Aidan read, his breath halting.
She didn't strike the body—she went straight for the soul.
"She would do anything—anything—to make someone feel utter despair. If it shattered a person, she'd do it—break bones, shred souls—just to feed on that despair."
To be in her grasp wasn't death. Death would have been mercy.
She enjoyed it—watching us fall apart piece by piece. Physically, mentally, even their very soul. The more we feared her, the more we broke. And the more we broke, the easier it became for her to… feed.
We ran. Of course we did. Even knowing it wouldn't matter.
But I still ran—because I couldn't face that kind of end. Not like them. Not laughing, not screaming, not with my soul peeled apart like fruit.
When I finally stopped, I realized—I was alone.
Not a single one of my team was in sight. Not even the last one who'd been running beside me. He was faster than me. He should have made it.
But he was gone.
Vanished.
I don't even know when I lost him. One moment he was there, just ahead... faster than me.
I had stopped running.
But I still walked.
Every step had felt like dragging lead through my veins. My aura had long since burned out, leaving nothing but pain behind—raw, screaming pain in my legs, my chest, my bones.
My breath had come in shallow gasps, like my body had forgotten how to survive.
I hadn't even known where I was going. There had been no path. No goal.
I had just… moved. Because stopping had felt like giving up. And if I had given up, I had known the forest would notice.
And it would take me.
I hadn't been fighting to live anymore. I had been fighting to leave from this forest.
That had been all I had left—one desperate wish:
Please. Just let me leave.
At some point, I had realized I was crying. I hadn't noticed when it had started—only that the salt on my lips hadn't been all from sweat.
And I had hated it.
Not because of the tears—
But because I had known, deep down, no one had been coming for me. And the worst part?
I hadn't even believed I'd make it out at time.
I had just kept walking anyway.
I dropped to my knees, legs too weak to carry me further. Then I saw it—and everything inside me just…
Died.
The colour drained from the world. The hope I clung to—ripped away.
She hung upside down from the tree, head tilted, eyes locked onto mine her smile still eerie as it widened looking at me.
And beside her—
The man who had run with me.
Lifeless.
His face twisted in pure, helpless despair.
I collapsed, tears streaming down my face, accepting my death as I fell unconscious.
Somehow, when I opened my eyes again—I was outside the forest.
I don't know how. I don't remember escaping.
But I came back alive.
Yet something had changed inside me.
My research… it stopped being about curiosity. It became an obsession.
I had to understand what happened in there. And more importantly—why?
Aidan's fingers hovered over the page.
He read the last line again, lips barely moving as he whispered it aloud:
"I realized the Dark Forest… isn't a forest. It's a tomb."
He leaned back, He'd read enough. Too much. He dragged his hand down his face, fingers digging into the stubble along his jaw. The book sat open in front of him.
For the first time in many years, Aidan didn't wanted to explore a place, he felt fear, uncertain about it.
"May I never need to step foot in that place." he muttered.
He truly, utterly did not want to step into that forest. This book alone was enough to show him the horror of that place. But where in his mind he had a feeling that his wish might not be accepted.
Aidan stared up at the ceiling, a groan slipping out as he leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table and clutching his head.
Something about all this didn't sit right with him.
If he was being honest, he hadn't really found any solid clue about his vision. Not yet. But… if that vision and the strange calling were pointing him somewhere—then a cold, uneasy thought crept in.
He might have to enter the Dark Forest.
His fingers twitched slightly. His eyes narrowed—not in focus, but in doubt.
The place described in the journal—it matched too well. The trees, the cold, the whispers.
It couldn't be a coincidence.
But part of him hoped it was.
Aidan stood up, closing the book with a thud as he stepped down, his mind still trying to figure out what to do. He placed the book back on the shelf and stepped outside the library, the lights dimming behind him as darkness slowly swallowed the room—and the book.
Aidan pushed open the castle doors, stepping into the fading light of the outer garden.
He exchanged a nod with one of the recruits he trained with when they passed by. The chill evening breeze brushed against his face, carrying with it the scent of fresh air. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting the silence settle his thoughts—so many uncertain matters: the journal, the calling, the vision, his aunt.
Then, without a word, he rolled his shoulders and moved toward the open space—his body ready to train for evening. There was still time before dinner.
One hour later.
Aidan sat on the ground, his gaze drifting from the night sky to his palm. His hand felt so small to him sometimes. He was going to be seven soon. He often forgot his age, especially now that his strength had grown so much. In many ways, he had already surpassed the version of himself from Earth, and at times, it didn't even feel like a fair comparison anymore.
Aidan lay back on the grass, gazing at the sky as he contemplated his life on Maaya so far.
He was blessed with many things in this life, unlike his past one on Earth. He had parents who truly loved him, a mentor like Matthew, and he was above many as the heir to the Wilson household. But even then, there was an urgency in his heart, as if he needed to grow stronger, and fast.
Those visions… He narrowed his eyes, thinking about his aunt's behaviour and so many other things that made him uneasy. But the biggest of them all was the Dark Forest.
He opened his mouth as if speaking to the sky, asking, "What exactly is the Dark Forest—and why does it exist?"