When I came to, coarse grains of sand clung to my skin, gritty and uncomfortable. Something cold and wet licked at my hair through the gaps in my armor—definitely not the wake-up call I was expecting. I jerked upright, blinking against the bright, dappled light filtering through the canopy of trees high above me. The sky was barely visible through a tangled web of vines and massive leaves, wrapping the world in a suffocating, alive stillness.
The air was thick with humidity, clinging to my skin, and every breath tasted faintly of damp moss and decay.
The book was gone. And so was the library.
Instead, I was surrounded by a jungle that felt anything but inviting. Towering trees loomed overhead like silent sentinels, their twisted, gnarled bark swallowed in thick layers of moss. Broad, waxy leaves shimmered with moisture, and every shadow seemed to hold a pair of unseen eyes, watching, waiting. The oppressive silence was broken only by the rustle of unseen creatures, the low hum of insects, and the occasional cry of a bird—or something pretending to be one.
Blake lay crumpled on the ground a few feet away, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. I should’ve felt relief seeing her alive, but... Instead, an odd indifference settled over me, like her survival was just another problem I didn’t need. Whatever connection we’d shared back in the library had already begun to fray, and the pull of the jungle was stronger than anything tying me to her.
I stood, brushing sand from my armor, and turned my back on her.
I ran.
The forest swallowed me whole. Thick undergrowth clawed at my legs like greedy hands, but I pushed through, the thrill of leaving Blake and her baggage behind flooding my veins. Her boyfriend. Her warnings. All of it felt like chains I’d just snapped, and I wasn’t about to let that feeling go. Each breath felt charged, like the air was buzzing with possibility. My gut told me I was meant to be here, and I trusted it.
But where was I supposed to go?
Dense foliage stretched endlessly in every direction, each path as tangled and uncertain as the last. The jungle seemed alive, whispering, urging me deeper, though I had no clue where it wanted me to go.
Then, in the corner of my vision, a flicker of light.
Malice’s map shimmered into view, ghostly outlines of the jungle spreading before me like a puzzle waiting to be solved.
[Oh sure, run off into the jungle without a plan,] Malice sneered, his voice a cold smirk that practically oozed superiority. [No way that'll backfire. But hey, who needs strategy when you've got raw vibes, right?]
I huffed, forcing a smirk. "Look, I don’t know why I did it," I muttered, dodging a low-hanging vine dripping with dew. "But if it was such a problem, you could’ve just told me not to. I do listen to you, you know?"
[Right, because that’s worked so well in the past. Hold on, let me take notes for your next brilliant decision.]
I rolled my eyes. Of course, Malice had a point—it didn’t mean I had to like it.
[Sure, but let’s backtrack. You had a feeling and decided it was a good idea despite someone else telling you not to? That’s beyond stupid. That’s like not believing in allergies levels of stupid.]
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"Allergies?" I frowned. "What the hell are allergies?"
Malice groaned, his voice laced with the kind of long-suffering irritation that made it clear this conversation was beneath him. [Oh, great. Add ignorance to the list of your glowing achievements. You’re practically a walking PSA for why evolution needs a refund.]
I rolled my eyes but didn’t reply. My focus shifted back to the map. The ghostly outline of the jungle sprawled before me, dotted with faint landmarks: dense groves, a winding river, a clearing here and there. One, in particular, stood out—a ruin tucked deep into the heart of the jungle. Its outline resembled an ancient fort, half-hidden under layers of time and decay.
Perfect.
The jungle thickened as I pressed forward, the air growing heavier with each step. Roots twisted up from the ground like skeletal fingers, snagging at my boots and threatening to trip me. Above, the canopy was a patchwork of light and shadow, where sunlight pierced through in narrow shafts, giving the greenery an eerie golden glow. Sweat slicked my skin, mingling with the dampness in the air, while the cloying scent of rotting vegetation clung to me like a second layer of armor.
When I reached the ruins, they were almost invisible at first, concealed by creeping vines and towering foliage. Stone walls, once proud and formidable, now crumbled beneath the relentless grip of the jungle. The fort’s towers were broken, its gates rusted into uselessness, yet something about the place still felt imposing. It stood like a defiant relic, resisting the jungle’s slow conquest.
I stepped inside, bracing myself for the rush of danger, the thrill of discovery.
Nothing.
The air inside was heavy and still, pressing against my ears in an oppressive quiet. The fort’s hollowed-out interior sprawled before me—a cracked floor littered with debris, fragments of a forgotten past. The walls bore faint scars where time and nature had waged war, leaving only emptiness in their wake. No treasure. No monsters. Just silence.
Frustration twisted in my gut. My eyes darted from corner to corner, scanning every shadow, every fractured piece of stone, as though I could will something to materialize. But there was nothing here. Nothing to explain the pull that had dragged me to this place, or the gnawing feeling in the back of my mind that I was missing something crucial.
Always one step behind.
I moved to leave, but my steps slowed. Blake.
She had to be nearby.
A knot tightened in my chest as I thought about her, sharp-faced and ever-watchful. Something about her had been off since we’d arrived in the jungle—or maybe since the library. I couldn’t pin it down, but the sensation lingered, like the electric stillness before a storm.
Crouching low, I scanned the area for any sign of her, my senses tuned to the oppressive quiet. The jungle seemed to hold its breath, the trees frozen as though waiting for something. But there was nothing. No movement, no sound except for the steady thrum of blood in my ears. When I was sure she wasn’t following me, I slipped out of the ruins, heading in the opposite direction from where I’d last seen her.
There was something unnerving about Blake. More unnerving, even, than the jungle or the ruins. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew one thing for certain: whatever it was, I didn’t want to find out.
I followed the map to a looming mountain, its jagged peak slicing into the sky like a black tooth. At its base, several cave entrances gaped like the mouths of some waiting beast, their darkness promising all the shadowed dangers I wanted no part of.
No.
The memory of the mainpede and the suffocating tunnels I’d barely escaped was still too fresh, coiling in the back of my mind like a phantom. My skin crawled just thinking about it—the damp, clinging air, the sound of chittering claws echoing in the dark.
I shuddered, forcing the thought aside. No way was I stepping foot into another cave—not unless I’d decided I had a death wish.
The open air was a relief after the relentless chaos of the last floor. The island, for all its eerie emptiness, felt different. Less oppressive. The sky stretched wide above me, a shifting canvas of gray and pale gold, and the fresh, salty tang of the breeze was a welcome reprieve from the claustrophobic crush of walls and darkness.
It was almost peaceful.
Almost.
But there was a weight to the silence here, a tension that hummed beneath the surface. The mountain loomed like a sentinel, its shadow stretching long and far, as if daring me to come closer. I adjusted my grip on my weapon, trying to shake the feeling that I was being watched.