The forest was silent.
Too silent.
No rustling leaves. No chirping insects. Not even the whisper of wind. Only the faint crackle of corrupted energy hung in the air — a haze of black mist rising from the ground where Kael had fallen moments ago.
Lira knelt beside the charred earth, trembling hands gripping her staff. Her voice was a whisper, breaking apart between breaths.
> "He was… right there. I could've—"
"Lira." Arlen's voice was low but steady, though his hands shook too. "Don't. We can't stay here."
He glanced toward the gaping fissure where the shadowed figure had emerged. It was gone now — or perhaps just watching. He could feel it. The air carried weight, as if something unseen was staring into his soul.
> You cannot escape yourself, Frost…
The words echoed in his head again, though the voice was faint now, fading with the mist.
Arlen turned to Ryn, who had bolted the moment Kael fell. She was gone — vanished into the trees. For a moment, he thought she might've made it out. But then… a scream tore through the silence. Short. Piercing. Then nothing.
He didn't need to check. He already knew.
---
They buried what was left — two small graves marked with broken weapons.
It was all they could do.
By nightfall, they had built a small shelter using the remains of a broken transport pod. The fire they lit glowed faint blue, its light barely pushing back the surrounding darkness.
Lira sat by the fire, her knees drawn to her chest, staring at the flames.
Arlen sat opposite her, sharpening his blade in silence. Every scrape of steel against steel echoed sharply in the still air.
> "We shouldn't have split up," she whispered, voice trembling.
"They didn't listen," Arlen replied quietly. "Kael wanted to prove himself. Ryn panicked. There was nothing we could've done."
Lira's eyes glistened, reflecting the flames. "Still… they trusted us."
Arlen looked up, his icy-blue eyes flickering faintly with the firelight. "Then we make sure they didn't die for nothing."
---
Hours passed. The forest stayed dead quiet.
Until suddenly, the blue fire bent — its light flickering backward, as if pulled by an unseen force.
Arlen rose instantly, hand on his sword. The System pulsed faintly across his wrist.
> [Warning: Unknown Energy Source Detected — 42 meters.]
> "Lira, stay close," he said, scanning the darkness.
Something moved between the trees. Not fast. Not loud. But wrong — like the shadows themselves were alive.
Then, a voice — distorted and echoing — slithered through the air.
> "So this is what you've become… The divine who lost himself among mortals."
Arlen froze.
The voice felt familiar — like a whisper from another lifetime. His pulse quickened, breath catching.
> "Who's there?" he demanded. "Show yourself!"
The figure stepped out — humanoid, but cloaked in writhing black mist. Its eyes glowed pale white beneath a hood of shadows. Thin chains trailed from its wrists, scraping against the ground.
Lira stumbled back. "Arlen… what is that?"
Arlen didn't answer. Every instinct screamed danger.
> "You are incomplete," the voice continued, low and rumbling. "Fragments scattered, divinity sealed. You cannot fight what you have forgotten."
> "What the hell are you talking about?" Arlen hissed, summoning energy. Blue light flared around him, the frost beneath his boots crystallizing. "If you want a fight—"
The figure vanished.
A blink later, Arlen was flung backward, crashing through a tree. The air rippled from the impact. He coughed blood, forcing himself to stand as the figure reappeared — mere inches from Lira.
Her staff ignited with golden light, unleashing a defensive blast. The explosion lit up the forest — but when the light cleared, the shadow was gone.
Only its voice lingered, fading into the dark.
> "Awaken… before the end comes."
---
Silence reclaimed the forest.
Lira rushed to Arlen, kneeling beside him. Blood trickled down his forehead, but his eyes burned with confusion and anger.
> "It called me a god," he muttered. "Why?"
Lira's hand trembled as she rested it on his shoulder. "Maybe… it was trying to scare us."
Arlen shook his head, eyes drifting toward the black mist crawling along the trees. "No. That thing knew me."
He clenched his fists, feeling a strange pulse deep within — the same echo that haunted his dreams, now awake and stirring.
> "Whatever it was," he said, his voice low, resolved, "it's not the last of them."
The forest wind returned, carrying faint whispers through the leaves — whispers that spoke his name.
---