The group descended down the slope to the right with relative ease and made their way back into the mass of trees that separated them and their destination. The forest was quieter than it should’ve been.

  Theo wiped a streak of sweat from his brow, steadying himself as he stepped over a cluster of tangled roots. His own exhaustion wasn’t from hallucinations or drug-induced fatigue—just the simple, creeping weariness of too much walking and not enough good rest.

  Dan led the way, his usual confident stride slowed just slightly, like even he was starting to feel the weight of their recent misadventure. Behind him, Ben moved with all the enthusiasm of a man dragging a boulder uphill, while Jake, despite his lethargy, kept himself entertained by loudly narrating their suffering, even as he was no longer being under the influence of the spores.

  "And so, the weary heroes pressed on," Jake announced dramatically. "Having conquered the neon nightmare of the jungle, they marched toward salvation—though at what cost?"

  Ash groaned. “For the love of God, shut your cake hole, Jake.”

  “But the people demand a tale of hardship and resilience,” Jake shot back, flipping his hair back in mock defiance.

  “I demand you walk off a cliff,” Ash grumbled.

  Ben, barely lifting his head, sighed, “Too… much effort. So hot out here.”

  Theo turned his gaze to the lumbering giant beside him, squinting at the metal-clad sauna on legs that was Ben. “Mate, why are you still wearing the armour? You do realise you’re basically slow-roasting yourself, right?”

  Ben, who had been panting like a man one step away from death, blinked. “...Huh.”

  A pause. Then, one by one, the bulky plates of his armour vanished from sight, sinking into his storage like they’d been waiting for permission to leave. Left behind was a soaked, brown shirt clinging to his absurdly broad frame, looking less like fabric and more like a wet rag trying to escape its suffering.

  Then, the shirt vanished too.

  Theo winced instinctively.

  “Oh, Jesus,” Jake muttered, shielding his eyes. “Warn a guy before you unleash the full Ben experience.”

  Ben, now standing completely topless and gleaming like an oil-rubbed statue, stretched his arms with a relieved sigh. “Hoo. Yeah. That’s much better.”

  Theo ran a hand down his face, regretting all his life choices. "I meant—leave the shirt, mate. The shirt was fine."

  Ben grinned, utterly unbothered. “What? It was wet. Can’t be walkin’ around like that, can I?”

  Ash let out a long, suffering sigh as he clasped his nose. “Were you hiding several dead animals in that shirt?”

  Ben chuckled but did not put the shirt back on.

  Theo stared ahead and kept walking. Some battles weren’t worth fighting.

  They had been walking for what felt like hours, moving through dense forest terrain as they worked their way back toward Dawnmere. The only relief came from the patches of sunlight cutting through the thick canopy, their warmth was a welcome change from the damp chill of the spore-infested section they had escaped, but it slowly started to become yet another impediment.

  Still, something wasn’t sitting right with Theo.

  He adjusted the straps of his pack, scanning the area as they walked. The woodlands weren't silent—but the sounds didn’t feel right. Every so often, a burst of movement—birds suddenly taking off in the distance, the rustling of underbrush that stopped too quickly. It wasn’t the usual hum of the undisturbed forest. It was reactive. Something was out there, moving just enough to set nature on edge.

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  His fingers twitched by his side. Instinct.

  Theo had spent enough time in a cage to know that fights weren’t just about skill—they were about reading the moment before the strike. Feeling the air shift when a punch was coming. Knowing when someone’s stance was just slightly off before they lunged.

  And right now?

  Something felt off.

  His eyes flickered to Ash, walking just ahead of him.

  Ash was tense. His head was slightly lowered, his shoulders tight, his fingers adjusting his belt like he was checking his weapons. Theo recognized that behavior—it was how fighters moved when they expected trouble.

  He wasn’t the only one feeling it.

  They kept walking.

  Dan, ever the optimist, turned slightly and clapped his hands together. “Alright, lads, let’s pick up the pace. We should be halfway back by now.”

  "Can’t feel my legs," Ben muttered.

  "Good. Less painful when they get chopped off," Ash said.

  Dan huffed. "Come on, Ash, the worst of it’s behind us. We’re out of the spores, the forest’s—"

  "Something weird is happening, I don’t think we are alone," Ash cut in, his voice low.

  Theo saw Dan hesitate.

  Just for a second.

  Then the team leader shook his head, smiling. “Man, if there was something waiting for us, wouldn’t we have seen it by now? You sound like Jake.”

  Ash didn’t respond immediately. His eyes were still moving, scanning the treeline like he was expecting something to step out.

  Theo finally spoke. “He’s right, though. Feels… wrong.”

  Dan’s expression twitched—not in anger, but like he was torn between believing them and not wanting to start paranoia.

  “Alright, I trust you guys,” Dan sighed, adjusting his sword. “We’ll stay alert. But let’s not slow down unless we’ve got a reason, yeah?”

  Jake, now walking closer to Theo, leaned in and whispered, “So… Do you think it’s like… undead or something?”

  Theo stared at Jake for a moment. “Are undead a thing now?”

  Jake shuddered dramatically. “I think so… I’ve heard… stories.”

  They walked for another twenty minutes.

  Nothing changed.

  No sudden ambush. No monstrous predator leaping from the undergrowth. No distant growls.

  Just silence.

  Theo hated it.

  His senses were still screaming that something was wrong, but there was nothing to react to. That was worse than an actual fight—waiting for a hit that might not come.

  Then it happened.

  A rustle behind them.

  Not loud, but deliberate.

  Ash froze. Theo did too.

  The others kept moving for half a second before realizing something was wrong.

  Dan turned. “What?”

  Theo held up a hand. Listened.

  Another sound. Closer now.

  Dan frowned. “Probably just an animal. Although that’s normally a bad thing too these days.”

  “No,” Ash said immediately. His fingers were already wrapped around a dagger at his belt. “That was footsteps.”

  Silence.

  A bead of sweat rolled down Theo’s temple.

  Then—nothing.

  No attack. No sudden movement.

  Just waiting.

  The forest wasn’t still—it was holding its breath.

  Dan stepped forward, positioning himself in front of the group, his voice steady but cautious. “Hello? We’re peaceful. If you need help, you’re welcome to join us.”

  Silence.

  The kind that dragged on just a little too long.

  Theo’s fingers twitched by his side. This was wrong. Even animals had instincts—if someone was just lost, they would’ve said something by now.

  Dan exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. “Alright, maybe it’s someone, maybe it’s not. But unless they plan on saying hello, we’re not standing around waiting for a jump scare.”

  Theo hesitated. His ocular implant flared but found nothing.

  Ash hesitated longer.

  But they both followed.

  And as they turned away, that feeling still clung to Theo’s spine—like a held breath waiting to be exhaled.

  And as they disappeared deeper into the forest, something stayed behind—watching. Waiting.