Adrian ran.
Not for minutes. Not for hours. Time had lost all meaning. He only knew his muscles screamed, his lungs burned, and the forest behind him exhaled in hungry, deliberate rhythm, as if savoring the chase. The shadow that had appeared among the trees—the one with amber eyes—was patient, precise, almost intelligent. He could feel it learning him with every step.
Branches lashed against his face, leaving streaks of blood, but he hardly felt them. The metallic tang of his own fear filled his mouth. Each breath was shallow, ragged, and every footfall seemed muffled by the thick, damp ground. Moss clung to his shoes and roots twisted like serpents, eager to ensnare him, yet somehow he kept moving.
Then the forest changed.
The trees thickened, their trunks twisting into shapes that were almost human—fingers, torsos, faces frozen in silent screams—but the shapes moved subtly when he wasn't looking. He sensed eyes on him everywhere, yet saw nothing tangible. Leaves rustled, shadows shifted. The air seemed to pulse with intent, dense and heavy like water.
A low sound began to emerge beneath the breathing—the whisper of movement, faint and deliberate. Adrian froze, every nerve on edge. The sound didn't come from one direction. It was all around him, inside him, beneath his skin.
A figure appeared.
Not the amber-eyed hunter. Something else. Smaller. Hunched. Its skin glistened like wet bark, and its limbs bent at angles no human could survive. Its eyes were black voids, empty and deep. It cocked its head, examining him, tilting its shadowed face as if trying to decide what he was worth.
Adrian's pulse slammed in his ears. He wanted to flee, but his legs refused. Fear rooted him in place while curiosity, that fragile ember inside, flared.
> "Why are you here?"
The voice was inside his head, soft, but not human. It carried layers, like echoes trapped in water. He didn't answer. He didn't even try. He only stared, and in that moment, the forest exhaled again.
The ground beneath him vibrated, subtle at first, then violently. Roots erupted from the earth, snaking toward him like living ropes. He stumbled back, barely catching himself on the nearest tree trunk. The smaller creature vanished into the shadows, leaving only the faint trace of wet, earthy smell.
Adrian's mind raced. He thought of the stone pillar, the "Rare Prey" designation. He realized the forest itself was alive in ways he couldn't yet comprehend. Every shadow, every twisted branch, every whispering leaf was aware. Watching. Responding. Testing him.
He kept moving. Step by slow, deliberate step, he followed the winding path deeper into the forest. Each step brought new horrors: glowing fungi that pulsed like hearts, casting sickly light on twisted roots; pools of water that reflected not his face, but someone—or something—else; trees whose bark shivered, releasing a faint, mournful sigh when touched.
Then came the eyes.
Not one pair. Hundreds. Floating in the darkness like stars corrupted by shadow. Some blinked slowly. Some didn't blink at all. They didn't belong to animals. They didn't belong to anything Adrian had ever seen. And yet, they followed him, tracking him, dissecting him, weighing him against some unfathomable standard.
His chest tightened. Sweat poured down his back. He felt the weight of a thousand gazes pressing on him, and for the first time, he understood the forest wasn't just hunting him—it was judging him.
And then he heard the whisper again.
> "Curiosity… dangerous. Hunger… inevitable."
It came from everywhere. Behind the rustle of leaves. From beneath his feet. From inside his skull.
Adrian realized something.
The forest didn't just respond to movement. It responded to thought. To intent. To fear.
A panic rose inside him, sharp and pure. He stumbled, and in that moment, something huge moved above. Branches snapped as a shadow descended from the treetops—an impossible form, wings too vast to be natural, claws hooked like scythes, and eyes like molten amber, focused entirely on him.
Adrian ran. Faster than he had ever moved. The ground seemed to shift beneath him, twisting paths and roots conspiring to delay him. Yet he didn't look back. Not once.
But in his mind, he heard it:
> "Run. Learn. Survive. Or be consumed."
Adrian had no choice. The forest had made that clear.
Every heartbeat echoed the words.
Every breath reminded him of the stone pillar, of being marked, of being chosen.
And as he ran into the shadows, deeper than any light had ever reached, Adrian understood something terrible and exhilarating:
He was no longer just a boy who had lost his will to live.
He was prey.
He was hunted.
And in this place, the end had only just begun.