—Chirp... chirp... chirp...—
The soft, persistent chirping echoed through the thick fog, a strange melody both distant and impossibly close. Kyle's empty eyes fluttered open, heavy and unfocused. The cold, damp earth pressed against his skin, sending a chill through his body. His head was no longer resting on the guillotine's wooden block.
Above him, the sky swirled with thick, gray clouds, blotting out the sun and casting the world in muted twilight. Around him, ancient trees stretched their twisted branches into the mist, their silhouettes ghostly yet oddly familiar.
—chirp, chirp, chirp—
The chirping continued—clear, melodic, yet hauntingly hollow. Kyle's gaze darted through the fog, searching for its source, but no birds took flight. No rustle betrayed any small animals. The eerie sound seemed to float in the air itself, as if the forest whispered a song meant only for him.
Where... am i? The question echoed in his mind, strange and unsettling. His limbs ached with unfamiliar weakness, but he was alive—or something like it.
He pushed himself up, the damp moss cold beneath his hands. Slowly, Kyle brushed off the dust and dirt clinging stubbornly to his weathered leather clothes. The fabric was rough against his fingers, worn from countless battles and harsh days, now mottled with earth and grime.
His eyes flicked around, scanning every shadowed corner of the fog-shrouded forest. The trees were old and twisted, their branches reaching up into the heavy gray sky. Thick fog curled around his feet, hiding uneven ground and tangled roots that could easily trip him if he wasn't careful.
A chill breeze whispered through the leaves—Whooo…—carrying the faint scent of damp earth and something metallic—like old blood or rusted iron—a smell that clung to the back of his throat.
Chirp…
…chirp…
…chirp…
The eerie calls pierced the silence—too slow, too spaced. A haunting melody that seemed both distant and unnervingly close, as if the forest itself was drawing him in.
Chirp...
Then, silence again.
No bird or creature revealed itself. Just the swirling fog, thick and damp against his skin, and that metallic tang that lingered, making his stomach churn.
Kyle took a tentative step, his boots sinking slightly into the soft earth. The fog pressed in around him, blurring the edges of the world, making it hard to see more than a few feet in any direction. He reached out, fingers brushing against rough bark, cold and slick with moisture.
Everything felt wrong. The silence, the fog, the unsettling chirping—it was as if this place was deliberately disorienting. It was like the place wanted to mess with his mind, making everything feel strange and unfamiliar.
He swallowed, the metallic taste in his mouth growing stronger. Where am I? The question echoed in his mind. Is this… The Apathy?
But no—if this were truly The Apathy, then he shouldn't be feeling anything at all. No confusion, no fear, no ache.
The Apathy was said to be a place beyond torment—a cosmic nirvana where the self dissolves into endless stillness. A soul-death where identity fades away, leaving only eternal peace and unity.
Yet here he was, feeling everything—uncertainty, pain, and a strange spark of hope. This was not The Apathy. This was something else entirely.
"HAH... HAH..." His breath came heavy and slow. Why does everything feel so slow? His head throbbed, and his body ached—no, it felt weird, like something inside him was shifting.
CHIRP... CHIRP... CHIRP...
The chirping grew louder and louder, each sharp note amplifying the pounding pain in his skull. It was nauseating.
Kyle pressed a hand to his temple, trying to steady himself. "Ah... hah... urgh..." He groaned, collapsing onto all fours onto the soft, damp earth.
Then, suddenly, it stopped.
"HAH... HAH... HUF..." He sighed in relief and pushed himself back up, brushing the soft dirt off his elbows and knees.
Rustle... rustle...
His gaze snapped toward a bush that had just begun to move. He definitely sensed something strange, there an awful stench of killing intent. Raising his hands in front of him, Kyle concentrated hard, trying to summon a thunderbolt with magic—but… nothing happened.
Wait, something's wrong. After that weird sensation in his body disappeared, his mana felt strange… It felt like his, but at the same time, it wasn't. It squirmed like it was alive, weird and hard to grasp. Beyond that, he couldn't use it like normal mana.
"Hah," he exhaled sharply, breath shallow and uneven. The bush rustled again, but he knew better—this wasn't any ordinary animal, or anything close to one at all. His senses screamed at the foul stench of killing intent it gave off. It was like a demon, but not quite the same. Kyle glanced down at the ground, searching for a stone to throw.
