The silence in the forest was unnatural. No wind, no insects. The trees bent in illogical directions, as if something invisible were pressing against them. The group moved in a tight formation, eyes alert and breaths held. The scent of wet earth and something… rotten… filled the air.
Adam walked in front, revolver strapped to his side, Hunter's Sense fully active. His eyes scanned the environment with near-animal precision. The newly acquired ability allowed him to perceive subtle changes in heat, ground vibration, muffled sounds. But even that faltered here.
"We're close," he muttered. "Something... very wrong lies ahead."
They reached a clearing surrounded by symbols carved into the trees. In the center, a circular stone structure — like an ancient altar — lay covered in leaves and bones. At the top, a wooden eye stared back at them.
"This... this is a summoning site," Janaína whispered. "My grandmother used to talk about these. 'Where the eye sees, the king hears.' That's what she said."
"What the hell does that mean?" Thomas murmured, staring at the altar.
"It means Paimon is listening," Adam said. His voice held no emotion, but his eyes — cold as stone — were locked on the circle. "Stay completely silent."
But it was already too late.
Thomas staggered. His eyes rolled completely white.
"...he is coming... we already said yes..." he muttered, his voice distorted.
Adam reacted instantly. He drew the Cursed Revolver and aimed. Janaína screamed:
"No! Don't shoot him!"
But Thomas was already moving — far too fast — and lunging toward Érica with a ritual knife that lay near the altar. The others froze. Adam didn't.
BANG!
The shot didn't just pierce Thomas's shoulder — it exploded in golden light, followed by a scream that wasn't human. Thomas dropped to the ground, trembling and coughing blood, slowly regaining consciousness.
Adam dropped to his knees, panting hard. The shot had drained part of his life force, just as the system had warned.
"Don't ever hesitate again," he said through gritted teeth. "In here, one second of doubt will cost someone their life. This place is a nest of possession. No one touches anything. No one answers voices. No one steps out of line."
A tense silence followed.
Érica knelt beside Thomas, still shaking.
"He... he almost killed me…"
Adam looked into the others' eyes. Fear. Doubt. But also… respect. They now understood he was different.
"Who are you, Adam?" Janaína asked softly.
He didn't answer. He just stood up slowly, with effort.
"I'm someone who survived two worlds. And I won't die in this one."
A new system message echoed in his mind:
[Demonic Presence Detected Nearby]
[Status: Active – Paimon is observing the group]
The ritual hadn't ended. It had only just begun.
.....The group had retreated from the clearing after tending to Thomas's wound. His possession had left mental scars more than physical ones. They set up a temporary camp near a ruined farmhouse, half-buried under vines and decay. They needed rest — but rest wouldn't come.
Adam didn't sleep.
Instead, he used his spiritual communication ability — the one he'd gained back at Crystal Lake. Sitting cross-legged near the withered fireplace, he placed two fingers to the cold floor and whispered:
"Show me what haunts this land."
The wind hissed. And then... a voice.
"You are not welcome, but you are watched."
The whisper came from inside the walls, from the ceiling, from the bones of the house. Adam clenched his jaw. Whatever watched them was intelligent. Hungry. And ancient.
Meanwhile, Érica, still shaken, approached Janaína.
"Did you see his eyes?" she whispered. "When he shot Thomas… they were empty."
Janaína nodded, her voice low.
"I think... he's not like us. Something broke inside him in those other worlds."
But despite the fear, their curiosity grew. Adam was more than a survivor. He was a strategist, a fighter, a leader.
By morning, they resumed their journey, led again by Adam. The ruins grew more twisted, more deliberate. Doors led to nowhere. Rooms changed places. The architecture mocked sanity.
In a collapsed chapel, they encountered their first real trap: a mirror that showed their deepest regrets.
Érica was the first to scream. In the reflection, she saw herself abandoning her little brother — a memory she had buried.
Janaína sobbed at the image of her mother burning alive, blaming her.
Even Adam paused.
He saw himself… staring into the void, wearing Michael Myers' mask. Alone. Forever.
He growled and smashed the mirror with the butt of his revolver.
"Keep moving. These things feed on our guilt."
But behind them, the shards of the mirror reassembled on their own.
Something was following.
And it remembered them.