The world tore itself apart once more.
Elias gasped for air, the sound of his heartbeat pounding against his skull.
He was back. Again. In that damned forest — wet leaves sticking to his face, the same stench of rot in the air, the same fog that swallowed everything.
He didn't scream. Not this time. The panic had already burned itself into numbness.
He only muttered through gritted teeth, "Not again… not again…"
The ground beneath him pulsed with dampness. He rose slowly, every muscle trembling as the memory of pain crawled beneath his skin — the sensation of spikes tearing through him, bones snapping, flesh ripping.
It was too real to be forgotten.
He glanced around. The trees were tall, twisted, their bark blackened by something like ash. The light — if it could be called that — came from a pale red haze filtering through the clouds, painting everything in blood tones.
He clenched his fists. "I can't stay here."
Then he ran.
At first, his body resisted — heavy and unresponsive, as though it remembered dying too many times. But survival was a stubborn thing. His mind screamed move, and so his legs obeyed.
He sprinted through the forest, dodging roots and fallen branches, mud splashing against his legs. Each breath felt like swallowing smoke. The air was too thick, too heavy, too alive.
Somewhere behind him, the growl began again.
It started as a distant rumble — then grew, twisting into a low, wet snarl.
The creature was awake. And hunting.
Elias didn't look back. He knew what waited behind him — long limbs, bones that cracked as it moved, a mouth that shouldn't exist.
Every step he took seemed to pull the monster closer, like the forest itself wanted him to fail.
He stumbled over a fallen log, scraping his arm. Blood dripped down his wrist, and the smell made the air shift. The creature roared, closer now.
He ran faster.
Branches whipped at his face. The ground sloped downward into a ravine filled with mist. Elias hesitated only for a moment — then jumped.
He hit the ground hard, pain flaring in his legs. But he was still breathing. That was enough. He crawled to his feet and kept running, the world spinning around him.
The roar echoed again — too close. The earth shook as something massive crashed through the trees behind him.
He turned his head just long enough to see the blur of gray flesh and white eyes rushing toward him. It wasn't human. It wasn't even animal. It was wrong.
Every part of it looked like a nightmare stitched together from hunger and despair.
Elias screamed, forcing his body forward — but his strength was gone. His legs gave out. The creature lunged, claws cutting through the air where he'd been a heartbeat ago.
He fell face-first into the mud, gasping. His mind fractured between fear and exhaustion.
He couldn't run anymore. He couldn't even think.
Maybe this is it, he thought dimly. Maybe I'll wake up again. Or maybe I won't.
He closed his eyes as the air vibrated with the creature's final growl —
and everything went dark.
Warmth.
That was the first thing he felt.
A soft, almost gentle heat brushing against his skin.
The smell of burning wood, faintly sweet.
Crackling — the unmistakable sound of a fire.
Elias stirred. His eyes opened slowly, his vision blurred. For a moment, he thought it was another dream — until he felt the solid ground beneath him.
He was lying on a bed of dry grass and cloth. The air no longer reeked of blood and rot; instead, it carried smoke, pine, and warmth.
He pushed himself up.
A campfire burned a few steps away, flames dancing in rhythm with the wind. Sparks floated up into a sky he hadn't seen before — dark blue, dotted with unfamiliar stars.
He wasn't alone.
Across the fire sat a woman. Her hair shone like molten gold in the firelight, long enough to brush her waist. Pointed ears peeked through the strands — an elf, without doubt. Her eyes were sharp, green like the edge of a blade, but not unkind. She was cleaning a bowstring, movements precise and calm.
Next to her stood a man — tall, broad-shouldered, with a chest like carved stone. His arms were wrapped in old bandages and scars that told a hundred stories of battle. He held a massive sword stuck into the dirt beside him, using it as a resting post.
Elias blinked at them, his throat dry. "Where… where am I?"
The elf looked up first. Her voice was soft but steady. "You're safe. For now."
The man chuckled, the sound deep and rough. "Safe's a stretch, Lyra. He was lying half-dead near the black forest's edge. If we hadn't found him, the beasts would've finished the job."
"Then it's lucky we came along," Lyra replied, her gaze returning to Elias. "You're alive because of him." She nodded toward the man.
Elias swallowed hard. "Thank you." His voice was hoarse, his mind still reeling. "Who… who are you?"
The man straightened, his grin faint but genuine. "Name's Daren. Used to be a soldier, now I hit things for coin."
"And I'm Lyra," the elf added. "Archer, scout, and—" her lips curved into a small smile, "the one who dragged your unconscious body out of the mud."
