Continuation of chapter 5
The Silence of the Forest
The Odyssey cannon stood behind them, sinking deeper into the mist as though it had always belonged there, a relic abandoned by time itself. Its barrel was rusted, its gears eaten by moss, but it stared like an unblinking eye, a silent judge of all who dared pass.
Not one of them touched it.
Not one of them dared speak of it.
"Keep moving."
Commander Arthur Blackwell's voice carried low and firm, cutting through the group's unease. He didn't look back. He never did. The weight of his command was such that obedience followed him like a shadow, heavy and unquestioned.
Lady Gaga, cloak trailing across the damp earth, turned briefly toward the children, her voice sharp enough to pierce their hesitation.
"Go ahead. Don't linger. Don't tempt whatever sleeps there."
And so they obeyed.
The stretcher carrying Jon Snow creaked with each step, Rowan and Thomas straining at its poles, their breath ragged but steady. Jon's face was pale against the fog, eyes fluttering open for moments, lips cracked and trembling.
As they pressed forward, his voice broke the silence—thin, yet unmistakable.
"Did you… know what it is called?"
The words froze them for an instant.
No one answered. Twilight's hand tightened around his rifle. He too had never seen such a weapon, not in any training, not in any tale. It wasn't just a cannon it was something else, something monstrous, something that should not exist.
But neither he nor Jon had the words for it.
And so silence reclaimed the air.
At first, it was a silence that seemed ordinary: the kind that follows rain, when the world holds its breath. Yet as they marched deeper, it grew stranger. Heavier. The rhythm of boots on damp earth was the only sound, echoing too loudly against the stillness.
No sparrow sang. No rabbit darted through the underbrush. No insect hummed near their ears.
Even the wind was gone.
It was as though the forest itself had ceased to breathe.
Rowan frowned, shifting the stretcher on his shoulder. Sweat slid into his eyes, and when he blinked, the mist seemed to thicken, closing in. "It's too quiet," he muttered.
Ema stopped suddenly. Her eyes widened, scanning the haze with a sharpness that had saved them many times before. "Something's wrong," she whispered. Her voice was tight, almost swallowed by the fog.
Zero had already felt it. His hands moved without hesitation, raising his rifle, barrel steady. He said nothing he never needed to but the steel in his posture made the others falter.
Aria clutched her chest, trying to slow the hammering of her heart. "Why does it feel… different? Like the forest isn't here anymore."
Daria's hand went to the dagger at her side, the faint scrape of steel loud against the hush. Her lips curled into something between defiance and dread. "Then what is here?"
Abb froze completely, boots planting firmly into the damp earth. He tilted his head as though listening to something beyond mortal hearing. For a boy who rarely wasted breath, that stillness was more chilling than any scream.
Edwin, trailing near the back, swallowed hard. His voice broke, thin and trembling. "It's too quiet. Far too quiet."
Lady Gaga's expression was unreadable. She did not comfort. She did not reassure. Her silence was sharper than a blade.
Arthur Blackwell strode forward, unconcerned. To him, silence was no stranger; he wore it like armor.
But the children felt it.
And they knew.
It was not just silence.
It was presence.
Eyes pressed in from every direction, unseen but undeniable, heavy as chains.
Surrounded.
By whom? By what?
Rowan's throat tightened. His whisper barely escaped. "I… I can't even hear myself."
Aria shook her head violently. "It's like—like the forest vanished."
Ema's voice cracked, louder than she meant it to. "We're not alone."
The stretcher jolted violently. Jon Snow convulsed, lips trembling, voice breaking into ragged fragments.
"…watching… waiting…"
Thomas nearly dropped his end. "He's delirious! He doesn't know what he's saying!"
But the weight of Jon's words sank into them all.
The forest was listening.
Abb's jaw tightened, his silence more certain than speech. Edwin trembled, muttering desperately, "If we're surrounded… why don't they show themselves?"
Still no answer.
Twilight's finger curled against his trigger, his eyes locked on the fog. His breath was slow, deliberate, but inside he was shaking. He knew the shape of a hunt. And this… this was the moment when prey realized it was already in the predator's jaws.
Rowan's eyes darted toward their commander, voice breaking. "Blackwell… what is this?"
Arthur Blackwell did not turn. His voice was iron.
"It is the forest."
Lady Gaga's cloak swayed as she walked, her words sharp and final.
"And the forest does not welcome intruders."
The mist thickened. Shadows shifted within it, too tall for men, too wide for trees. Shapes flickered there, then gone. Watching. Waiting.
Zero's rifle trembled, though his arms were steady. Twilight inhaled sharply, pulling his weapon close.
The silence deepened, until even their own breathing felt like a violation.
Then it came.
A whisper.
Not words. Not language. Just breath. A thousand sighs at once.
The forest exhaled.
And they knew.
They were not surrounded by men.
They were inside something else's lungs.