Our steps were steady as we entered the woods. Aside from the rhythmic sound of footsteps on the ground covered in dry leaves, the only thing you could hear was the whisper of the wind cutting through the thick fog, making the leaves gently sway on the twisted branches.
We saw no sign of life — neither animals nor people. And to be honest, considering what happened in our last encounter with other humans, I still don't know if that's a relief or not.
At that moment, only Justin, Oliver, Ethan, and Alice were present. Noa was absent, carefully scouting the surroundings looking for something or someone. The idea of sending Noa ahead mainly came from me.
Honestly, wandering aimlessly through the dense forest would probably be worse than staying still. Of course, I basically just led the group along the most obvious trail — if I tried any alternative route, I'd certainly get lost in that vast greenery, especially with the thick fog surrounding the whole area.
While watching the unsettling woodland scene through my right eye, carefully supporting Ethan, my left eye — seeing through Noa's point of view — focused on something on the ground: footprints. Since coming out of that underground tunnel, it was the first time I saw such clear and distinct traces.
The irony wasn't lost on me: being surrounded by nature, in a dense forest, and only now noticing footprints in the soft, damp soil. The tracks looked fresh, like someone or something had passed by recently, leaving a silent, mysterious trail that contrasted with the oppressive silence around us.
Anyway, looking at the footprint, I quickly came to a conclusion: that mark couldn't have been left by a human. It was huge, impressive — big enough for anyone to easily spot it in the soft soil. The front part of the footprint was wide, oval-shaped, almost the size of a regular frying pan.
Five well-defined, rounded toes spread out in an almost perfect curve, as if pressed firmly into the ground. In front of them, deep grooves tore the earth, indicating long, curved claws, sharp as natural blades. Nothing about those marks resembled a dog. Not even a wild boar.
I knelt slowly, cautiously bringing my hand closer. I didn't touch it — not yet. I just observed, feeling the tension in the air around me. Behind it, a bit further away, was the hind paw print. That one was even more impressive. Long and well-defined, it had the unmistakable shape of a foot — a colossal foot, as if a giant, furry creature had passed by barefoot.
The plantar pad was clearly marked, and the toes looked straighter, aligned, almost human-like. But again, those sharp, threatening claws appeared at the front — a clear and dangerous signature. The silence around felt heavier as I watched. It didn't take long for the thought about the creature responsible for those huge marks to arise in my mind, as natural and inevitable as breathing.
(A bear) I thought, my eyes scanning the freshly imprinted footprints on the damp earth.
But even recognizing those tracks as belonging to a bear, something about them just didn't fit. The reason was clear and unsettling: I'd seen bears before — both brown and polar — after all, I've always had a habit of visiting zoos and museums.
I knew well the shape and size of their footprints. However, the marks pressed into the ground in front of me were different, frighteningly larger. They were at least twice the size of a polar bear's footprint.
As far as I know, polar bears — the largest land carnivores — can reach up to ten feet in length. But considering the impressive size of that footprint, it's likely the creature that left it is at least twice that size.
Still, it wasn't the size that made me sharpen my attention. What really caught my eye was the unsettling fact that those footprints just vanished, ending inside a dark, silent cave.
At first, I just followed the footprints, curious to see where they would lead. I admit I didn't expect them to end in a cave. To be honest, I'd rather avoid anything that left those marks, but curiosity — or maybe necessity — pushed me to keep going.
As these thoughts crossed my mind, something cold suddenly dropped on my head. I looked up, eyes fixed on the cave ceiling, and I could see, with a mix of surprise and discomfort, a single drop of water slowly sliding down to land on my forehead.
I squinted gently, my bangs falling over part of my vision, still trying to get used to Noa's long hair, which felt strange and new: "Anyway" I said with a light sigh: "doesn't seem like we have a choice. I didn't find any other place that could serve as shelter, not even temporarily. We urgently need somewhere to settle"
"Here, where there are no medicines, it would be terrible news if any of us caught a cold. Although, to be honest, I'm not sure that's even possible with our bodies now" I murmured, with a hint of unease: "But I definitely don't want to be the one to put that theory to the test"
With those words, I slowly stood up and spun on my heels, heading back to the group. Anyway, it would be weird to explain to the others that I found a cave using my male body, Justin, especially since I hadn't left them since the moment we took care of those people. On the way back, as my female form moved back toward the group, my mind returned to the male body.
More precisely, I was staring at the skill acquisition screen that appeared before me. I had finally reached level 21, which gave me the right to choose a new skill.
However, most of the options seemed pretty useless for my current situation. Personally, I don't see the need for a skill focused on direct combat — after all, that's not even my role. So this time, only two skills really caught my attention.
