The forest felt wrong from the moment they stepped back into it—too still, too suffocating, as though the trees themselves had witnessed something so vile that even the wind dared not speak. Mist clung low to the ground, weaving between roots and fallen leaves in quiet, pale coils, and for a moment the world seemed suspended in a breathless hush.
They moved silently along the path where the mother and daughter had disappeared minutes earlier. Luca led the way, expression unreadable, while the others followed close behind with growing unease prickling the edges of their senses.
Then—a sound.
A wet, choked whimper.
A strangled sob.
They froze as one, instincts sharpening, breath tightening.
Aurelia drew her spear.
Selena lifted her hand, mana crackling faintly at her fingertips.
Sylthara's ears twitched, pupils narrowing to slits.
Together, they pushed through the last veil of branches—
—and the scene waiting in the clearing hollowed the breath from their lungs.
