Lightning cracked across the sky, the sound tearing through the silence before the rain swallowed it again. It poured relentlessly, soaking the forest, the ground, and everything in between.
Lucas stumbled out from between the trees, his steps uneven, his body dragging itself forward more than walking. His breathing wasn't heavy, but it wasn't steady either—it felt hollow, like something inside him hadn't settled yet. His mind kept replaying the same moment, over and over again.
Left behind.
Again.
His eyes dropped slowly to his hand, blood mixing with rainwater and slipping past his fingers in thin streaks. The cut wasn't deep, but it stung enough to remind him of one thing—this time, there was no one beside him.
No voice. No healing. No Vivian.
Lucas clenched his hand slightly, then loosened it again, his expression tightening for a moment before going blank. He kept walking, slow and unstable, without any sense of direction.
Another lightning strike lit the ground for a split second, and he stopped as something caught his eye. A small herb rested between the wet grass and roots, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it. Lucas stared at it for a second longer than needed, and then a memory surfaced.
"If I'm not around, at least don't bleed out like an idiot."
His jaw tightened. "…Yeah."
He crouched down and picked the herb, then moved through the forest, collecting a few more things he remembered. His movements weren't neat, but they were familiar, his hands following what Vivian had taught him step by step without thinking too much about it. Time passed quietly, and by the end, his hand was wrapped in a rough bandage. Not clean. Not perfect. But enough.
Lucas looked at it for a moment, then stood and walked again, his steps still slow, his gaze lowered, his mind heavy with everything that had just happened. The rain blurred his vision, but he didn't bother wiping it away.
Then he bumped into something.
Lucas froze, his body going still as the sudden impact snapped him back to reality. Slowly, he raised his head, his eyes adjusting through the rain as the figure in front of him came into view. His expression changed—shock, then recognition—as his eyes widened slightly.
"…YOU—"
The three wolves moved through the forest in silence, dragging Vivian along as the trees slowly gave way to something older. The ground shifted beneath their feet, soil turning to broken stone, and soon the forest opened into a stretch of ruins filled with collapsed walls, shattered pillars, and scattered debris.
And yet, torches burned.
Placed deliberately, their flames steady against the wind, casting shifting shadows across the remains. It didn't feel abandoned—it felt occupied.
They passed through the ruins and approached a massive gateway, beyond which stood a large castle, damaged but still standing. The doors creaked open as they entered, revealing a vast hall lined with pillars and dim torchlight. At the center stood a stone table.
They threw Vivian onto it.
One of the wolves stepped forward. "Here is the lady, as per our deal. And her former squad… every one of them has been dealt with."
For a moment, nothing answered. Then a laugh echoed from the shadows, high-pitched and uneven.
"Nice work. You'll get your gold outside."
The wolves smirked and turned, their footsteps echoing as they walked out of the hall, their confidence unchanged.
They didn't make it far.
Something moved, a clean and instant motion too fast to follow. Their bodies dropped, and a second later, their heads followed. Blood spread across the floor.
"What a mess… clean it up," the voice muttered.
A few moments later, Vivian's eyes slowly opened, her vision unfocused at first before sharpening enough to take in her surroundings. Her body felt restrained, tight and unyielding, and the moment she tried to move, she felt it—the bindings didn't budge.
Her clothes had been changed, and her gear was gone.
Vivian grit her teeth and pulled against the restraints again, forcing strength into her arms, but nothing moved. It didn't even feel like rope—it felt like something holding her in place.
"You can try to get out if you want to, but know that it's impossible. I've bound it with my energy," the voice echoed lightly.
Vivian exhaled slowly, her eyes narrowing. "…Bastard. It's the same again… just like those years ago."
"Certainly…"
She stayed silent for a moment, her thoughts running beneath the surface, then asked, "Why me?"
No answer came, only small fading footsteps.
For a moment, it felt like she had been ignored. Then the voice returned.
"You broke the ritual…"
Vivian froze, not out of fear but recognition. Her body reacted instantly, pushing harder against the bindings, forcing whatever strength she had left into breaking through. A sharp metallic sound rang out, but the restraints didn't move.
