As the fat began to melt into a clear, golden oil, Hana began the mixing process. She added the crushed Salt-Leaves she’d gathered—rich in alkaline minerals—to act as the chemical agent. Finally, she tossed in a handful of bruised peppercorn berries and a few fragrant pine needles.

> [PROGRESS ALERT: PRIMITIVE CHEMISTRY UNLOCKED]

> [Current Task: Create ’Rose-Peppercorn’ Cleansing Bar]

Raiden watched the bubbling mixture, his green eyes reflecting the flames.

"You are a strange creature, Hana. You treat the world like a set of parts to be dismantled and rebuilt. Is everything a tool to you?"

"Where I come from, if it isn’t a tool, it’s a corpse," Hana muttered, stirring the mixture with a clean bone.

A loud CRASH suddenly echoed from the back of the cave. Caspian had accidentally knocked over a pile of Vane’s ’tribute’ stones while trying to move a heavy black pillar.

"Caspian!" Hana yelled without even looking up. "If I hear one more rock drop, you’re sleeping outside your den tonight!"

The cave went instantly, terrifyingly silent.

Caspian was upset. Even more so that he had to do the cleaning while Raiden did whatever they were doing with Hana.

He wanted to spend time with Hana too.

Maybe if he finishes quickly, he’ll be able to join her. He thought and turned.

Raiden chuckled, a soft, musical sound that made Caspian feel even more annoyed.

"You really do have him on a very short leash, don’t you? It’s a miracle his fire hasn’t gone out from the sheer embarrassment."

"It’s not a leash," Hana said, pouring the thickening soap into small leaf-molds she’d prepared. "It’s a boundary. Something you’d do well to remember before you try sneaking into my bedding tonight."

Raiden’s ears flicked, a playful glint in his emerald eyes, but he stayed silent. He knew better than to push her when she had that particular ’look’ in her eyes—the one that suggested she was calculating exactly how many ways she could use a soap-stirring bone as a weapon.

He didn’t want to be a victim or used as an example.

​Hana set the molds carefully on a flat stone near the edge of the fire’s warmth so they could dry. The scent of pine and sharp peppercorn began to cut through the heavy, stagnant air of the cave.

Satisfied, she turned to clear a larger space on the floor for her own bed of ferns, kicking away a loose, moth-eaten pile of mangy hides that Caspian had obviously ignored during his ’reorganization.’

​As she pushed the heavy furs aside, her foot caught on something hard.

​A rock?

​She frowned, looking down. In the dim, flickering light of the fire, this thing by her foot didn’t reflect the orange glow like the obsidian or the emeralds. Instead, it gave off a dull shimmer—like moonlight caught in a spiderweb.

​Hana knelt, her fingers brushing away the centuries of dust and shed dragon scales. She reached out and pulled.

​It wasn’t a rock. It was a shimmering cloth.

​As she dragged it out from the dirt, the fabric unrolled with a silent, fluidity that no animal hide could ever mimic. It was cold to the touch—unnaturally so—and so smooth it felt like running her hand over still water. It was a deep, iridescent silver, woven with a precision that was impossible for the crude sewing talent of this world.

​Hana’s heart gave a sudden, rough thump against her ribs. She knew this texture. She knew this weight.

​"Caspian," she called out, her voice losing its edge of annoyance and turning sharp with a different kind of intensity.

​The dragon stopped mid-heave, a massive boulder held over his head. He dropped it with a bone-shaking thud and turned, his golden eyes blinking with a dark glow.

"What? Did the fox touch you? Do I need to incinerate him?"

​"No," Hana said, her fingers gripping the edge of the metallic fabric. "This. Where did you get this? And don’t tell me it was a ’spoil of victory’—no tribe in this forest could make this."

​Caspian walked over, his heavy footsteps echoing in the walls of the cave. He looked down at the silver bundle in her hands and let out a dismissive snort.

​"That?" he rumbled, tilting his head. "It was in the hoard of the North Peak when I took this den from the old Frost-Drakes. It is useless. My claws cannot rip it, and my fire cannot burn it, so I cannot shape it into anything useful. It is too thin to keep a dragon warm, so I threw it under the bedding."

​Hana stared at him, her jaw nearly dropping. "You used Nano-Fiber Weave as a floor mat?"

​Raiden leaned in, sniffing the air near the cloth. "Nano... what? It has no scent, Hana. It feels like... nothing. Like touching a ghost."

Have you ever even seen a ghost, much less touched one?

​Hana ignored the fox. Her mind was racing. This wasn’t just cloth; this was a high-tier environmental suit material from the late-era bunkers. It was waterproof, fire-resistant, and nearly indestructible.

> ​[ITEM IDENTIFIED: SYTH-STEEL WEAVE (Damaged)]

> [Notice: Can be repurposed using Primitive Crafting (Level 2)]

> [Potential Reward: +15,000 Points for ’Advanced Technology Integration’]

​Fifteen thousand points. Ah, now they were finally getting somewhere with the point system.

And more importantly, she finally had the materials to make a top that Caspian couldn’t rip.

​"This ’useless’ ghost-skin is going to be my new clothes," Hana said, a small, wicked smile touching her lips for the first time. "Raiden, find me a bone needle and the thinnest gut-string we have. If there are none, then make one. Caspian... go back to your rocks and keep cleaning. I have work to do."