Liam felt like the forest had eyes on him, silent and watchful. Every rustle of leaves, every distant hoot of an owl made his skin prickle as though unseen gazes followed his every step. He walked over to Jack's body, the broken man lying lifeless on the ground, his face still frozen in terror. Liam crouched down, prying the sword from Jack's cold hands. Its steel shimmered faintly in the moonlight, dirt and blood caked along its edge.
"At least you had something good on you," Liam muttered under his breath. The words sounded hollow in the oppressive stillness of the forest, but speaking helped ward off the strange heaviness that seemed to cling to the air.
He slung the sword across his back and walked deeper into the wilderness, weaving through thick brush and towering trees until he found a tree large enough to cradle his weary body. Its branches reached like arms toward the heavens, and Liam climbed high, resting himself in the crook of two sturdy limbs. His muscles ached from the earlier battle, and exhaustion weighed heavily on him. Within minutes, his eyes drifted shut, surrendering to sleep.
When he opened them again, he was no longer in the forest.
Liam stood in the dream realm. That's what he called this strange, surreal place—a reflection of reality warped by shadows and mystery. Here, the air shimmered faintly as though the world itself were made of mist and memory. The trees looked taller, darker, with their roots twisting unnaturally like serpents across the ground. A silver glow illuminated the skies, yet no moon hung above.
"Well," Liam whispered to himself, smirking despite the unease crawling up his spine. "Let's look for something good."
A thought struck him. With focus, he extended his hand and willed his storage space to open. To his surprise, a swirl of blue light shimmered before him, and the sword he had just taken appeared in his grasp. Liam's grin widened, the weight of the blade reassuring in his hand.
"Finally, I have a weapon."
He stepped forward, cautious with every move. The dream realm was treacherous; he had learned that the hard way. Even the smallest mistake here could lead to disaster. The mist curled around his feet as he pushed deeper into the mysterious forest. Then something caught his eye.
Nestled in a hollow beneath an ancient, twisted tree lay a cluster of eggs—at least twenty of them. They glowed faintly, their smooth surfaces lined with strange violet markings that pulsed as though alive. Liam froze, his breath catching in his throat.
"I've hit the jackpot," he whispered, eyes wide. "You cannot see anyone with this kind of luck."
Greed sparked inside him. He approached the nearest egg, raised his sword, and drove it downward. The shell cracked with a sickening pop, releasing a burst of violet mist that dissipated quickly into the air. A faint hum resonated in his ears, followed by a glowing notification.
[Exp: 10/800]
Liam blinked. His lips curled into a smile, and then into a wild grin. The fatigue, the pain, the dread—all of it melted away as exhilaration consumed him. He felt like he was on cloud nine. Without hesitation, he began a frenzied stabbing spree, smashing egg after egg, the system notifications flashing in his vision as his experience bar steadily climbed.
But just as his laughter echoed through the dream forest, the world itself seemed to tremble.
A roar ripped through the air, so powerful it shook the ground beneath his feet. It was a sound of pure rage and sorrow, one that chilled Liam's blood instantly. His sword slipped slightly in his grip as his heart lurched.
"Don't tell me… those were its eggs."
The forest exploded with movement. Branches cracked, trees toppled, and the air sizzled with an unnatural charge. Liam turned and saw it—the lightning snake. The same beast from before. Its scales glowed faintly with arcs of purple energy, its massive body winding between the shattered trees. Its eyes locked onto him, burning with hatred.
Liam's stomach sank. He tightened his grip on the sword, trying to steady his shaking hands. He had never been good with weapons. His fists—that was what he trusted, what his mana flowed into instinctively. He tried channeling his energy into the blade, but the mana recoiled, rushing instead into his fists. He sighed, resigned, raising the weapon awkwardly.
The snake's mind was a tempest of fury. It could smell its children's scent on him—the eggs, the shattered shells, their essence smeared on his soul. He was the killer. The thief of its future. The snake's rage sharpened into purpose: vengeance.
Lightning crackled along its scales as it coiled back, charging power into its maw. The glow deepened into a deadly violet glare, sparks dancing violently in the air as though the world itself recoiled from the beast's wrath.
Liam swallowed hard, sweat dripping down his temple. "Guess I've done it this time."
---
Far away, in a different world entirely, a quiet home stirred under the evening sky.
In Liam's house, the air felt heavy with silence. His absence had carved a wound through the family, a void they pretended not to notice during the day but which swallowed them whole at night.
"Do you ever think Liam is coming back?" a small, innocent voice asked. His younger sister, her eyes shimmering with sorrow, clutched a worn stuffed animal tightly to her chest.
Her parents exchanged a look, their faces carefully composed but their hearts aching.
"Of course he's coming back," Liam's mother said gently, brushing a strand of hair from her daughter's face. "He's just busy with school. That's all."
The girl nodded, though her lip trembled. She turned her gaze downward, pretending to believe it.
Liam's father shifted uneasily, his jaw tightening. He didn't speak, but his silence said more than words could. His wife caught his eye, quickly giving him a look—one that begged him not to break the fragile illusion they had built for their daughter's sake.
And then—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sudden sound startled them all. Liam's mother stood, smoothing her dress with trembling hands, and walked toward the door. Her fingers hesitated briefly on the handle before she pulled it open.
There, standing on the porch, was a man. He wore a smile, though his eyes glinted with something unreadable. In his arms was a package wrapped neatly, ribbons tied with precision.
"I hope these are enough for the presents," the man said softly.
The family stared, confusion mingling with unease. Behind him, the night seemed colder than usual