The forest did not forgive weakness.
It revealed it.
Slowly.
Cruelly.
Without urgency, without emotion, without hesitation—the forest exposed every mistake like a mirror that refused to lie.
Karna moved through the dense trees with careful steps.
Not as a warrior.
Not as a student of battle.
But as something more fragile.
A beginner.
A child learning the language of survival from a world that did not speak gently.
His stomach ached again.
Sharper now.
More persistent.
It was no longer a distant discomfort that could be ignored.
It had become a constant presence—reminding him of his body, of his limits, of his reality.
The water had eased his thirst earlier.
But hunger…
Remained.
Unrelenting.
Karna paused behind a thick tree trunk, pressing lightly against it as he steadied his breathing.
His eyes moved slowly across the forest ahead.
Observing.
Waiting.
Listening.
Then—
His gaze caught movement.
A small animal.
Low to the ground.
