They moved through the forest.
There was no path—only instinct.
Stay in one place, and you die.
Simple.
The trees loomed like skeletal sentinels, their branches clawing at the ash-gray sky.
Fog slid low across the ground, thick and slow, like it had weight.
Like it wanted to hold them in place.
They needed food.
Water.
Shelter.
But none of that mattered if something found them first.
They'd cobbled together makeshift weapons from branches and broken stones.
Kael held one now—a jagged stick he'd sharpened against a rock until it had the vague promise of a point.
Useless against anything real, but it felt better than empty hands.
He walked last.
As expected.
Jack marched up front like a soldier leading troops—self-declared and unquestioned.
Serah and Nia followed close behind him, whispering. Probably strategy. Probably about leaving the dead weight behind.
Kael sighed.
He didn't blame them.
If he vanished, they'd barely notice.
Hell, they might even move faster.
His fingers tightened around the branch as his eyes flicked back to the fog-covered trail behind them.
Goodbye, smoothie cup, he thought. You were a better friend than these bastards.
He shook the thought away.
Bitterness wouldn't help him survive.
Silence settled again.
And then Kael murmured the words—softly, under his breath.
Words he hadn't realized he remembered.
Zar'khel imur'an thorei.
He didn't know what they meant.
Not really.
###
[⚫ Voice of the Void ⚫]
[Name: Kael Virein]
[True Rune: The Dying Spark]
[True Rune Rank: 9]
[True Rune Ability: [Flicker]]
[Soul Core: Dormant]
[Attributes: [Beyonder], [Echo of Divinity]]
[Race: Human]
[Bloodline: None]
[Physique: None]
###
Pathetic.
That was Kael's conclusion.
He focused on his attributes again, trying to make sense of anything that might save his skin.
###
[Attribute: Beyonder]
[You are not from this world. You were never meant to be here.]
[Attribute: Echo of Divinity]
[Your soul carries a faint echo of something once divine.
Its origin is unknown. Its purpose unclear.]
###
Beyonder.
Yeah, no kidding.
Everyone in their class probably had that tag.
But Echo of Divinity?
Kael frowned, touching his chest as if he could feel it—this so-called "echo" inside him.
A divine spark?
Didn't feel very divine out here, tripping through corpse-fog with a glorified stick in hand.
What's the point of having god-stuff in your soul if it doesn't stop monsters from eating your face?
Useless.
Like everything else he'd gotten.
He kept moving.
Then noticed something strange.
The light was fading.
Not gradually.
Fast.
The blood-red moon—if that's even what it was—was dipping below the horizon like a dying ember being snuffed out.
Night was falling in the Abyssal Realm.
And night felt wrong here.
"Hurry up!" Jack barked. "We need to find cover!"
Kael didn't argue.
They broke into a run, feet pounding dead soil.
Kael's thoughts twisted with every step.
If my luck was real, something would have attacked us by now.
A monster. A trap.
Hell, a tree branch to the face.
Guess that luck ran out when I pulled Rank Nine trash.
He almost smiled at the thought.
Almost.
"Stop," Serah said suddenly.
Sharp.
Urgent.
They froze.
Jack turned first. "What is it?"
Serah's eyes were wide, scanning the trees. Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"Something's wrong."
A beat.
Then—
A howl.
Not from an animal.
Not from anything natural.
It sounded like pain wearing a face.
Branches cracked.
Figures emerged.
Three of them.
They slipped from the treeline like shadows dipped in blood—twisted things that might have been human once, but weren't anymore.
Their bodies jerked with unnatural spasms, skin stretched tight over raw muscle, black veins pulsing beneath their flesh.
And their eyes—
Bleeding.
Burning.
Smiling.
They'd been following them.
Waiting for full dark.
Letting the group wear themselves out before the feast.
"Shit," Jack muttered, weapon raised.
Kael didn't move.
His fingers clenched tighter around his stick.
So this is it.
Dinner for something that doesn't breathe right.
Serah screamed as one of them lunged.
This time, Kael didn't slap her.
Didn't have the luxury.
He was too busy surviving.
Too busy cursing his luck.
Too busy realizing that even now, surrounded, outmatched, and already forgotten by the world…
He wasn't afraid.
He was angry.