Elias let out a shaky breath. "Then… thank you. Both of you."
Daren waved a hand. "Don't mention it. Though you've got guts, running through that cursed place alone. Either you're brave, or stupid."
Elias managed a tired smile. "Probably both."
That earned a laugh from Daren. The sound felt warm, strange after so much silence.
Lyra tilted her head, studying him. "You're not from around here, are you?"
Elias hesitated. He could've said no, but the truth sounded insane even to him.
"I… don't know," he admitted quietly. "I woke up there. I've died there. And somehow, I keep coming back."
Silence. Only the fire crackled.
Lyra and Daren exchanged a look — not disbelief, but recognition, as if they'd heard stranger things before.
Finally, Lyra spoke. "The forest does strange things. It bends time, breaks memory. If you escaped it alive, perhaps it's not chance."
Elias frowned. "What do you mean?"
She gazed into the flames. "There are ruins beyond that forest. Ancient ones. Some say the gods themselves sealed something there — something that shouldn't exist."
Daren snorted. "Or it's just another cursed hole full of monsters. Either way, that's where we're headed."
"You're… going there?" Elias asked, disbelief in his tone.
Lyra nodded. "We're explorers — what some call adventurers. We travel to learn what's left of this broken world. Every ruin, every beast, every mystery. It's dangerous, yes. But it's life."
Elias stared at the fire. The warmth on his face was real, grounding. For the first time since he arrived in this nightmare, the world didn't feel like it was trying to kill him.
Still, the thought of returning to that place made his stomach twist.
Lyra seemed to sense his hesitation. "You can come with us," she said softly. "You don't have to face it alone."
Daren crossed his arms. "We could use another hand anyway. Even a half-dead one."
Elias looked between them — the calm confidence of the elf, the solid strength of the warrior. For a moment, he almost forgot the pain of dying. The thought of companionship felt distant, unreal, yet… tempting.
He hesitated. "Why me?"
Lyra's answer was simple. "Because fate doesn't drag people through hell for no reason."
He didn't know if he believed in fate, but he knew one thing — he didn't want to wake up alone in that forest again.
The fire popped, sending a spark into the air. Elias watched it rise and vanish into the darkness.
Then he took a breath and said quietly, "Alright. I'll go with you."
Daren grinned. "Good choice, kid."
Lyra smiled too — faint but sincere. "Welcome to our team, Elias."
The night stretched on, calm and silent. The fire burned low, painting their shadows across the earth.
For the first time in what felt like eternity, Elias allowed himself to rest.
But deep in the forest — far beyond the reach of their firelight — something howled.
The sound was distant. But not gone.
And though Elias closed his eyes, sleep did not come easily.
The first rays of dawn crept slowly across the forest, painting the edges of the clearing with pale gold. Elias stirred, groaning softly as he rolled over, still half-dreaming. He opened one eye — then the other — and in a moment of clumsy panic, his foot caught on a hidden root.
He tumbled forward.
Flames! Flames!
Elias shrieked as his chest landed squarely in the remnants of the campfire. Sparks leapt across his clothes, smoke curling around his hair, and the heat seared his skin. He flailed, smacking the ground, his panicked cries piercing the quiet morning.
"Elias!" Lyra's voice rang sharp and urgent.
"Elias, stand back!" Daren bellowed, rushing to the side.
With a sweep of his arm, Daren summoned a gust of wind, strong and sudden. The flames hissed and twisted in the wind, retreating from Elias' body. Smoke stung his eyes, but the fire had finally been beaten down. Elias collapsed, coughing, his hair and clothes singed, leaving a faint pattern of charred marks across his arms and legs.
Lyra stirred, rubbing her temple and glaring at him through the smoke. Her green eyes, usually calm and sharp, burned with irritation. Before Elias could apologize, she kicked him — a swift, furious strike that sent him skidding backward into a thick bush.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!" Elias yelled, wincing as pain radiated across his stomach. A deep purple bruise blossomed across his side where he had landed. He scrambled upright, hands pressed against the painful spot, and offered the most pitiful grin he could manage.
"I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to! It was an accident!" he stammered, voice hoarse from smoke and fear. "I was just… sleepy… and clumsy…"
Lyra narrowed her eyes for a long moment, then sighed, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "Fine," she said, her tone grudging but controlled. "Just… don't do it again."
Elias nodded vigorously, too relieved to speak. "Yes! Never again!"
Daren stepped forward, clapping a hand on Elias' shoulder. "Well, at least you're awake. That's something." He gave a small grin, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of concern.
