Liam slumped against the rough trunk of an old oak, his chest heaving as sweat dripped down his forehead. His hands trembled slightly from exhaustion, though his eyes never stopped scanning the darkness around him. The forest at night was both a refuge and a trap; the thick canopy shielded him from the eyes of pursuers, yet every rustle of leaves whispered danger.
Taking a long, steadying breath, Liam forced himself to focus. His goal remained the same—leave this cursed place alive and become stronger in the process. He knew too well that weakness meant death, and death meant nothingness.
The faint shimmer of a translucent screen flickered before his eyes.
[You have leveled up.]
For a brief moment, relief washed over him. It wasn't much, but it meant progress. Strength. Potential. Still, a gnawing thought plagued his mind—leveling up was meaningless if he didn't survive long enough to use it. After a long silence, he decided.
"I'll stay here. In the forest. At least for a while…" Liam muttered to himself, his voice barely audible. His words dissolved into the night, carried off by the whispers of unseen creatures.
Somewhere far away, in a brightly lit office filled with silence, a very different conversation was taking place.
---
"Why haven't you captured him yet?" A cold, impatient voice snapped. "Do you know how many resources I've invested in your team?"
The captain of the retrieval unit stood rigid, his fists clenched at his sides. He tried to hold himself together, but a crushing weight pressed against his chest. Every word from that voice felt like a hammer striking iron. His throat tightened, and for a moment he wondered if his heart would simply stop beating.
" sources…" he started, but the words stuck like thorns in his throat. His jaw trembled as his face twisted into a solemn mask." if the sources are correct … my team was… massacred."
The line went silent.
He thought for a brief, fragile second that perhaps the man on the other end would accept this explanation, but that hope shattered as another voice suddenly filled the room. It was not the impatient master he served—it was something else.
A deep, rumbling tone, distorted and heavy, seeped into his ears like poison.
"I've already seen what happened," the voice said. "It seems this mutant… is quite interesting. I've found myself a new plaything to keep me company."
The captain froze. His instincts screamed at him to move, to look around, to run, but his body no longer obeyed him. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but not a single word came out. His tongue was heavy, his jaw locked tight. Panic spread through him like wildfire.
The sound of footsteps echoed behind him. Slow. Deliberate. Each step hammered into his chest like a war drum.
No… someone's here. Someone's behind me.
The captain's eyes widened in terror. He wanted to scream, but his voice had been stolen.
"You humans…" the deep voice whispered, now impossibly close. "Your kind is far too weak. Well… at least for now."
A cold breath brushed the back of his neck.
"Why don't you send our little mutant a present?" the voice continued, its tone playful, almost mocking. "I hope he can find me. I'm itching for something… amusing."
The captain's vision swam as the air around him thickened, pressing in like a suffocating blanket. He could feel his body breaking down under the pressure, his mind fraying at the edges. Then—sudden silence. The oppressive weight lifted.
When he dared to blink, he was alone.
But the seed of dread had already been planted.
---
Elsewhere, far removed from the chaos of Liam's flight or the captain's torment, a place existed where no light could reach. A domain untouched by sun, moon, or stars. A darkness so absolute that even shadows were swallowed whole.
In the middle of that void lay a figure. A man, motionless, as though he had slept there for an eternity. His body blended into the abyss, his presence nearly indistinguishable from the void itself. Then—without warning—his eyes opened.
A gleam of silver cut through the darkness.
The man sat up slowly, his movements deliberate, as if even the act of waking was a decision, not an instinct. His gaze turned upward, though there was no sky to see, no horizon to mark. Only the endless black.
"So…" he murmured, his voice carrying effortlessly through the emptiness. "You've already chosen the candidate."
He let the silence linger, as though savoring it. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"I guess it has begun."
The void rippled at his words. For a brief moment, the darkness itself seemed alive—breathing, listening.
The man stood. Though no ground existed beneath him, his steps made no sound, no ripple. He moved with the confidence of one who had been waiting for this exact moment.
The game had begun.
---
Back in the forest, Liam stirred from his brief rest. His breathing had slowed, but unease gnawed at him. He couldn't shake the sensation that someone something, had turned its eyes toward him.
He wiped the sweat from his brow, then clenched his fists.