The world disappeared.
For a fraction of a second Zeven felt nothing.
No ground.
No air.
No sound.
Nothing.
Then reality returned.
Cold wind struck his face.
His boots landed heavily against stone.
Thud.
The impact echoed beneath him.
For a moment his vision blurred.
Colors twisted.
The world spun.
Then everything stabilized.
Zeven immediately took a step backward.
His hand instinctively moved toward his chest.
Breathing.
Fast.
Heavy.
Real.
Very real.
Around him similar reactions appeared.
Dak almost fell.
Ozias grabbed his shoulder.
Kael stared at the sky.
Matthew remained frozen.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody could.
Because above them...
Three moons watched the world.
One silver.
One crimson.
One dark blue.
Even though dawn approached.
Even though sunlight painted the horizon.
The moons remained visible.
Huge.
Ancient.
Impossible.
Dak finally found his voice.
"What the fuck..."
Nobody corrected him.
Because everyone felt exactly the same.
Zeven slowly looked around.
The platform beneath them stretched for hundreds of meters.
Ancient black stone.
Covered in symbols.
Thousands of people stood upon it.
Not soldiers.
Not warriors.
Candidates.
Boys.
Girls.
Some younger than them.
Some older.
All looking equally lost.
Some cried openly.
Others laughed nervously.
A few simply stared into the distance.
Trying to understand what they were seeing.
The realization struck Zeven.
These people had all left Earth.
Just like them.
Thousands.
Maybe tens of thousands.
And suddenly...
He felt very small.
The road never seemed to end.
Hours had passed since dawn.
The endless flow of candidates continued moving toward Varkas like a river.
Thousands of people.
Thousands of footsteps.
Thousands of futures.
Yet nobody looked excited anymore.
The first wonder of arriving in another world had begun to fade.
Now reality was settling in.
The road was exhausting.
The air was colder than expected.
The landscape felt wrong.
Not ugly.
Not beautiful.
Simply unfamiliar.
Every tree seemed older.
Every shadow seemed darker.
Every distant mountain seemed impossibly large.
Even the silence felt different.
Dak was the first to complain.
"My feet hurt."
Nobody answered.
Five minutes later:
"My legs hurt."
Still nobody answered.
Ten minutes later:
"I'm dying."
Ozias finally looked at him.
"You've been walking for four hours."
"Exactly."
"You're pathetic."
"I know."
Dak sighed dramatically.
"I miss Earth."
That made everyone quiet.
Because for the first time...
They all did.
The road eventually climbed a long hill.
When they reached the top, the landscape opened before them.
Zeven stopped.
Thousands of candidates were visible below.
The road stretched like a scar across the land.
Forests.
Rivers.
Ruins.
Watchtowers.
Villages.
Everything spread across the horizon.
And far away...
Varkas.
Still impossibly distant.
Still enormous.
The city seemed to watch them.
Waiting.
As they descended the hill, Zeven noticed something strange.
A boy walking alone.
Not unusual.
Except for one thing.
Nobody approached him.
Nobody walked near him.
People actually moved away from him.
As if avoiding him.
The boy couldn't have been older than sixteen.
Black hair.
Thin.
Quiet.
Yet his gaze felt unsettling.
Cold.
Empty.
Like somebody much older looked through those eyes.
Dak noticed him too.
"Creepy."
Matthew nodded.
The boy looked toward them.
For a brief second.
Then continued walking.
Nothing happened.
Yet Zeven felt uncomfortable.
Very uncomfortable.
Near midday they stopped beside a checkpoint.
A stone fortress built directly into the road.
Hundreds of candidates rested there.
Soldiers guarded the walls.
Real soldiers.
Not academy students.
Veterans.
Men and women carrying scars.
People who had survived battles.
Every single one radiated more Nexis than the boys.
Much more.
Even Kael noticed.
"We're weak."
Matthew looked toward the soldiers.
Then nodded.
"Very."
The realization hurt.
Months of training.
Months of struggle.
And yet these guards could probably defeat all five of them.
At once.
A disturbance suddenly broke the calm.
Shouting.
A candidate.
A young man.
Maybe eighteen.
He was arguing with one of the guards.
"No."
The candidate pointed back toward the road.
"I changed my mind."
Nobody laughed.
Nobody mocked him.
Because everyone understood.
Fear.
The guard remained calm.
"You wish to return?"
"Yes."
"Then return."
The candidate looked relieved.
Without another word he left the checkpoint.
Walking away from Varkas.
Walking back toward the wilderness.
Toward freedom.
Toward home.
At least...
That was what everyone thought.
Until the screaming started.
The scream came from the forest.
Far away.
But loud enough.
Everyone froze.
The candidate's scream continued.
Then another.
Then silence.
Absolute silence.
The soldiers didn't move.
The candidates didn't move.
Nobody said anything.
A woman near Zeven covered her mouth.
A boy began trembling.
Dak slowly looked toward the forest.
"What..."
No answer came.
One of the guards finally spoke.
"The road is protected."
His eyes remained fixed on the trees.
"The world is not."
Silence followed.
Cold.
Heavy.
Terrifying.
Nobody mentioned going home again.
The journey resumed.
Yet everything felt different now.
The fear was real.
The danger was real.
Nythara was real.
And somewhere beyond the trees...
Something was watching.
Something hungry.
Something patient.
Waiting for people foolish enough to leave the road.
As evening approached, the shadows grew longer.
And for the first time since arriving in Nythara...
Zeven felt eyes upon him.
Not human eyes.
Something else.
Something hidden within the dark forest.
Watching him.
Watching all of them.
Waiting.
The road remained silent.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
The man's screams had stopped.
Not faded.
Stopped.
As if something had ripped them away.
The forest stood motionless beyond the road.
Dark.
Ancient.
Watching.
A cold wind passed through the trees.
Then came a sound.
Crunch.
A branch breaking somewhere deep inside the darkness.
Everyone turned.
Nothing.
Only black trunks and tangled shadows.
Then another sound.
Wet.
Slow.
Like something tearing meat.
Several candidates looked away.
Others stared harder.
Unable to stop themselves.
A young boy near the back vomited.
Nobody laughed.
Nobody mocked him.
Because everyone could hear it.
The chewing.
Somewhere inside the forest.
The guards remained expressionless.
As if they had heard it a thousand times before.
Then...
A hand fell from the darkness.
It landed a few meters beyond the road.
A human hand.
Still wearing the same silver ring the candidate had been wearing moments earlier.
Several people screamed.
One woman collapsed.
The forest became silent again.
No chewing.
No movement.
Nothing.
Only the severed hand lying in the dirt.
A guard walked forward.
Picked it up.
Looked at it.
Then threw it back into the trees.
The darkness swallowed it immediately.
No one asked why.
No one wanted the answer.
The guard returned to his post.
"Keep moving."
His voice was calm.
Almost bored.
The candidates obeyed instantly.
Nobody wanted to remain there.
Nobody wanted to look at the forest anymore.
Yet Zeven couldn't stop himself.
He glanced back one last time.
And for a moment...
He thought he saw faces.
Dozens of them.
Pale.
Motionless.
Peering from behind the trees.
Not human.
Not animal.
Just shapes wearing something that resembled faces.
Watching the road.
Watching the living.
Waiting.
Then he blinked.
And they were gone.
Only darkness remained.
But a single thought settled deep inside Zeven's mind.
The man hadn't been killed because he left the road.
The man had been taken because something in the forest had been waiting for someone to leave it.