The forest did not grow quieter.
It grew deeper.
Not in sound—but in presence.
As if every step Karna took was not just distance covered, but a descent into something older, something that had existed long before him and would continue long after.
Each step carried him further away from the world he once knew.
Further from safety.
Further from certainty.
Further from the version of life where needs were met without struggle.
The air had changed again.
It felt heavier.
Drier.
As if the forest was slowly withdrawing its generosity.
Even the wind no longer moved freely. It no longer flowed in smooth currents like before.
Instead—
It arrived in broken whispers, passing through branches unevenly, as if it too had grown tired of traveling through these depths.
Karna walked steadily.
But his body had begun to show its limits.
