And as he did, the sun started to set as the nighttime started to roll in faster than anyone expected.
Ethan didn't notice it all at once. It wasn't a sudden drop in light, but a quiet, creeping dimness that thickened around the trees, like a slow breath being held.
The mist didn't fade—it deepened, folding into itself, wrapping low along the roots and clinging to trunks that had once seemed normal.
He stayed crouched on the rise, watching it move. At first, it looked like fog just rolling through the forest the way it always had.
But then he realized it wasn't moving with the wind. It wasn't even drifting. It was crawling sideways, inch by inch, as if it had gained weight.
The birds were gone.
The bugs were gone.
Even the trees had gone still in a way that didn't feel natural—no swaying branches. No rustling. Just silence thick enough to press against the skin.
Ethan rose slowly, one hand resting near his blade as his eyes scanned the shapes between trees.
