The forest around the facility was silent — too silent. The kind of quiet that made even the air feel wrong.
Kael glanced at the others. "We can't stay here," he said. "This place isn't safe. The longer we wait, the closer this forest gets."
Jax gave a tired chuckle. "And go where? We've got no food, no weapons, and a bunch of half-mutated strangers who can barely walk straight."
Estell folded her arms, her tone calm but sharp. "Then we start small. We look for food first. There has to be something left in this place."
Orion nodded. "And supplies. Power cells, tools — anything that still works."
Kael turned to the group of survivors gathered behind them. They were quiet, watching him. Their faces were pale, eyes glowing faintly — touched by whatever the forest had done to them.
"Listen," Kael said. "We're not dying here. Check every room, every hallway. If it looks useful, take it. Food, water, gear — anything. Move in pairs. We meet back here before sunset."
They nodded and scattered into the ruins.
Kael's group went deeper into the facility, their footsteps echoing in the dark corridors. The walls were cracked, wires hung like vines, and the air carried a faint hum — as if the building itself still remembered being alive.
Estell brushed dust off an old sign. "Feels like this place was abandoned overnight."
"More like everyone ran for their lives," Orion said, shining his light down the hall.
They turned a corner and stopped. At the end of the corridor stood a steel door, rusted but still sealed. The faded letters above it read: "ARMORY — RESTRICTED."
Jax grinned. "Well, that's a good sign."
"Or a bad one," Estell muttered.
Kael forced the door open. The hinges screamed, and a gust of stale air rolled out. Inside, the room was lined with empty racks and cracked storage cases. But in the dim light, a few things still glimmered.
Orion stepped forward and picked up a rifle. Its surface was scorched, but the power cell flickered faintly. "Still got some life left."
Estell opened a metal crate and found sealed packs of ammunition and survival rations. "Jackpot."
Kael's gaze landed on a black case sitting alone at the far end of the room. A strange nine-line symbol was etched into its surface — the same one he'd seen carved into the trees outside. He opened it carefully.
Inside was a long, sleek weapon — part rifle, part blade — pulsing faintly with blue light.
Jax let out a low whistle. "That's new."
Kael lifted it. It was lighter than it looked, perfectly balanced. "Feels like it was waiting for someone."
They packed what they could and made their way back.
The survivors had gathered in the main hall, surrounded by piles of scavenged supplies — food tins, old med kits, water filters, scrap metal. A few of them were even smiling, their eyes brighter than before.
Kael looked at the group and nodded. "Good work. Eat something. Rest if you can." He turned toward the shattered doorway that led out to the forest. "We move at first light."
Jax leaned against a wall, chewing on a ration bar. "You really think there's something better out there?"
Kael stared into the dark trees beyond the ruins. "There has to be."
The wind carried through the broken halls, whispering like the forest itself was listening. For the first time, though, they didn't feel trapped.
They felt ready.
Tomorrow, the journey would begin.