The forest was not silent.
Every step Erian took stirred a chorus of distant sounds: creaks, screeches, a constant hum that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. The fog, thick as milk, clung to the ground up to his knees, and the greenish glow of the fungi made everything look like part of a dream… or a nightmare.
The woman walked ahead of him without a word, moving between roots as if she knew every tree by heart. Her spear rested on her back, but her hand never left the shaft. Always ready.
Erian followed without complaint. His wet clothes clung to his skin like a second layer of ice, and each step left him number than before. He shivered, but he couldn't afford distraction.
"Do you… live here?" he asked, breaking the silence. "Is this place your home?"
The woman didn't stop.
"Who told you this is a home?"
Erian frowned.
"I don't know… it felt like a world. I assumed—"
"This is no world." Her voice was low, almost as if speaking to herself. "It's a hunting ground. Or a prison."
A knot tightened in his stomach. He looked around more carefully.
"How did I end up here? I remember jumping off the cliff… and then I saw something. It was me, but older. Broken, somehow."
This time, she stopped. Glanced at him, her expression unreadable.
"You saw an Echo."
"A what?"
"A reflection. Of what you might become. Or what you already lost." She looked away, as if her own words hurt. "Sometimes it's a warning. Other times, a promise. But it never lies."
A different kind of chill ran through Erian. One that settled in his chest.
"It looked… sad."
"Then protect it," she said, her voice softer now. "Your future, I mean. In this place, you can lose it before you realize."
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They kept walking for what felt like an hour. The forest began to change. The leaves darkened, turning almost black, and the fog grew thicker. From time to time, shadows darted between the trees—too fast to tell if they were beasts… or something worse.
Erian kept scanning the surroundings. Fear didn't freeze him, but it lingered. Constant. Like a cold hand on the back of his neck.
"Where are we going?"
"To a shelter. Temporary. Just until you learn how not to die so quickly."
"That's… reassuring."
She gave the faintest smile.
"It's not about you. Most don't survive more than three nights. But you jumped. And that… not everyone does."
"And if I die here? What then?"
She glanced at him.
"Depends. If the system accepts you, maybe you come back. But you won't come back the same. Every death… takes something."
Erian stayed quiet for a while.
"How do you know all this?"
"Because I've died twice already."
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They finally reached a clearing. In the center stood a structure made of wood, stone, and dried skins. A makeshift refuge. But compared to the forest, it looked like a sacred place.
She stepped in first and lit a lamp with a violet-glowing liquid.
Erian collapsed into a corner. He couldn't feel his fingers. His whole body ached, but for the first time since arriving, he felt something close to relief.
"Thank you," he murmured, staring at the improvised ceiling. "I don't know why you helped me, but… thank you."
She looked at him for a few seconds, then sat across from him, setting her spear down.
"My name is Kaela."
"Erian. Though… I guess that doesn't matter here, right?"
"It does," she replied seriously. "If you forget who you were, this place will turn you into something else."
He looked at her. There was something broken in her voice—but also strength. A strength that hurt.
"And you? Who were you before?"
Kaela lowered her gaze. Took her time before answering.
"Someone who thought she could save everyone," she whispered. "Now I'm just trying to save myself."
Silence settled between them. Warm, for a moment.
Until a sound outside shattered it.
A creak.
Then another.
And then—a howl. Long. Deep. As if something massive had just sensed them.
Erian shot upright.
"What was that?"
Kaela was already standing, spear in hand.
"Trackers."
"From the Black Bone?"
She nodded.
"We shouldn't have lit the lamp. Damn it..."
Erian felt a pit open in his stomach.
"What do we do?"
Kaela looked at him with a mix of resolve and urgency.
"We get ready to run. Or to kill. Because whatever's coming… it's not going to knock."