"Alright," the boy said, the word feeling strangely heavy on his tongue. "I'll help you. If you can get me out of this… this place… then I'll find a way to free you."
A wave of something that felt like grim satisfaction washed over him, emanating from Wrath. "A wise decision. Though 'wise' is a relative term in this forsaken realm. Now, listen closely. My essence is… scattered, imprisoned, fragmented. I do not know the precise location of my confinement, but I can feel you. A beacon, however faint, in this suffocating darkness. The closer you get, the stronger the connection becomes."
"So, I just… walk towards you?" the boy asked, looking around the still-dense forest.
"Essentially," Wrath confirmed. "But be warned. This world is a deception. A meticulously crafted illusion designed to break the will and confound the senses. Trust nothing you see, hear, or feel. Only through trial and error, through repeated… resets… will you learn its rules."
The boy shivered, despite the newfound strength coursing through him. The idea of repeated deaths, even if temporary, was deeply unsettling.
"But, you do not go into this blind. I still possess some of my previous power. Knowledge even I don't fully understand how I have. I can assist you, tell you what to do, and what not to do"
With that, Wrath directed him. It was a vague sensation, a pull towards a specific direction, like an invisible thread tugging at his core. The boy started walking, pushing through the undergrowth, the filtered sunlight dappling his path.
As he walked, Wrath continued to speak, his voice a constant presence in his mind. He pointed out certain plants – a cluster of vibrant blue berries that, despite their appealing appearance, were deadly poisonous. A seemingly innocuous vine that, when touched, would release a cloud of spores that induced paralyzing hallucinations.
"The creators of this world," Wrath explained, his voice laced with contempt, "were masters of manipulation. They understood that the most effective prison is not one of stone and iron, but one of fear and uncertainty."
The boy listened intently, committing Wrath's warnings to memory. He learned to distinguish the subtle differences in the rustling leaves, the variations in bird song that signaled danger. He learned to trust his instincts, honed by Wrath's guidance, over his immediate perceptions.
He discovered that Wrath's knowledge was strangely… inconsistent. He could describe the intricate workings of the forest's ecosystem, the properties of its flora and fauna, with astonishing detail. He knew, for instance, that the sap of a particular tree, when mixed with crushed firefly wings, created a potent healing salve. Yet, he couldn't remember his own past, the reason for his imprisonment, or even the nature of the "God" who had created this world.
"It's as if… parts of me are missing," Wrath admitted, a rare note of vulnerability in his voice. "Erased. Or perhaps… deliberately obscured."
The boy felt a flicker of sympathy for the powerful, yet clearly damaged, entity that shared his consciousness. He still didn't fully trust Wrath, but a strange bond was forming between them, forged in shared adversity and a mutual desire for escape.
They traveled for what felt like days, the forest seemingly endless. The boy, thanks to Wrath's guidance, managed to find edible roots and fungi, supplementing the meager sustenance with the occasional small animal he was able to trap. He learned to move silently, to blend with the shadows, to become a part of the forest, even as he fought to escape it.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the trees began to thin. A sliver of open sky appeared ahead, a promise of something beyond the suffocating green. Hope, fragile but real, surged within the boy.
He quickened his pace, his heart pounding with anticipation. He could almost taste freedom, smell the fresh air, feel the sun on his skin. He broke into a run, bursting through the last line of trees…
…and skidded to a halt.
Blocking his path, standing at the very edge of the forest, was a wolf. But this was no ordinary wolf. It was immense, towering over him, its fur the color of midnight, its eyes burning with an unholy, crimson light. It was larger than any wolf had any right to be, its teeth bared in a silent snarl, its muscles coiled and tense, ready to spring.
The boy froze, his breath caught in his throat. He knew, instinctively, that this was no ordinary creature. This was a guardian, a sentinel, placed here to prevent his escape.
"A Gatekeeper," Wrath's voice hissed in his mind, filled with a mixture of anger and… respect. "A formidable obstacle. One of the many… challenges… that await us."
The wolf took a step forward, a low growl rumbling in its chest. The boy knew he couldn't fight it. Not directly. Not yet. He had to be smart. He had to use everything he had learned. He had to… think.