Arlen trudged through the forest, the eerie silence around him gnawing at his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how long he had been walking—hours, maybe? Time seemed to lose its meaning in a place where the sun barely penetrated the skeletal canopy above. The darkness had become his constant companion, but it didn’t bother him as much anymore.

In fact, it almost felt… natural.

Fenri padded quietly beside him, the wolf’s black fur melding seamlessly with the shadows. Arlen glanced down at his companion, finding comfort in the wolf’s presence. At least he wasn’t alone in this strange place.

But what was this place?

The forest stretched endlessly in all directions, and Arlen had yet to find any sign of civilization. No roads. No ruins. No smoke rising from distant chimneys. Just trees. Dead, lifeless trees. The thought of being trapped here, lost in a world he didn’t understand, sent a chill through him.

As he walked, he noticed the shadows around him seemed to stretch and twist, almost as if they were alive, responding to his movements. At first, he dismissed it as a trick of the light—or rather, the lack of it. But the more he observed, the more he realized it was no illusion.

The shadows were following him.

Every step he took, they shifted in ways that didn’t match the direction of the faint light filtering through the trees. At times, they elongated unnaturally, trailing after him like ink spilled on the ground. And when he stopped to inspect them, they stilled—almost as if they were waiting.

‘Is this part of the… Shadow Manipulation?’ he wondered, his thoughts returning to the status screen he had seen earlier. He hadn’t experimented much with his abilities yet, but something told him these shadows weren’t acting on their own. It was him. His body. His nature.

Instinctively, he reached out with his hand, watching as the shadows near his feet rippled in response. They moved—not in a natural way, but in a way that obeyed him. Like they were waiting for a command.

‘What else can I do with this?’ he thought.

He was about to test it when a sharp crack split the air. Fenri’s ears perked up, and Arlen’s instincts kicked in. Without thinking, he crouched low, his body moving fluidly, blending into the shadows as if by second nature.

The forest remained silent, but Arlen stayed in his crouched position, hardly daring to breathe. The shadows seemed to welcome him, wrapping around him like a protective veil. He could feel it now—this wasn’t just hiding. It was something more. His body seemed to merge with the darkness, his form becoming harder to distinguish from the surrounding night.

‘This must be Stealth,’ he realized, his heart pounding. He hadn’t even thought about using it, yet here he was, cloaked in shadow like a predator waiting to strike. ‘Is it a skill that I obtained or is it just naturally part of what I am? Can others obtain this skill or just me?’ Arlen quickly stashed that train of thought for now.

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Fenri stood still beside him, head low, eyes focused on the direction of the noise. The wolf was tense but silent, as if sensing the same danger. Arlen’s muscles tightened, and he strained to listen for any movement. Whatever had caused the noise was close, and it wasn’t a coincidence.

A rustling sound echoed from the trees ahead. It was faint, but unmistakable. Something was moving in the underbrush.

Without thinking, Arlen reached for his knife, but his hand grasped only air. Panic briefly flared in his chest—he had forgotten the knife wasn’t on him. It was stored in the strange Inventory system.

‘Dammit, I need it,’ he thought desperately.

And then, before he could even process what was happening, the familiar weight of the knife materialized in his hand. His eyes widened in shock as he stared at the blade, still cold and sharp in his grip. He hadn’t physically drawn it—he had willed it into existence, pulling it straight from the Inventory.

‘How did I…?’

He barely had time to process the strange new development when the rustling grew louder. Something was getting closer.

Arlen gritted his teeth, crouching lower with the knife ready. His mind raced, trying to understand how he had just summoned the weapon, but the immediate threat took precedence. He could figure out the mechanics of the Inventory later—right now, survival was all that mattered.

Another rustle. Closer this time.

He and Fenri crept forward, closer to the source of the sound, their steps silent as the shadows enveloped them.

Then, in a flash, something darted from the underbrush—a small, panicked creature bolting from cover. Arlen’s heart pounded, but he quickly realized it was no threat. Just a rabbit—or something resembling one—frantically fleeing through the forest.

Fenri’s instincts flared. Before Arlen could stop him, the wolf shot forward at an alarming speed, teeth flashing as he lunged at the fleeing rabbit. It was over in an instant. Fenri clamped down on the creature’s neck, silencing it with a sharp snap.

The wolf padded back to Arlen, carrying the limp rabbit in his jaws. Fenri stopped in front of him, eyes expectant, and placed the dead creature at Arlen’s feet.

Arlen blinked, staring down at the rabbit’s lifeless body. The wolf was offering it to him, like a prize. But as Arlen gazed at the rabbit, a strange realization settled over him.

He wasn’t hungry.

It hit him suddenly. He had been here for… how long? Hours, maybe days. And yet he hadn’t felt a single pang of hunger. No thirst. No fatigue, beyond the faintest twinge in his muscles after running for miles.

‘Do I… not need to eat anymore?’

The thought chilled him. In his human life, hunger had been a constant reminder of his body’s needs. But now… this body of shadows seemed to have none of those needs. At least, not food. He didn’t know what he required to survive here.

Looking down at Fenri, he shook his head. “That one’s all yours, buddy,” he said softly.

Fenri didn’t hesitate. The wolf tore into the rabbit, devouring it with swift efficiency. Bones cracked under Fenri’s teeth, and blood spattered the ground.

Arlen watched, unmoved.

He had seen gore before—plenty of it. As a paramedic, he had worked in the aftermath of horrific accidents. As a Ranger, he had been in combat, seen death up close. But this was different.

There was no emotion. No disgust. No pity for the dead creature lying in a pool of its own blood.

Arlen’s stomach didn’t twist. His heart didn’t lurch. He felt nothing.

He was unnerved, not because of the sight, but because whatever had changed his body could have affected his mind as well.