Felix felt as though he were wading through an endless ocean, the rift pressing against him from every side, swallowing him whole. Space twisted and churned like a storm around him, but far ahead he glimpsed what looked like an end—a thinning seam of light. Gritting his teeth, he trudged forward, step by heavy step, until at last he thrust out his hand and fell through.
Cold white light assaulted his vision. He hissed and raised an arm to shield his eyes.
"Damn—it's so bright."
Blinking against the sting, his sight gradually cleared. What met him stole the words from his tongue.
He stood amidst colossal trees, their trunks armored in dull gray bark that spiraled like stone. Above, their blood-red leaves shivered and swayed in a restless wind. A faint mist coiled through the undergrowth, veiling the forest in shifting curtains of white.
Felix tilted his gaze skyward. The heavens were not blue, but a pale, wretched gray. Hanging at the center of it all was a sun unlike any he had ever seen—blinding white, its edges dripping with slow streams of black, as if the sky itself were bleeding.
A sudden gust swept through the forest, chilling him to the bone. He lifted his arms against the bite of the wind. Behind him, the mist tore away, unveiling a staggering sight.
The crimson forest stretched on without end, rolling in waves until it collided with distant mountains that clawed at the heavens. For a moment, Felix simply stared, breath caught between awe and dread.
Then movement in the sky froze him.
Something vast drifted closer, casting a shadow that seemed to dim even the bleeding sun. As the shape resolved, Felix's chest tightened. It was a dragon—or something that had once been.
Twin heads swayed on ruined necks, their bottom jaws torn away, tongues dangling like useless cords. Black voids gaped where its eyes should have been, hollow and endless. Its ribcage yawned open, bones crooked and jagged, scraps of flesh still clinging as if the thing refused to finish rotting. And its wings—vast, tattered membranes shredded with holes—beat the air with a sluggish, unnatural rhythm, just enough to keep its corpse afloat.
Felix could not move. His breath locked in his throat as the abomination passed overhead, every ragged wingbeat rumbling through his bones. He prayed it would not notice him—that it would drift on, seeking prey elsewhere.
At last, mercifully, the horror glided past, fading into the horizon like a nightmare carried away on the wind.
Felix exhaled sharply, only then realizing he'd been holding his breath. His lips twisted into a weak grin, the expression stretched thin over the fear still clawing at his chest.
"If I ever see that thing again…" He muttered, voice low. "It'll be too soon."
Felix reached into his coat and pulled out the Drifter Pendant. The small piece of metal was cold against his palm, heavier than it had any right to be.
"Alright… first things first. Gotta get my bearings."
He dangled it before him, watching as it swayed on its thin chain. For a few seconds, it spun lazily, the black needle trembling as though reluctant to move. Then—softly, almost reluctantly—the tip glowed with a faint purple hue. Slowly, it lifted, pointing toward the great mountains that loomed in the distance, their jagged crowns stabbing into the heavens beyond the endless expanse of scarlet forest.
Felix exhaled and stepped closer to the cliff's edge. Below stretched a sheer drop, sharp stone teeth waiting to tear him apart. Mist drifted along the base, swallowing everything from sight. The fall would certainly kill him.
"Yeah… that's a no. Guess I'll have to find my own way down."
He tucked the pendant away and turned back to the trees, their blood-red canopies rustling against a sky the color of rotting bone.
The forest closed around him like a cage. Felix had been walking for maybe an hour—two at most—but the silence pressed on him harder with every step. The trees all looked the same: trunks of dull gray bark wide enough to swallow houses, their leaves swaying like sheets of crimson flame.
The ground was soft with layers of decayed leaves, each step sinking with a wet crunch. Mist clung to the undergrowth, never dispersing, curling into shapes that sometimes looked too much like twisted figures lurking just out of reach.
He gripped his bow tightly, an arrow resting against the string. The air carried no birdsong, no insect hum—nothing but the low groan of trees shifting against the wind.
His stomach growled. Felix reached into his pocket, fingers brushing against the foil wrapper of a breakfast bar. A little piece of home, stolen from the cafeteria. He tore it open, lifted it to his mouth—
Movement.
Barely, just at the edge of his vision.
Felix's instincts took over. He spun, bow drawn, the arrow's tip glinting faintly in the pale light. His pulse thundered as he scanned the mist. Nothing moved. Only the sway of branches overhead and the curl of vapor around his boots.
He waited. A minute passed. Another. Still nothing.
Slowly, he exhaled, lowering the tension in the bowstring but keeping the arrow notched.
"Am I just… getting paranoid?" he muttered, the sound of his voice swallowed instantly by the fog.
He started forward again, but this time his steps were slower, more deliberate. The slope ahead descended into a thicker patch of forest, where the mist pooled like water in a basin. The air grew colder. The trees here were different—twisted, bent toward each other like they were conspiring. Some bore strange scars, long claw marks that stripped the gray bark down to raw black wood beneath.
Felix froze, crouching low. Ahead, in the mist, he could make out drag marks in the leaves, grooves leading deeper downslope. Something heavy had been hauled through here recently.
The breakfast bar in his hand suddenly felt ridiculous.
