An hour passed.
The sky above us remained cracked — like a shattered mirror suspended over the world.
The crimson moon kept bleeding quietly in the distance, spilling light like a wound that refused to clot.
The surrounding forest didn't get any nicer either.
We were moving deeper into the woods now.
And the further we walked, the more claustrophobic the overgrowth became. It was all just a suffocating tangle of vines, towering trees, and massive ferns.
The air was so thick with moisture and spores that every breath I took felt like sipping rot.
Moreover, the ancient trees looming above us didn't look like anything natural.
They looked like something older — something eldritch and titanic. Their bark was lined with deep scars and phosphorescent fungi that glowed faintly under the red light of the moon, like veins beneath diseased skin.
And as for my company?
Well.
Let's just say I was less than thrilled.
