The ground beneath Riku’s boots felt uneven, the thick moss beneath his feet sinking with each step. He was moving forward, but every instinct screamed at him to turn back. His mind raced, replaying the sight of the creature in the mist. A hulking figure, too large to be any normal animal. But it wasn't just its size that unsettled him; it was the way it moved, slow and deliberate, like it was aware of his every movement, tracking him with a sinister intelligence.

The fog swirled around him, thick and oppressive, each step feeling like he was walking deeper into the maw of the forest itself. The air was damp, the scent of earth and rot clinging to everything, pressing in on him from all sides. The trees loomed like silent sentinels, their gnarled branches twisting into the gray sky above, blocking out what little light remained. The world had turned monochrome, a canvas of shadows and mist.

Riku’s hand instinctively reached for the dagger at his belt, his fingers brushing its hilt. The cold metal was a reminder that he was still armed, that he still had a chance. But there was something else here—something he couldn't shake. A feeling that the forest was not just alive, but aware of him. Watching him. He could feel the weight of unseen eyes on him, following his every step.

His heartbeat quickened. He couldn’t shake the sensation that he was being hunted.

Every rustle of the leaves, every snap of a twig, sent his senses into overdrive. The woods weren’t just alive with creatures—there was something more. The corruption, the darkness that had twisted this place into a nightmare, was more pervasive than he had realized. It was in the very air, sinking into his bones, whispering from the depths of the trees, urging him to go deeper, to surrender to it.

He stopped suddenly, his breath catching in his throat as he heard something. A whisper. A voice. Low, almost inaudible, like a distant murmur carried on the wind. His body tensed. He couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was unmistakable: it was calling to him.

Riku’s eyes darted around, scanning the fog for any sign of movement. But there was nothing. No creature, no figure—only the constant shifting of the mist and the eerie silence that seemed to stretch on forever.

The whisper came again, louder this time. The words were still impossible to make out, but they were closer now. Riku felt a chill creep down his spine. It wasn’t the wind. It wasn’t the trees. The voice was coming from within the forest itself, as though the very land was trying to communicate with him.

He shook his head, trying to clear the fog in his mind. He had come here for a reason—to stop the corruption, to find the source of the darkness that had been spreading through the land. But now, he wasn’t so sure. The forest felt different. It felt… alive. More alive than he had ever felt in his years of traveling. It was as if the very trees were watching him, their gnarled branches twisting and turning, the bark creaking as if it was trying to speak.

“Who’s there?” Riku’s voice was hoarse, a whisper lost in the vast expanse of the forest. But it felt like he was shouting into an endless void, his words swallowed by the mist before they could even reach the trees.

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The forest responded with a soft murmur, as though the trees themselves were whispering back. But this time, the voice wasn’t just a whisper. It was louder. Clearer.

Riku.

He froze. The voice was unmistakable. It was his name, spoken softly, almost tenderly, as though the forest itself knew him.

Riku’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t spoken a word aloud in the forest, yet it knew him. He hadn’t even told anyone where he was going. There had been no signs, no indication that anyone—or anything—knew where he was.

He pressed his hand to the tree beside him, feeling the rough bark against his palm, grounding himself. “Who are you?” he demanded, his voice stronger now, more determined.

The whisper came again, almost playful this time, like a breeze rustling through the leaves. You know who I am.

Riku felt a cold shiver run through him. He didn’t know what was happening, but he knew that whatever it was, it was no ordinary force. The voice was too familiar, too knowing.

A sudden movement caught his eye—a shadow darting between the trees, too quick to catch. Riku spun toward it, his senses on high alert. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword as he prepared for whatever would come next.

For a moment, everything was still. The silence returned, as thick and oppressive as ever. Then the shadow appeared again, this time closer, darting between the fog like a wraith. It was too fast for him to catch with his eyes, but he could feel its presence, feel the weight of it pressing against him.

He stepped forward cautiously, his eyes scanning the mist, looking for any sign of movement. The air seemed to grow colder, the whispers growing louder, merging into a cacophony of voices that swirled around him.

Come closer, Riku. We’ve been waiting for you.

Riku’s pulse quickened. He was surrounded. The trees, the mist, the very ground beneath him—it was all alive, all a part of whatever force had taken hold of this place. And it was reaching for him, calling to him, pulling him deeper into its grasp.

But there was something more. Something deeper than the whispers and shadows. A presence. He could feel it pressing against his mind, like an invisible weight, pushing him toward something—something at the heart of the forest.

Without thinking, Riku moved toward the source of the feeling. His steps were automatic, his body moving as though it were guided by something beyond his control. He wasn’t sure if it was his own curiosity, or the forest’s pull on him, but he found himself walking deeper into the mist.

The whispers grew louder, more insistent, urging him forward. The air grew heavier with each step, thick with the stench of decay and rot. His skin prickled, and his senses screamed at him to stop, to turn back. But he couldn’t. The forest wouldn’t let him.

Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet gave way. Riku’s heart leapt into his throat as he stumbled forward, his foot catching on a root. He fell to the ground with a grunt, barely catching himself with his hands as he scrambled to regain his balance.

The fog had thickened, blinding him. He could hear the rustle of leaves, the crackling of branches, but everything around him was lost in the haze. His mind raced, but his body was slow to respond. Every movement felt sluggish, like he was wading through water. The forest wasn’t just alive—it was suffocating him.

In the distance, something loomed—an outline, dark and twisted against the mist. Riku’s breath caught in his throat as he realized what it was. A figure. No, not just a figure. A shape—like a person, but wrong. Its silhouette stretched and warped, flickering in and out of existence like a dream on the edge of his consciousness.

Riku…

The voice again. It was the same, but different. Warmer. Familiar. But this time, it wasn’t just a whisper. It was a command.

Riku’s chest tightened, his mind clouded with the pressure of the forest. Whatever was waiting for him, whatever force had taken hold of this place, was drawing him closer. And he had no choice but to follow.