His fingers closed around a jagged rock, rough and cold. He weighed it in his hand, then drew back and hurled it at the bush with all his strength.
—SKREEEEE-CHHHH—
The creature burst forth, its twisted form emerging from the shadows with a deafening screech that echoed through the fog-shrouded forest. It looked like a grotesque, bloated caterpillar—its segmented body mottled with patches of decaying flesh. Jagged human limbs jutted out at odd angles, twitching and grasping like broken puppets. A pale, cracked face was pressed into its front, eyes missing but replaced by writhing tentacles, each tipped with a staring, unblinking eyeball.
—GRRK-SHHLP—SLLLK-THMP—
Its movements were jerky and unnatural, dragging itself forward with a sickening wet sound that made Kyle's stomach twist. It was a sight to behold. As it got closer, he didn't hesitate, Kyle's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword—except it wasn't there. His fingers closed on empty air. The realization hit him like a cold wave: he had no weapon, And so he had no other choice.
His hands shot out, grabbing one of the long, writhing worm-like tendrils sprouting from its cracked face. The slimy appendage pulsed and squirmed violently in his grip.
—SPLORCH—
A wet, sickening pop echoed as he ripped it free. The creature let out a guttural, gurgling scream—GRRRAAAHHH—that reverberated through the fog.
Without breaking his grip, Kyle seized another tendril.
—SPLAT-SPLAT—
He tore it out with brutal force. The creature thrashed wildly, limbs flailing in a grotesque dance of agony.
—SHLORP—SHKRAK—
He grabbed handfuls of its decaying flesh, pulling and twisting, tearing it apart piece by piece.
Its jerky, unnatural movements slowed, then stopped altogether as he crushed its head between his palms.
—CRACK-CRUNCH—
Fragile bones snapped beneath his fingers.
Blood and viscera splattered across his skin, the metallic tang sharp on his tongue.
His breath was steady, his mind clear—he felt nothing. The creature was dead. Kyle wiped the grime from his hands on the mossy boulder, and stared at the corpse once more. A strange sensation washed over him; it pulsed with the same unfamiliar mana now coursing through his own body.
He looked around, sharpening his senses for any trace of movement in the fog—rustle… creak… drip…—but nothing stirred. No more creatures lurked nearby, at least for now.
Kyle lifted his hands, palms upturned, and focused on the squirming mana coiled deep within him. Breathe. Control it. Manifest something. But the mana writhed in discord like a trapped serpent, thrashing against his will.
—Sigh—
"It's no use," he muttered, letting his hands fall to his sides. The forest stretched endlessly in every direction—twisted trees, suffocating fog, and that damned chirping that never truly faded.
He chose a direction at random and walked.
—Crunch… squelch… crunch…—
His boots sank into the damp earth, each step sluggish, as if the ground itself resisted his passage. The fog clung to him like a second skin, cold and clammy, while the metallic stench of decay grew stronger with every breath.
Chirp...
Chirp...
Chirp...
The sound taunted him, always just out of sight. He ignored it, focusing instead on the uneven terrain. Gnarled roots snaked across the forest floor, threatening to trip him. Moss-coated boulders loomed suddenly from the mist, forcing him to veer sideways.
Hours passed—or minutes? Time blurred here. The sky remained a stagnant gray, the trees identical in their grotesque twists. His throat burned with thirst, but he pressed on.
Along the way, Kyle came across creatures similar to the last—wolves and bears with grotesquely distorted human faces, their mouths twisting in unnatural ways as they let out human-like screams. Long, worm-like parasites writhed from their backs, pulsating with sickly life. Other horrors lurked too: twisted forms that defied description, each more nightmarish than the last.
Just like before, he killed them with his bare hands—tearing, crushing, ripping. His hands slick with blood and grime, he no longer bothered wiping them on the mossy ground. Though the stench was growing unbearable, clinging to him like a second skin.
The number of monsters kept increasing, their attacks growing more desperate, their forms more warped and twisted. It was as if the forest itself was trying to wear him down. Though Kyle couldn't wield the strange mana coursing through his body, it still functioned like stored energy—the same force that had sustained him for long stretches back on the battlefield. Even with the accumulated fatigue, it kept him moving, kept him alive.
