The forest grew denser with every step.
The trees, immense and ancient, stood like pillars of a natural temple that had long forgotten the touch of man. Their thick bark was marked by deep veins, like the wrinkles of a living being who had slumbered for millennia. The canopies intertwined so high and thick that the sky, once visible through occasional gaps, now hid completely. Only a filtered greenish light escaped through the cracks—pale, trembling, as if hesitant to disturb what resided there.
The silence was absolute, oppressive. An acoustic void thickening around Aziz like an invisible cloak.
The air was saturated with the scent of moss, rotting leaves, and moisture. The ground beneath his feet yielded slightly, spongy from accumulated organic matter. Each breath pulled the forest's weight into his lungs—humidity, fungus, decay. But beneath it all... there was something more.
Something that did not belong solely to the earth or the trees.
Aziz felt it.
