The journey to the foreign tribe was grueling. The rain had turned the jungle into a treacherous maze, the mud sucking at their feet with every step.
Their ragged guides moved effortlessly through the undergrowth, their eyes sharp and knowing.
The survivors, however, stumbled behind, weighed down by exhaustion, fever, and the sheer unknown of what awaited them.
Athena stayed at the rear, her senses tingling with unease. Something was wrong.
The way the guides glanced at them, assessing, calculating, sent an icy chill through her spine. But she said nothing. Not yet. After what felt like hours, they arrived.
The tribe's settlement was hidden deep within the jungle, encircled by towering wooden stakes sharpened into deadly points.
Inside, crude huts made of woven leaves and bones stood in tight clusters, the air thick with the scent of smoke and something… rotten.
Athena's heart clenched as she took in the surroundings. Bones. They were scattered everywhere.
