He jolted awake, gasping, water clawing at his lungs. Pain radiated everywhere—he couldn't pin it to a single spot. Coughing violently, water spilled from his mouth.
Barely alive. But alive.
With a grunt, he rolled onto shaky elbows, dragging himself upright. The bandage on his side had held—just. His clothes were soaked, his body trembling from the cold. The drain hadn't swallowed him; it had spat him out like trash.
He stumbled to his feet, breath ragged and finally took in the world around him.
The sky hung gray, heavy and low. A jagged strip of broken concrete led to the river, cracked and littered with debris. Across it, the hollow city sprawled for miles—skyscrapers leaning at impossible angles, roads ripped apart by thick, choking roots. The air reeked of rot and metal, sharp enough to sting his nose and throat.
He was out. Out of the city.
The forest on his side was grim too. To the south, it was stained crimson—the Red Forest. He pulled up the offline map on his wristband. Staying still was pointless; if he stopped now, he might not move again.
South, then. He pulled his board from the pack. Standing on it, he powered it up. The motor buzzed to life. Securing himself, he shot forward.
Hours later, he hovered just above the tree line, conserving battery, scanning the broken city below. Red vines had swallowed everything, leaving only skeletal trees behind. As the Night pressed in; the sky darkened. A flashlight was out of the question—it would draw predators.
Through the overgrowth, a tall silhouette caught his eye. An ancient building had survived the tide of time, its walls strangled in red vines. He dropped down silently.
The stairway groaned under his weight as he climbed, gripping the cracked railing. At the peak, inside the ruined sanctum, a black stone idol watched him: Shani Dev, seated above his throne, eyes merciless. Oil lamps had long since gone out, yet the aura of judgment pressed down like a weight.
His gaze followed the god's line of sight. Beyond the temple doors, past the wild overgrowth, stood a single tree. Unlike the others, it had not moved, spread, or died. A colossal peepal, its branches telling the story of centuries. The temple doors framed it perfectly, as if Shani himself watched over it.
A bell hung from the lintel, swaying faintly though no wind stirred, its chime a warning: Do not step further.
He ignored it.
Drawing a shallow breath, he stepped into the open and pulled out his flight gear. A red warning blinked on his visor—battery near dead. Still, it would be enough.
Up close, the tree loomed, its roots twisted into thick, pillar-like columns, twisting together into a living cage. Rusted trinkets and red threads clung to its bark: offerings or perhaps warnings.
At last, he saw it—the heart of the tree. A fortress of twisted roots and choking branches. He landed. The ground clung to his boots. Knee-deep in muck, walking was the only choice.
Perfect, he thought grimly.
Each step was a fight. The mud clung like tar, thick enough to drown a rat. Pain flared as his bandages tore open. The ground squelched underfoot like soggy bread.
He pressed his hand to the heartroot, tracing grooves, searching for the hidden chamber.
Crunch.
He froze. Crack—closer. Something was moving. He ducked behind a rotting log, wincing as his wounds screamed.
Hand over mouth, he held his breath. A figure emerged from the tree line—a deer? At first, normal. But its eyes were gray, void, reflecting nothing but hunger.
It stepped forward with a splash. Instinct screamed: run!
Moments passed before it turned its head away. Shaal froze, realizing it couldn't see him.
He hurled a rock. The creature twitched. Its face split into a radial maw of razor-sharp teeth. It advanced toward the splash.
As soon as it looked away, Shaal sprang to his feet and continued the search, heart thundering. Crawling carefully along the heartroot, he finally found the opening. Sealed. He had to reopen it—careful, always watching.
Crunch. Close. He froze again. This time, he knew exactly who it was.
This was the only way.
Shaal slowly took out his hoverboard. It was his last chance to turn back, though it still showed a red light. Turning it on, he aimed it at the farthest tree he could manage and sent it shooting forward.
The deer followed it.
This should buy at least a few minutes.
He quickly placed both hands on the bark. Light flared beneath his fingers.
Boom.
The bark splintered. Inside was a hollow, crawling with spiders and their eggs.
Crunching sounds grew louder.
"How is it back so soon?"
As Shaal turned to look back, it was just behind him, its mouth aimed at him, screaming and lunging at full speed.
He sucked in a breath and ducked inside.
As soon as he got in, the deer tried to follow him, but the opening was too small, and the branches began to slowly close. It tried a few more times but failed, eventually giving up.
"This couldn't get any worse," he muttered.
The air was thick with mold, dust, and webs.
"Thank God for the gas mask."
The cave was nearly black now, the last sliver of light shrinking behind him.
He coughed into the filter, staggered, and dropped to his knees. Blood seeped from his wounds. His head felt stuffed with wet cotton. He had to keep going—had to go down there. Archis was suffering.
He had to move.
He blinked slowly, the fog lifting just enough to see faint veins of bioluminescence crawling along the wall like veins of gold. It was Weller's fungus. Strictly regulated. Only soldiers were allowed to use it. Of course, it had found its way underground drug trade.
He didn't hesitate.
He gathered what strength he could, reached for it, and ate it straight off the wall. Way more than the prescribed amount.
"Hopefully I won't be dead before reaching there."
Minutes crawled by. The haze lifted just enough for him to sit up. He fished out a flashlight, hands still trembling.
Leaning against the bark, he stood. The tunnel sloped steeply downward—not a slide, thankfully. Using the wall for balance, he began his descent. This place hadn't been touched in years.
Spiders skittered across the walls. He avoided their eggs.
Out of breath and aching, Shaal muttered, "If someone told me I'd be doing this... I would've laughed in their face."