Bloop… glurp… splrrrch…
As he moved through the fog and twisted dead trees, a strange sound caught his attention nearby. He veered toward it cautiously, pushing aside the brushes and brittle branches. There, winding through the forest like a pool of darkness, was a swamp—but unlike any he'd ever seen, it was full of toxic bog.
The liquid was thick and heavy, a deep, unnatural shade that seemed to swallow the weak light. It pulsed slowly, as if alive, and from beneath its surface came gurgling noises and bubbles that broke the eerie silence.
"No." Kyle took a step back, the metallic tang in the air growing stronger. Something definitely lurked beneath that murky flow. It was full of the same mana that coursed through those monsters—and his own body. Its better to keep my distance and not waste my time on such things. He stepped back and turned away, heading in another direction.
He plunged deeper into the forest, the twisted trees closing in like silent sentinels. The fog thickened, swallowing the path behind him and erasing any trace of where he had come from. Every step grew heavier, the damp earth clinging to his worn leather boots like a relentless weight.
The monsters kept coming—again and again. Sigh. It was exhausting. Not because he was running out of stamina—he could fight and run all day if he had to—but because of the maddening repetition. The endless cycle of moving, stopping, and tearing these things apart with his bare hands, their rotten blood splashing across his leather gear.
He'd grown used to the stench of decay, but that didn't make it any less annoying. Determined, Kyle pressed forward through the fog and twisted trees, his boots sinking into the damp earth with every sluggish step.
At first, the path seemed straightforward—gnarled roots and moss-covered stones guiding his way. But soon, a strange sensation crept over him: a gnawing feeling of déjà vu, as if he had walked this very stretch before. He paused, scanning the fog-shrouded forest around him. The same twisted trees loomed, their skeletal branches clawing at the gray sky. The same thick fog curled around his feet, swallowing the ground.
chirp... chirp.... chirp-
Kyle frowned, annoyed at the maddening chirping. He took a careful step forward, then another. The eerie calls resumed, faint but persistent.
As he moved, subtle changes unsettled him. "what..." A tree that had stood to his left moments ago was now to his right. A bloodied, moss-covered boulder—the very one he had wiped the monster's blood on—loomed suddenly ahead, its surface slick with dampness. Yet, the corpse was nowhere to be found.
The path beneath his boots felt hauntingly familiar, as if the forest itself looped him back to the same place, like a shifting maze.
"You got to be kidding me" Kyle shook his head, frustration tightening his jaw. "Hah... my experience isn't going to help me with this, not because I always get lost or anything," he muttered bitterly.
Kyle fixed his gaze on a direction where the forest grew thicker, the shadows deeper and the fog denser. But before moving on, he glanced back at the bloodied, moss-covered boulder. He wiped the blood from his hands against its damp surface. Though the smell lingered, the wet, sticky residue felt less uncomfortable.
Without hesitation, he plunged straight into the gloom.
The fog enfolded him like a living shroud, swallowing the trees and muffling the distant chirping into a ghostly silence. With every step, his boots sank into the damp earth, cold and unyielding beneath him. Yet Kyle pressed forward, senses sharpened, eyes scanning for any sign of change—any hint of escape from this bizarre forest.
Kyle moved deeper into the thickening forest, the dense fog wrapping around him like a living veil, making each breath slightly heavier and more labored. The chirping faded into a distant echo, swallowed by the mist that clung to every branch and leaf. With every step sinking into the cold, damp earth, he pressed onward—eyes sharp and alert for any sign of change or escape.
"Oh, why does this place seem…different?" Kyle muttered, his brow furrowing in thought. "Like this part of the forest isn't swarming with grotesque creatures? More than that... there seems to be no monsters at all."
"…snf… ngh… hic…"
As I pressed forward, a sudden sound of sobbing echoed softly at my side, breaking the heavy silence of the forest. "Is this another type of those chirping sounds but this time a sobbing girl?" It felt strange—human sobs in a dark, twisted forest? "Yeah right... but why do feel like i should follow it? Am i stupid?". I looked around, trying to find the source, but the thick fog blurred everything into a gray haze.
"Hhnk… hic… nghh…"
The sobbing came again, fragile and desperate, drawing me closer to a cluster of twisted trees shrouded in mist. As I stepped cautiously forward, in my surprise a dim, flickering light revealed a girl huddling on her knees sobbing on the damp forest floor.