The morning air was cool now, carrying the faint scent of dew and smoke. The three of them gathered their gear, checking bows, swords, and satchels. Elias fumbled with his own belongings, making sure nothing else could set him on fire again. Once ready, he turned to Daren, eager for answers.
"So… uh… where exactly are we exploring?" Elias asked, brushing ash from his sleeve.
Before Daren could answer, Lyra leapt forward, her voice sharp and almost childlike in its intensity. "The very first place we step into is… this forest!"
Elias blinked, frozen in place. He stared at her, confusion and awe mingling in his mind. Her small frame and playful energy made her seem younger than she appeared, yet the confident, commanding way she spoke suggested maturity well beyond her looks. Elias had no idea whether he was facing a woman fully grown or a mischievous eight-year-old.
Daren chuckled dryly beside him. "Don't overthink it. Just follow us."
Together, the trio entered the forest. The trees loomed overhead, thick and twisted, their branches forming grotesque shapes in the misty morning light. Every step brought the scent of decay and damp earth closer to their senses. The quiet was uneasy — the kind that made every twig snap sound like a shout, every distant shadow a lurking predator.
Hours passed. The forest thickened, shadows deepened, and Elias' nerves began to fray. The hairs on his arms stood on end. Then, without warning, the silence shattered.
A pack of monstrous creatures emerged from the underbrush, their movements unnatural and swift. Their eyes glowed with hunger, teeth gnashing.
Elias froze. Daren's eyes narrowed. "Stay behind me," he ordered, voice calm but firm.
Wind swirled around Daren, forming a blade-like vortex. With a sweep of his arm, he sent two of the creatures' heads spinning, another following shortly after. The forest echoed with guttural shrieks.
But before Elias could catch his breath, one of the creatures lunged directly at Lyra. Its claws tore through the air, aiming for her side.
Elias acted without thinking. He rushed forward, planting a solid kick into the creature, sending it staggering away. Relief surged… until a searing heat exploded across his body.
Lyra had raised her hands instinctively, calling forth flames to strike the creature. But the timing was horridly wrong. Elias' body was caught in the surge of magic, engulfed in roaring fire. Pain unlike anything he had ever known tore through him. He screamed, the world melting into flame and agony.
He could see Lyra's face through the fire — her green eyes wide, mouth open in horror. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she dropped to her knees beside him.
"I… I'm so sorry!" she cried, her voice breaking. "I didn't mean to! I didn't—"
Elias' vision blurred. Heat, smoke, and pain consumed him. His body burned, flesh screaming under the intensity. Daren shouted something, but words couldn't reach him.
As his consciousness teetered on the edge of oblivion, Elias thought desperately, Why can I survive this? Why am I still… here?
Through the fire and agony, he forced his eyes open, straining against the darkness creeping at the edges of his vision. There — above him, faintly glowing — a strange sight appeared: a clock, its hands spinning backward, the numbers twisting in impossible ways.
A cold wind ran through his veins. Slowly, the burning pain receded. His body felt numb, then icy, then whole. The forest, the creatures, and even the fire around him began to rewind in impossible clarity.
Elias opened his eyes fully. The forest cleared, the pack of monsters vanished, and the flames of the campfire burned gently, as if nothing had ever happened.
He gasped for air, still trembling, looking at Lyra and Daren. They stood as they had before the journey, ready to depart, unaware of the death he had just survived.
Elias' stomach tightened — he pressed a hand against it, noting no burn, no injury, just the cold echo of the fire he had escaped. The forest stretched before him, untouched, calm, yet ominous.
He exhaled slowly, a mixture of relief, fear, and awe filling him. The thought returned to him: Why do I come back? Why am I here?
Lyra adjusted her bow, glancing at him with a faint smile. "You ready?" she asked.
Daren tightened his grip on his sword. "We move forward. The forest awaits."
Elias nodded, still trying to process the miracle — or curse — of returning from death. He knew one thing: every step he took, every choice he made, could bring him back to fire, to pain, to the edge of oblivion.
And yet, with a deep breath, he stepped forward into the forest, following the team he now called his own.
The sun rose higher. The shadows lengthened. The forest seemed alive with danger, secrets, and the promise that nothing, not even death itself, could stay the path of those who dared to walk it.
Elias' mind churned, the memory of fire and flames lingering in the back of his consciousness. He shivered, not from cold, but from knowing the truth of the world he now walked: the forest, the beasts, and even his friends were all threads in a tapestry he had yet to understand.
And though he walked beside them, alive, the faint echo of the backward-turning clock whispered in his mind, a reminder that death, fire, and pain were never far behind.
For now, he survived. But the forest had only just begun.