(Time-Stilled World, 98 Kilometers from Forest Entry, Day 7 Nightfall)
Of course, it wasn't just a coincidence that Karl, Raiden, and Cipher had randomly bumped into Leo and Bob in the middle of a forest that defied direction, light, and logic.
It was Karl.
It was always Karl.
The moment his transcendent-tier senses picked up subtle movement patterns within a one-kilometer radius, something faint brushing against a root, a couple figures bound West with clinical precision— He began tracing it.
He didn't say anything aloud. Not yet.
But he tracked it. Quietly. Patiently. Taking note of every footfall against projected human motion, as he watched for the rhythm, the spacing and the weight behind each impact.
Once satisfied that the movement was human, and more importantly, not hostile, he nudged the others in that direction with careful, subtle steering.
