
"If there's really something buried down there… it might hold physical records. Pottery. Ruins. Or… a message."
Mike's voice lowered. "Are you ready to go back?"
Kuro didn't respond. His eyes drifted to the window's edge, where late afternoon light spilled in golden hues down the wall.
As the sun fell lower, they remained in place. Now their table held more: a thermal scan from the school archives, satellite imagery of the forest near Noctis. They compared tree layers, erosion marks, and night glimmers.
At one spot, coordinates 4°14'N, 31°E, a section was always clouded. Or else so dense with foliage the satellite couldn't capture a single usable image.
"It's like it doesn't exist," Mike murmured.
"No one in government notices?" Kuro asked, eyes fixed on the screen.
Mike said nothing, sliding the laptop toward Kuro.
"There's a repeated wave signature," he said. "Not visual. Audio."
He tapped the external drive, pulled up the final audio clip saved before the primary sensor failed.
The first sound: wind.
Then a faint clack. Then silence. Then again. Almost identical. Like someone tapping hollow wood.
"The timing isn't regular. But the vibration? Consistent."
Kuro listened three times. By the fourth, his brows furrowed.
"You think it's… a message? Or just random?"
"Not enough samples to decode," Mike said. "But I think it's a kind of resonance. Like sonar bouncing back."
"Next time… we prepare differently."
"We're going back," Kuro replied immediately. "Not for curiosity. Because it's… waiting."
Evening settled in as they packed up. Papers filed away, lights dimmed.
Then a voice cut through the still air.
"You two think this is how research is done?"
Professor Halden, Mike and Kuro's academic advisor, stood at the doorway, arms crossed. His gaze wasn't angry. Just cold.
"I've received reports," he said slowly, "about unauthorized access to regional archives, unfocused lab sessions, and group neglect."
He paused. "And the names mentioned the most, are yours."
Kuro and Mike stood. No time to react.
"This isn't your first warning," Halden continued, eyes glancing at the map stack. "I don't care what you're chasing. But if other groups are delayed, or data becomes inaccessible, I'll intervene."
Mike opened his mouth. "Sir, we didn't log in to, "
"No excuses," Halden cut in. His voice wasn't loud, but it was sharp. "I've heard enough spin."
Kuro's brow tightened. He lowered his eyes, about to speak,
"Submit a formal project outline within forty-eight hours," Halden said. "No hand-drawings. No verbal briefs. Everything must be documented. If you discover anything unusual, report it. Follow protocol. This isn't a playground for personal experiments."
He paused, eyes resting on Kuro's notebook.
"You're bright. I know. But intelligence without discipline? Doesn't belong in Noctis."
Then he turned and walked away.
His footsteps faded into the hallway, leaving only the hum of the air system and a sky stained in deepening orange.
Mike looked over, voice now hushed.
"We're on the radar."
Kuro nodded. His hand rested on the notebook, as if trying to hold shut a door that was already opening.
"We were careless," he whispered. "But… who reported us?"