Hale trudged through the woods, his boots squishing on wet leaves as his flashlight beam sliced through the dark. He tried to retrace his steps from yesterday, but something about tonight felt off. The air was heavy, like the forest was holding its breath, watching him.
He stopped for a second, straining to hear anything. It was too quiet. No chirping crickets, no rustling leaves, just this creepy silence that made his skin prickle. He knew trees were supposed to give off oxygen or whatever, but this felt weird, like the woods were alive in a way that gave him the chills.
Hale tightened his grip on the flashlight and kept going, pushing deeper until the faint glow of town lights disappeared. The forest had gone dead still. No bugs, no breeze also, just a low, eerie howl now and then that sent shivers down his spine.
Every part of him screamed to turn back, but he was convinced that these woods definitely held answers.
Hale was ready to give up the search for the day, his legs aching from wandering the woods, when his flashlight lit up something odd—a single tree standing all by itself in a clearing. It wasn't spooky or weird, just… different, like it didn't belong with the other trees. He slowed down, a funny feeling in his gut telling him to check it out. He walked around it, eyeing the bark and the roots. Nothing special. Just a tree, right?
He let out a big sigh, feeling dog-tired. These woods seemed to stretch on forever, and he was beat. But this spot felt… nice. The air was calm, almost warm, like the forest was giving him a little hug. It was the kind of place that made you want to sit and stay a while.
Hale dropped his backpack and spread out a blanket on the grass. No tent or need to setup camp, just him and the quiet. He flopped down, eyes heavy, and drifted off, too worn out to keep going.
Out of nowhere, shadowy figures slipped out from the trees, sneaky types moving like they owned the night. They crept toward the clearing, circling Hale like vultures eyeing their next meal. The first one got close, stepping right up to the edge—then bam! A burst of light shot up from the ground, like something out of a fairy tale. A glowing bubble popped up around the entire clearing, sparkling like a shield straight out of a movie.
The figure who got too close jumped back, shaking their hand like they'd touched a hot stove, their cloak smoking a bit.
The sun's rays stirred Hale from sleep. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes as he adjusted to the light. After a moment to gather himself, he scanned the clearing—nothing seemed out of place. Everything was calm.
He reached into his backpack and pulled out one of the tins he'd taken from the house. It wasn't much, but it was enough for breakfast. Once he was done, he packed everything up and prepared to leave.
Just as he turned to go, something caught his eye—etched into the bark of the tree was a symbol. A triskelion.
He froze.
It took him a moment, but the memory came rushing back. He had seen that symbol before—on a map back in the house. He hadn't paid it much attention at the time, thinking it was just a design or decoration. But now, it felt like a missing piece.
His heart sank a little. If the symbol mattered, then it meant only one thing—he had to go back. His path wasn't straight. It was a loop.
And the house was the place to start again.
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Melissa woke up to a strange noise. At first, she wasn't sure if she was dreaming, but as the sound grew louder, she sat up and listened closely. It wasn't just noise — it was shouting. She got out of bed, a bit disoriented, and stepped out of the room.
In the hallway, she saw some people struggling to hold down a skinny guy. He looked like he was in some kind of trance, his body twisting as if he was fighting something no one else could see. Melissa slowed down as she walked past, watching for a moment. No one paid her any attention — they were too focused on the boy.
She kept walking and ended up back in the room where she had first been tied up. The scarred man was there, sitting calmly like always.
"You're awake," he said.
"Yeah," she replied, then paused. "That boy… who is he?"
"His name's Zeck," the man answered. "Killmonger's brother."
Melissa raised her brows, surprised.
"Ever since Killmonger was murdered, Zeck's been slipping into trances," he explained. "He keeps talking about taking down the person responsible. I'm guessing you already know who that is."
Melissa looked away for a second before nodding slowly. "I do."
"Are you prepared for your battle?" he asked.
She hesitated for a moment, then gave a firm nod. He studied her expression carefully before speaking again.
"Remember, you can always surrender if your opponent turns out to be too strong."
Before he could say more, she cut in, "I'm ready."
He gave a slight smile. "Alright then. But before your turn, would you like to watch the battle ahead of yours?"
She didn't object—just gave a quick nod. Without another word, they turned and began walking toward the arena together.