The goose laughs, and in that moment, the world feels steady once more. Yet their joy does not go unnoticed. Chitchat, the squirrel, appears from the treetops, buzzing with her boundless energy.

“Brightbill’s back! Brightbill’s back!” she squeals, her cries echoing and waking the forest’s inhabitants.

Animals emerge one by one: Fink the fox, the beavers from the pond, Swooper the owl from his nest high in the trees. They gather around Brightbill, welcoming him back and eagerly asking about his adventures. The cheerful reunion fills the air, and for a brief moment, it seems the island has regained its peace. But Roz stands quietly, a faint shadow of concern flickering in her mechanical eyes.

Brightbill, ever perceptive, notices the change in his mother’s expression. “Mom, are you okay?” he asks, searching her metallic gaze for clues.

Roz pauses, her sensors detecting a strange scent wafting from the coast—a metallic aroma that does not belong in this natural haven. “I’m fine,” she answers, her tone calm but distant. “But I think... something is coming.”