He quietly stowed it away and tightened his grip on the bow.
"Alright," he whispered, eyes scanning the mist. "If something's watching me… then come on. Say hello."
The forest didn't answer. But in the silence, Felix swore he heard it—a faint clicking sound, like claws tapping stone, echoing just out of sight.
Felix's eyes wandered, scanning the crimson forest as he trailed the faint drag marks weaving through the mist. Every step felt heavier, not because of the terrain, but because of that gnawing sensation at the back of his mind—the weight of unseen eyes. He had felt it before, fleeting and uncertain. But this time… this time he was sure. Something was watching.
His grip on the bow tightened until his knuckles whitened. Then, slowly, he exhaled and released one hand from the weapon. Threads shimmered into existence at his fingertips—five strands of pale ether unfurling like living filaments, stretching outward in silent arcs.
He had been meaning to test this idea. Now seemed as good a time as any.
Felix shut his eyes, forcing the forest from his vision, and instead listened through the threads. One by one, he sent them crawling out in different directions, weaving through the trees, brushing over bark, stirring the mist. He focused on the faint pull in his chest, the distant vibrations traveling back to him like ripples on a taut wire.
Then he pushed his ether into them.
The world changed. His mind snapped open to fractured glimpses—jagged, overlapping shards of sight not his own. Through one thread he caught the gray blur of mist winding between roots. Through another, the gleam of blood-red leaves swaying overhead. Another flashed a distorted stretch of the cliffside far behind him. His vision broke apart, splitting and refracting like shards of a shattered mirror.
It was disorienting, dizzying. Like staring through the compound eyes of a fly. But beneath the chaos of images, Felix felt a strange thrill.
It worked.
Felix cycled through the fractured visions, his sight flickering from thread to thread like shards of broken glass. At first, it was disorienting—bark, mist, a blur of scarlet leaves—but with each switch, he steadied himself, training his mind to separate the pieces into something coherent.
Then, from the perspective of the thread clinging high above, he caught it—movement. A shadow darting between branches, too deliberate to be the wind. Felix froze, his pulse quickening as he locked onto the view.
There, half-hidden against the gray bark, something clung to the side of a massive trunk. Its limbs were twisted, too long, too thin, fingers hooked into the wood like talons. The thing was pressed low, coiled tight, its body trembling with restrained force. And its head—if it could even be called that—was tilted at an unnatural angle, eyeless sockets fixed on him with dreadful intent.
The realization struck him like ice. It wasn't moving through the forest at random. It had been tracking him. Waiting.
And now it was ready to pounce.
Felix's breath hitched. His hand tightened on the bowstring, muscles coiled, every sense straining. Then, with a crack of wood, the abomination lunged.
It hit the ground where Felix had stood a heartbeat earlier, claws gouging deep scars into the earth. Felix rolled, loosing an arrow mid-motion. The shaft hissed through the mist and struck the thing's shoulder, making it screech—a jagged, broken sound, like metal grinding on stone.
Up close, the creature was worse. Its skin hung in strips, gray and mottled, stretched too thin over a wiry frame. Its mouth was split far too wide, teeth crowding its jaw in uneven rows. When it hissed, its throat rattled like dry leaves.
Felix staggered back, nocking another arrow. The threads whipped around him, one seizing his knife from its sheath. He sent it slashing at the abomination, but the creature twisted unnaturally, spine bending like a serpent's, and leapt sideways up a tree.
"Fast little bastard…" Felix muttered, drawing again.
Before he could loose, a shadow flickered in the corner of another thread's vision. A second creature, slinking down from the canopy, its limbs clicking against the bark.
Felix cursed under his breath.
The first one pounced again, and Felix fired, the arrow sinking deep into its ribs. The thing screamed, but it didn't stop—it crashed into him, sending him sprawling. Claws raked his arm, and pain lanced white-hot through his nerves. Felix snarled, threads snapping tight, forcing the beast's head back as it snapped at his throat.
The other one hit the ground nearby, circling, waiting for its chance.
Felix kicked hard, dislodging the first monster just enough to roll away. His sleeve was shredded, blood seeping down his arm. The smell of it filled the air—coppery, sharp. The circling abomination perked up, tilting its head like a starving dog catching scent of meat.
And then, from farther in the mist, another shriek answered.
Felix's heart sank. More were coming.
"Great. Just what I needed."
The first abomination scrambled up a tree again, clinging like a spider, while the second prowled low, trying to flank him. His threads flared outward, one lashing his knife into a wide arc to keep them at bay. He fired another arrow into the circling one, catching it in the thigh. It stumbled, snarled, but only grew more frenzied.
The mist thickened, carrying more distant screeches, echoing through the crimson forest.
Felix's chest heaved, every instinct screaming at him to run—but where? The forest stretched endless, the cliff was behind him, and the rift was gone. He had no choice but to fight.
He set his jaw, raising his bow again, threads swirling like phantom limbs around him.
"Come on, then," he whispered, voice raw. "Let's see what the Cradle's really made of."
The creatures screamed and charged.
