The forest was a suffocating void.
Aedan sprinted forward, his boots barely making a sound against the damp earth. The dense canopy above swallowed the moonlight, leaving him in near-total darkness. Only the occasional glint of silver from his dagger reminded him that he was still here, still moving, still alive.
Cold air bit at his skin, thick with the scent of damp wood and something rotten. His breath came fast, forming mist in the eerie silence. He could hear his own pulse, hammering like a war drum. But beyond that—
There was nothing.
The whispers had stopped.
And that scared him more than anything.
"Keep moving. Don't stop. Don't think."
Somewhere in this abyss, Kael was fighting for his life.
The weight of the shard in his pocket grew heavier with each step, its warmth a stark contrast to the creeping chill that threatened to consume him. It pulsed—slow, steady, almost as if it were breathing. Reacting.
Then—
A scream.
Raw. Agonized.
Kael.
Aedan's chest clenched. He surged forward, his body screaming in protest, but he didn't slow. He tore through the underbrush, ignoring the sting of branches raking across his face. His vision blurred from the sheer speed, but he didn't dare stop.
"Please, let me make it in time."
And then he saw it.
The clearing.
The moon above peeked through a break in the trees, casting a dim, ghostly glow over the scene before him. His stomach twisted.
Kael was trapped.
A thing had wrapped itself around him, its twisted, ink-like form pulsing with an unnatural rhythm. Shadowy tendrils slithered along Kael's skin, sinking beneath his flesh. His veins bulged, black and shifting, like something alive was coursing through them.
His face—contorted in pain—was pale, his eyes wide and empty.
Aedan staggered forward, his mind screaming at him to do something. But his body refused to move.
Because the creature was looking at him.
Or at least, it felt like it was.
It had no eyes. No features. Just an amorphous, writhing mass of shadow with shifting limbs and something that resembled a head. It pulsed, its form unstable, flickering in and out of existence. But despite its ever-changing shape, Aedan could feel its intent.
It wasn't just attacking Kael.
It was corrupting him.
The realization hit Aedan like ice water down his spine.
This wasn't just a fight. This was something else. Something worse.
Kael wasn't just being drained. He was being turned into one of them.
"You are not ready."
The words from before echoed in Aedan's mind, sending a violent shudder through his body.
But ready or not—he wasn't going to stand here and do nothing.
Aedan moved.
With a snarl, he yanked his dagger free. The blade gleamed under the sickly moonlight, a fragile sliver of resistance against the overwhelming dark. His body screamed in protest, exhaustion clawing at his limbs, but he forced himself forward.
He lunged.
The dagger cut through the air, aimed straight for the creature's head—
Only for something to grab his wrist mid-strike.
Aedan barely registered the movement before—
Pain.
Blinding, searing pain shot through his arm.
It wasn't a normal grip.
It was cold.
Not just the absence of heat, but something deeper, something wrong. It burned through his nerves, turning his blood to ice. His vision blurred, and for a moment, his body stopped responding.
A low whisper slithered into his mind, clawing at his thoughts.
"Not yet."
The voice wasn't human.
It was everywhere.
Inside him. Around him. Beneath his skin.
The darkness pressed in.
His grip loosened. His limbs grew heavy.
His thoughts slowed.
And then—
Memories that weren't his.
A future that didn't belong to him.
A glimpse of something terrifying—
"You will understand soon."
Then—
A spark.
The shard.
It reacted.
A surge of heat erupted from his pocket, flooding his body with sudden, searing warmth. A burst of light ignited from his chest, blinding against the abyss.
The creature screeched.
Its grip shattered.
Aedan stumbled back, gasping for air, his body trembling. His head spun, but—he was still here. He was still himself.
More importantly—
The creatures were recoiling.
They hissed and writhed, their forms flickering erratically, their very existence unstable under the shard's glow. The one holding Kael let out a distorted, warbling shriek, its faceless head snapping toward Aedan in rage.
For the first time, the whispers stopped.
Aedan gripped the shard through his pocket, heart hammering.
It had worked.
He could fight back.
But there was no time to think.
Kael's body convulsed, his veins still pulsing with darkness.
Aedan cursed. He had to act now.
Gritting his teeth, he threw himself forward.
The creature lunged to intercept.
Aedan didn't hesitate.
He dove low, sliding beneath its shifting mass, and slammed his dagger straight into Kael's chest—
Right where the dark veins converged.
The blade flared to life.
A pulse of light erupted from the wound, spreading through Kael's body like wildfire. His back arched, his mouth opening in a silent scream. The darkness within him convulsed, twisting violently—
Then, with a final, agonized wail, the creature ripped itself away.
Its entire form unraveled, dissolving into wisps of vanishing shadow.
The other creatures shrieked, their twisted forms breaking apart, dissolving into the air like dying embers.
Then—
Silence.
Aedan's pulse pounded in his ears.
The suffocating presence was gone.
All that remained was Kael's unmoving body.
Aedan swallowed hard, his hands shaking as he reached out. "Kael—"
A shallow breath.
Then another.
Kael's fingers twitched. His eyes fluttered open—unfocused, glassy, but alive.
Aedan let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
He had won.
But as he looked down at his own shaking hands, his relief turned to something else.
Because he knew, deep down—
This was only the beginning.