The next morning started like the last one ended—with Marcus nearly dying. Again.
To be fair, this time it was mostly his fault.
He'd woken up before Kaelra, stretched, yawned, walked five steps into the mist to pee, and somehow wandered face-first into a vine loop trap.
He dangled upside down from a thick branch, flailing like an idiot.
"I see survival is still a suggestion for you," Loria noted, appearing mid-spin beside him.
"Do you… wanna help or just keep roasting me while I dangle like a discount piñata?"
"Both."
Kaelra showed up two minutes later, snorted once, and cut him down.
They walked east.
The air was heavier today. The sky, once a gentle gray, had turned greenish with streaks of silver cloud. Trees creaked louder than before, and the shadows felt too deliberate.
"We're getting close," Kaelra muttered.
"To what?"
"A Memorywood."
Marcus frowned. "That's a forest thing, or a 'kill-me-in-my-sleep' kind of thing?"
"Both," Loria answered.
Kaelra added, "It's where the forest buries echoes. Traumas. Regrets. Dreams that went sour. Places like that don't forget."
Marcus squinted. "So it's like… haunted?"
"Worse," Loria said. "It's sentient nostalgia. Sticky, beautiful, poisonous."
The air grew thick and humid as they entered the glade. Trees here were short, wide, and hollow, each one shaped like open hands. Strange vines curled around trunks like fingers gripping throats.
Marcus shivered.
The moment they stepped inside, it started.
The sky above blinked.
The trees shifted.
Kaelra vanished.
"Wait—Kaelra?!"
No reply.
"Loria?!"
"Still here," she said, but her voice was distant. Muffled. "You're in the echo field. It's reacting to your tether."
"What does that mean?!"
"You'll see."
Marcus turned—and saw a familiar hallway.
It shouldn't have been there. This was a forest.
But standing before him, clear as sunlight, was the corridor from his old college dorm. Linoleum floor. Flickering lights. Cheap posters for student bands. The smell of pizza and spilled beer.
And at the end of the hall…
Her.
A girl. Shoulder-length red hair. Army-green jacket. Combat boots.
"Amanda?" he whispered.
She turned.
Smiled.
"Hey, Mar," she said softly.
Amanda had died three years ago.
Car accident. Late night. Icy roads.
Marcus hadn't gone to the funeral. Couldn't.
And yet, here she was, walking toward him in this impossible forest corridor like nothing had happened.
He took a step forward. "This… isn't real."
"I missed you," she said.
His hands shook.
"No," he muttered. "No no no no—this is fake. This is forest garbage. You're not—"
She touched his arm.
Warm.
Soft.
Real.
"You left me behind," she said.
His knees buckled.
"Marcus," Loria's voice cut through the fog like a knife. "Don't talk to her. Don't listen. It's a memory mirage."
He turned away, eyes wild. "I know! I know, okay?!"
Amanda was crying now.
"You forgot me."
Marcus bit his lip so hard it bled.
"I didn't," he said. "I never forgot you. That's why it hurts."
The forest trembled.
Amanda screamed—and burst into a swarm of red petals.
The glade cracked.
Reality folded back.
Marcus fell to his knees, gasping. The real forest returned. Kaelra reappeared, crouching beside him.
"You're lucky," she said. "Some people never come back."
He looked up, dazed. "Why does it do that?"
"Because the forest remembers everything," Loria answered. "Even the things you try to forget."
They made camp outside the glade.
Marcus didn't eat.
He sat by the fire, silent, picking at his sleeve.
Kaelra didn't ask what he saw. She didn't need to.
Eventually, she said, "It's easier when you stop pretending you didn't lose anything."
He didn't answer.
"You passed the glade," Loria said later that night, when Kaelra was asleep. "Barely. That's something."
Marcus stared into the dark.
"I miss her."
"You always will."
He nodded.
Then asked the question that had been waiting since day one.
"Why me?"
"Because the forest needs a memory that fights back."