Renkai's claws retracted slowly as the last of the brush fell away. What lay ahead wasn't a clearing—at least not in the way the forest usually offered. It was more like a hollow carved from time itself. The trees stood still here, unmoving, as though watching. The air was wet and heavy, every breath a struggle as the fog thickened into swirling curtains.
Then it came.
A low rumble shivered through the ground. Not a growl—deeper than that. Ancient. Like a mountain shifting in its sleep.
Lira froze. The shape they had glimpsed through the mist was moving.