"I said you can't break through that tie, you foolish girl!" the voice snapped, anger slipping through before settling again. "Well… must've felt bad, didn't it?"
A pause.
"Losing everything you once had."
Vivian didn't respond. Her struggle slowed, then stopped entirely as her focus shifted elsewhere. Her gaze moved toward the wall, landing on a painting barely visible in the darkness. She couldn't see it clearly, only the outline…
…and two glowing red eyes.
"That's what happens to those who interfere with our ritual," the voice continued, quieter now as the footsteps faded away.
Silence followed. Vivian exhaled slowly, and the past pulled her under
Four years ago.
Rain fell steadily across the road, the rhythm of horse hooves cutting through the night as the squad moved forward.
Vivian glanced sideways. "Aye, Dennis… why are you so silent?"
Dennis[1] replied in his usual deep, groggy tone, "It is nothing. I've just been in so many missions these days."
Vivian looked at him with slight surprise. "What— you do other missions than our squad?"
Dennis shrugged lightly. "Well… yeah. I do everything to help." He paused briefly. "I just wanna see my family. It has been so long."
Lightning cracked, and Vivian's eyes dropped instantly to the ground.
Blood.
"Stop."
She jumped down from her horse and walked toward a rock under a tree, crouching as she inspected it.
Fresh.
Her expression changed completely, sharp and serious in a way that didn't leave room for doubt, she drew her sword. "It's fresh. I'm going to head inside the forest, you check the path. Call out to me if there's an emergency."
Dennis nodded and continued along the path.
The moment Vivian stepped into the forest, the rain softened beneath the canopy, but the silence felt heavier, not peaceful but wrong. She followed the blood trail, faint and mostly erased by the rain, yet still enough to guide her forward as her steps slowed and her focus sharpened.
Soon the forest opened into a clearing, and Vivian stepped in before stopping completely, her body going still as her eyes took in the scene. It wasn't immediate shock—it was disbelief, like her mind was trying to reject what it was seeing.
The ground had been carved with a distorted pattern, something between a symbol and a ritual, the markings deep and deliberate. Around it were heads, placed carefully along the edges, not scattered but arranged.
That was what unsettled her.
Vivian's gaze moved slowly across the clearing, her thoughts tightening as she tried to understand it. She stepped forward slightly and crouched, inspecting the markings without touching them. She didn't recognize it fully, but something about it felt wrong in a way she couldn't ignore… familiar in the worst possible sense.
Vivian stood again.
And continued forward.
"Leader Vivian!"
Dennis's voice came from behind as he pushed through the trees, reaching her quickly. The moment she saw him, she noticed it immediately—he was shaking. "What happened?" she asked.
Dennis glanced around once before speaking, his voice lower now. "I saw something… there's a castle deeper inside. I didn't go close, but I didn't need to."
They began walking together.
"That place… it doesn't feel normal. It's like it's telling you not to come closer. Skulls, blood… heads hanging on the walls… I've never seen anything like that before."
He kept talking. But Vivian didn't respond. Not because she wasn't listening—But because she already knew.
She pushed through a cluster of bushes, branches scraping lightly against her arms as she stepped forward, then stopped completely, even without seeing her face it was clear Vivian was in deep shock.
"Dennis…" she said quietly, "Prepare the team for a mission." Dennis froze behind her. "…What?"
There was no hesitation in her tone, only certainty. He stepped forward slowly, pushing the bushes aside—And saw it. He couldn't speak, his eyes raised in shock. He took a step back… then another—before his legs gave out beneath him.
"We are all FUCKED" said Dennis.
[1] Dennis had a simple, unassuming appearance. His short, slightly messy dark hair framed a calm face, and his eyes carried a quiet focus, as if he was always thinking a step ahead. He wore a green jacket over a plain shirt with loose, comfortable pants, giving him a relaxed and easygoing look. At first glance, there was nothing particularly striking about him, yet something about his presence felt steady. Like beneath that ordinary exterior, there was a hidden strength waiting to be revealed.