As the sun began to fade, a vaguely familiar man with blonde hair and mustache navigated a small, rickety vehicle down a winding cliffside road. The car-like machine, stripped of any outer shell, exposed its motor, wiring, and skeletal frame to the elements. It wasn’t particularly fast or slow, but it held strong against every shake and bump along the rugged path. The little car held strong, descending steadily down the road that overlooked the eerie glow of the Primodía Abyssal Forest below.

Dusk was now shrouding the land in deep shadows, cutting through the glimmers of the shattered sky with darkness. The distant crimson glow cast the landscape in a shade of bloody gloom. The once-refreshing winds had turned biting cold, and the barren terrain was devoid of sound, save for the distant howls of the wind. Weary and tense, the man glanced up at the fractured sky, his mismatched eyes reflecting the fracture in the sky as its jagged lines were coated by clouds. Hesitating for a moment, he reached for the blinker switch, then twisted it on, casting weak, mellow beams ahead of him, sacrificing the comfort of invisibility for a clearer view of the rough road.

He was carefully making his way down the cliffside road before he stopped, his eyes drawn to the faint, pulsating glow of the Primodía Forest far below. The forest’s eerie, low light, hues of glowing pinks and purples flickered against the massive bubbles of water floating above the Kyyr-dense landscape. The sight was mesmerizing, casting the man’s round glasses in a shimmering reflection. He took a deep breath; the rhythmic glow mirrored on his lenses like a living heartbeat. With a sigh, he released the brake, allowing the rickety car to continue its descent further down.

How stupid of me... he thought bitterly, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. The tight corners and jagged cliffs kept him on edge, his grip tightening on the wheel. He stole a quick glance at the old collection of history books, gadgets, and dried plants he had gathered. Determined to make it home, he let off the break more, letting gravity pull the rickety little car down the hill faster.

The cold night air began to cut through him, biting into his skin as the humidity thickened around him. He shuddered, feeling the chill seep into his bones. Condensation gathered on the windshield, clouding his view, while the old car’s wipers sputtered uselessly, failing to clear.

“Shit!” he muttered under his breath, slowing the car as he ever-diligently signaled—despite there being no one around—that he was pulling over to the side of the road. Once parked, he fumbled in the dark until his fingers found a small, sleek device that shimmered faintly in the dim light. It was flat and crystal-like, with a smooth display. He tapped the screen until it hummed softly, then pressed it to his ears. He waited and waited, but there was no response.

“Answer, please...” he whimpered softly under his breath. Desperately, he tinkered with the device, adjusting it until he pressed it back against his ears. It rang. He waited, holding his breath as the sound stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity. The forest below remained eerily still, but in his mind, the alien glow seemed to beat faster and faster, keeping pace with his rising anxiety.

Finally, a female voice broke the silence. “Hello?”

“Lena! I need your help!” The man called out in a hushed tone, his eyes darting around the encroaching darkness.

“What’s wrong, Dad?” Lena replied, confused by the unexpected late-night call.

“There were Rak’da near St. Able’s Pass. I couldn’t make it through on time so I tried passing through the Cau cliff pass. And—”

“Wait, dad, where are you right now?!” Lena interrupted, her voice rising with concern.

“I’m on the road that passes by the Primodía Forest... but the abyssal condensation is about as thick as when the Translate was active!” he whispered urgently into the device, his lips trembling as the reality of the situation sank in.

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“What?! What’s the forest’s state?” Lena’s voice wavered, the panic clear as sounds of movement crackled through the line.

“It was glowing faintly like normal, but now that I’m down here, the abyssal condensation seems to have worsened. What do I do?” her father whimpered, fear gripping his voice.

“Dad, you need to raise your Kyyr and start ascending up the cliff, now,” she instructed, trying to remain calm. He could hear the roar of her motorcycle in the background. “Stay on the line with me, alright?”

“Y-yes,” Mr. Russo stammered, his voice shaking as beads of sweat dribbled down his face, clinging to his mustache. The abyss seemed to wrap around him, its oppressive presence growing stronger. He slowly adjusted the vehicle, turning it to face back up the cliff. "Lena, I’m having a hard time seeing,” he muttered, his anxiety creeping into his voice.

“What’s wrong, dad?” Lena asked, her voice edged with concern.

“The windshield wipers aren’t working! I can’t see!” he replied, anxiety gripping his throat.

“Break it.” She said bluntly.

“What?”

“Smash the windshield and get out!” Lena ordered, her voice growing sharper, more urgent.

“B-but the noise...” Mr. Russo whimpered, his hands trembling as it rested on the foggy windshield.

“Fuck the noise, Dad, smash it!” Lena’s voice cracked, panic rising as she heard the fear in his voice.

His hand hovered over the windshield, Kyyr welling up in his hand—but then he froze. An ancient, primal instinct—one that had survived the 15 million years separating him from the first humans—blared in his mind. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, as the unmistakable feeling of being watched filled him with dread. His hand shook violently as he scanned the darkness around him.

He saw it.

In the blurry reflection of his rearview mirror, faintly illuminated by a mix of his car’s red taillights, the crimson sky, and the pink glow of the forest, a gaunt pale figure stood motionless.

“Dad?! Dad, are you there?” Lena’s voice cracked through the device. “ Dad, answer me!” she screamed, her voice hoarse with desperation.

Mr. Russo slowly wiped the condensation from the rearview mirror, his breath catching as he locked eyes with his own reflection. But in the gloom of his peripheral, there stood the thing. He tried not to look, but the pull of the abyss was far greater than the timid man’s will. His eyes drifted drawn to the creature’s visage, and in that moment—when their gazes locked—his instincts to survive took over. Without a second thought, he concentrated Kyyr into his hand and smashed the windshield with a loud, shattering crash.

The once timid Mr. Russo floored the pedal, the little car roaring up the cliffside to the best of its abilities. His eyes focused on the road ahead, refusing to glance at the mirror again as the adrenaline surged through him. He climbed higher, faster, his grip on the wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white.

“Dad? Are yo—” Lena’s voice was abruptly cut off as the small crystal device bounced to the floor of the vehicle.

The forest below seemed to violently react, as the glow from below was now flashing in and out. Like a violent strobe light that existed to blind the poor man as he tried to keep his eye on the road. A ghastly screech echoed from behind, matching the erratic strobe-like flashes of the forest’s light. Mr. Russo’s heart pounded as the predatory gaze of the unknown bore into his back, the sensation almost physical as it urged him to push the vehicle to its limits.

Nearing the top of the cliff, the road turned into a jagged, rocky maze, crowned with treacherous, winding paths. The road twisted violently, barely drivable as Mt. Russo fought to navigate each turn, the wheels bouncing so fiercely they threatened to send him crashing into the rocky jaws surrounding him.

A rock flew from behind, slamming painfully into his back, but he didn’t dare to slow down, his entire being locked on the desire to survive. As he ascended, he could now hear the guttural cackling of Rak'da near the summit. His brain surged with possibilities, granting him a fleeting moment of clarity beyond pure survival. He risked a glance at the rearview mirror—there it was. Its form was a shadowy blur, looming at the edge of the darkness. The creature's head was unnaturally elongated, its jaw grotesquely unhinged, hanging in a swaying, limp mess of jagged teeth.

With adrenaline coursing through his veins, Mr. Russo made his choice. He’d rather face the Rak’da ahead, because whatever was following him was far worse—something he couldn’t afford to face. An unknown.