The first abomination shrieked and dove from above, claws extended like hooked blades. Felix snapped a thread tight, yanking his bow sideways, and the creature's strike missed his skull by inches. He rolled to one knee and loosed an arrow point-blank into its chest. The shaft buried deep, staggering the beast, but it didn't fall.
It didn't even slow.
Felix's knife whipped up from his side, threads lashing it across the creature's face. The blade cut a ragged line through its cheek, splitting skin and exposing teeth beneath. The monster reared back, shrieking loud enough to make Felix's ears ring.
The second abomination lunged low, faster than he expected. Its claws raked across his thigh, slicing fabric and flesh. Pain shot through him, his leg buckling. Felix fell back hard, barely raising his bow in time to wedge it against the thing's snapping jaws. Hot, foul breath blasted his face as black saliva dripped from its teeth.
"Get—off—me!"
Threads lashed, driving the knife down into the creature's neck. It screamed and thrashed, jerking violently before Felix twisted the blade free and shoved it aside.
His heart thundered. His blood was warm against his leg, dripping into the grass. The scent of it thickened the air.
And the forest answered.
A third cry split the mist. Then another. Shapes moved in the trees, thin and skeletal, darting through the red canopy like vultures circling a dying beast.
"Too many…" Felix hissed, stumbling back against a tree.
The first abomination came again, leaping from the branches. Felix dropped low and fired upward. The arrow punched through the roof of its mouth, blasting out the back of its skull. The creature convulsed midair and slammed into the ground, twitching before going still.
One down.
The other one limped toward him, dragging its mangled leg, hissing like steam escaping a vent. Felix raised his bow, but his hand shook. He only had a handful of arrows left. His thigh throbbed with every heartbeat, his sleeve was slick with blood, and the mist carried more shadows slinking closer.
His threads flickered, strained from overuse, but he forced them outward again—five pale strands whipping like ghostly whips through the fog.
The second abomination pounced, but this time Felix was ready. Threads seized its limbs mid-air, snapping tight, holding it in place for a split second. Just long enough.
Felix drew and fired.
The arrow drove through its eye socket, pinning its head against the bark of a tree. The monster twitched, claws raking the air uselessly before it went limp, dangling like a grotesque trophy.
Felix panted, stumbling back. His arms trembled. His vision blurred.
And then the mist roared with more screams.
Shapes—three, maybe four—slithered along the trees. Hungry. Drawn by blood.
Felix's jaw tightened. He tore another arrow from his quiver, setting it to the string. He wanted to collapse, but collapse meant death.
He muttered to himself, voice low, a half-snarl, half-prayer:
"Not today. Not like this."
The red forest shivered as the next wave came.
Felix sent his threads out again, weaving them through the mist, hooking each stray arrow still lodged in bark and bone. One by one, they yanked free and zipped back into his quiver. He exhaled sharply, chest heaving, and looked toward the shadows circling in the distance.
More of the abominations were closing in. Their screeches rose and fell in the crimson forest, echoing like a chorus of broken horns.
"Damn it," Felix muttered. His pulse hammered in his ears. "What can I do? Run? No… not faster than them."
The ground trembled with their approach, the red leaves shivering down like rain.
Think, Felix. Think.
His gaze snapped back to the cliff. He swallowed hard. The plan was reckless, stupid even, but better than being ripped apart piece by piece.
He tightened his grip on his knife, threads lashing around the hilt like coiled serpents. His bow slid onto his shoulder as he drew a steadying breath.
"Alright… guess we're doing this."
The screeches grew louder, the shapes in the mist finally breaking into view. They were coming fast, faster than his breath could keep pace.
Felix sprinted. His boots pounded against the earth, threads trailing behind him like silver streaks. The edge of the cliff rushed up to meet him, the abyss below yawning wide, its depths veiled by fog.
With one last push, he hurled himself into the void.
For a split second, there was only silence. The wind howled past him, carrying the stench of blood and rot from the horde above.
Felix ripped his arm forward, threads snapping the dagger loose from his grip and flinging it toward the cliff face. The blade spun once before biting deep into the grey stone with a metallic clang.
"Come on, come on!" Felix shouted, yanking hard.
The threads went taut, dragging him sideways mid-fall. His shoulder nearly dislocated from the pull, his body slamming against the cliffside hard enough to rattle his bones. He gritted his teeth and latched on, one hand gripping the hilt, the other clawing for purchase on the rough stone.
For a moment, he dangled there, legs kicking against empty air.
Above, the abominations gathered at the cliff's edge, screeching and shrieking, their faceless maws snapping in frustration. They clawed at the dirt, some even skittering dangerously close to the drop, but none leapt. Not yet.
Felix pressed himself flat against the cliff, heart slamming against his ribs. His knuckles whitened on the dagger's handle, threads still wrapped tight around it. He dared not breathe too loud.
"Great plan, Felix," he whispered to himself, voice shaking. "Nearly killed yourself… but hey, at least you bought a minute."
The shrieks above grew restless. Rocks tumbled past him, dislodged by the beasts pacing at the ledge.
And then—silence.
Felix let out a sigh of relief.
Now… he just had to… make his way down.
"Fantastic."