Dawn broke slowly, the red sky of Mars painting the jagged horizon. Shadows stretched long across the broken outpost walls, and every creak of the earth beneath their boots carried a warning.
They moved cautiously. Eris led at the front, every sense stretched thin, while Mara kept her rifle close, eyes scanning the undergrowth. Jonas, though pale and pained, refused to stay behind; his steps were steady if strained. Liora walked in the center, her hands clasped, her quiet humming carrying a strange harmony against the whispers of the soil.
The forest loomed ahead, its trees warped into unnatural shapes. Branches curled like skeletal fingers, their bark pulsing faintly with that same inner glow the remnants carried. It was less like entering woodland and more like walking into the veins of a living being.
Mara muttered, "This doesn't feel right. Forests aren't supposed to breathe."
Jonas gave a tight grin despite the ache in his chest. "Then maybe we hold our breath and hope it doesn't notice us."
Eris stopped at the threshold of the first tree. The air shifted here—thicker, heavier, carrying a metallic tang that clung to their tongues. His eyes narrowed as he laid a palm against the bark. A faint vibration thrummed beneath his skin, alive, responsive.
"It knows we're here," he whispered.
Before anyone could answer, the ground gave a soft shudder, and low murmurs drifted between the trees. Not voices exactly—more like echoes of voices. Whispers that didn't belong to one tongue but to many, layered and overlapping, speaking from the soil itself.
Liora stepped forward, her eyes distant. "They're not only hostile… they're calling."
Mara caught her arm sharply. "Or they're luring you."
"No," Liora shook her head, her voice steady. "They're afraid."
The words froze them in place. Afraid? Of what?
Eris raised his gaze deeper into the forest, the glowing veins of the trees guiding his vision toward a faint light pulsing farther within. A heart-like rhythm, slow but strong. He felt it resonate in his chest, a pull impossible to ignore.
"That's where we go," he said.
Jonas cursed under his breath. "Straight into the beast's belly, huh?"
But still, he followed. They all did.
Step by step, they crossed into the forest, swallowed by its living glow. Behind them, the ruins of the outpost faded into shadow. Ahead, the whispers thickened, and with each breath, it felt less like walking and more like descending deeper into something's memory.
The living forest had accepted them—or trapped them.
And there would be no turning back.