[Sense Hostility (Common)] – You've developed a sharp intuition to detect hostile intentions directed at you. When someone within a 10-meter radius intends to attack you, your body reacts instinctively: your mind goes on high alert and your perception briefly sharpens, revealing the direction and intensity of the threat. It doesn't work against enemies who can perfectly hide their emotions or intentions.
[Hunter's Mark (Common)] – When you focus your attention on a single enemy, you silently mark them as your target. While the mark is active, you gain +35 Strength and can track them accurately, even through light obstacles or fog. Only one enemy can be marked at a time.
Honestly, my first choice would definitely be [Hunter's Mark]. The reason is almost self-explanatory — just read the skill description to understand. However, I don't feel like this is the right time to use it. Maybe it's because of the intense experience I just went through. I mean... at some point, it's going to be inevitable: we'll end up encountering other people.
Besides, I believe that eventually, we'll have to recruit others. Actually, I don't see any reason to avoid it — quite the opposite, I see it as an advantage. Still, it's important to think of some kind of defense, a countermeasure, to prevent malicious people from infiltrating us.
That's exactly why I chose the [Sense Hostility] skill. Honestly, it's ironic that such a convenient skill for my current situation is being granted just like that, for free.
Anyway, I didn't have to think twice before choosing — I just took it. From what I've noticed, some skills repeat at higher levels, so chances are the opportunity to get [Hunter's Mark] will come up again. And, well... if it doesn't, oh well. In the end, it's not like there's anything I can do about it.
I kept carrying Ethan with Oliver's help. His steps were heavy, and blood was still trickling from a cut on his leg. Amid the silent effort, Ethan's weak voice broke the air: "Sorry about this... If I'd been more careful back there, I probably wouldn't be this hurt"
I glanced briefly toward Ethan. His face still bore the marks of his wounds, along with an obvious fatigue weighing down his eyes. While I noticed these details, Oliver broke the silence. His voice sounded calm and composed, almost comforting: "You don't need to worry about that, man. Honestly, if it weren't for you taking those hits for me, I probably wouldn't even be here right now. The one who should be sorry is me... for not being able to help as much as I wanted"
I observed Oliver's expression, and he really seemed weighed down by guilt. Although I haven't spent much time with him yet, there's something I recently convinced myself of: Oliver is the kind of person who tends to blame himself when things go wrong — especially when it involves his closest friends.
He carries that responsibility in his eyes, like he feels he has to fix everything alone. Personally, I'm still not sure if that's a good thing or not. Maybe it's noble... or maybe it's just a burden he puts on himself.
"By the way" Oliver started, turning his gaze toward me: "thanks for saving us back there, Justin. Both you and Noa... if it weren't for you two, I don't think we'd be here now. You know what I mean"
All I did was nod, and Oliver returned a soft smile. That was the first time we talked about what happened back there. It was like an unspoken rule naturally formed — nobody wanted to bring it up, so we stayed silent about the fact that we killed people.
Even Alice, who didn't participate directly, had a significant impact on the last man I killed. And she seemed aware of it. Still, she didn't appear to carry guilt for what she did. Alice understood, like all of us, that in that situation it was a brutal choice: either them or us.
In the end, we kept walking in silence for a while longer. We were all exhausted and injured, and nobody wanted to talk more than necessary. The weight of fatigue seemed to make the air even heavier around us. After a while, a drop of water fell near where we were.
At first, most didn't even care — after all, we were in a foggy forest where it was hard to tell if the sky was clear or overcast. But as we went on, the drops started falling more frequently, creating a soft, steady sound on the leaves around us. That's when everyone finally realized: the rain was coming, and it would soon fall on us.
As we continued down the trail, I narrowed my eyes, focusing on the path ahead. A slight chill ran down my spine as I whispered cautiously: "I can feel someone approaching"
We all stopped at once, our eyes searching through the dense fog stretching out before us. I wasn't lying when I said I felt someone coming, but despite the intuition, I couldn't tell who the person was behind that white curtain.
I knew my female body should be near my male body, but the thick fog kept hiding everything beyond a few steps — and that didn't change, no matter how hard I tried to see ahead.
However, the moment we all finally identified who that person was, our shoulders visibly relaxed, and a collective sigh of relief escaped effortlessly. It was clear that we were all already exhausted after a whole day alert for other survivors, especially considering situations like the previous one could happen again at any moment.
Still, as I looked through my left eye — the same one Noa saw through — I felt a silent comfort growing inside me. That dense fog that had surrounded us before now seemed less threatening when confirming that the presences I felt ahead were, in fact, Justin and the others. After all, just like Justin, I also couldn't see anything ahead in that sea of fog while returning with Noa.