A chilling realization cut through Sai's adrenaline-fueled haze—wolves rarely hunted alone. They thrived in packs. If one had attacked, others might not be far behind.
He had to move. Now.
Survival instincts took over. Using the jagged edge of the broken bone—the same one that had felled the beast—he hastily cut away strips of its hide and gathered a portion of meat. The gruesome task turned his stomach, but hesitation had no place in this unforgiving world. With his grim trophies in hand, he abandoned the scene, moving swiftly to erase his presence.
At the riverbank, he crouched by the water, scrubbing the blood from his body. His gaze fell to the gashes across his chest—deep, angry wounds carved by the wolf's claws. The bleeding had slowed, but the threat of infection lingered like a shadow. He needed a remedy, something to cleanse and seal the wounds. But before that, he needed shelter.
His steps grew unsteady, exhaustion clawing at his limbs. Every movement felt heavier, his vision blurring at the edges. The setting sun painted the sky in deep oranges and purples, a grim reminder that nightfall would bring even greater dangers.
Shelter. He needed it now.
The terrain was unkind—rocky, uneven, with sparse vegetation offering little protection. Just as despair began to creep in, he spotted it. Nestled among a cluster of boulders was a small opening in the rock face. A cave. Or at least, something close enough.
Sai approached cautiously, scanning for any signs of habitation. It was cramped, barely wide enough for him to squeeze through, but that was its advantage. No larger predator could fit inside.
Forcing his aching body forward, he wedged himself into the narrow space. The rough stone scraped against his wounds, but he hardly noticed. The moment he collapsed onto the cold, hard ground, his body gave in, surrendering to exhaustion.
Yet, even as sleep pulled him under, unease gnawed at his mind.Darkness consumed him.
A vast, endless void. Silent. Empty.
Then, flickers of something else—shadows twisting, shifting. A dream? A memory?
Sai drifted, weightless, as images surfaced in the abyss. Blurred figures. Distant echoes of laughter. A boy, his face indistinct, running through sun-dappled forests, his movements fluid and natural. He carried a weapon—something sleek and deadly—his posture filled with an effortless confidence Sai couldn't comprehend. The scene shifted.
The boy now stood over a fallen beast, its blood soaking the earth. A victorious smirk tugged at his lips, though his features remained obscured, slipping away whenever Sai tried to focus. Others surrounded him, their forms vague, their voices mere murmurs against the howling wind.
The memory wavered, like a mirage in the heat.
Another shift—this time, the boy stood alone beneath a night sky, his weapon still slick with blood. His gaze lifted to the stars, something unreadable in his posture. Longing? Regret? The emotions twisted, unformed, slipping between the cracks of memory before Sai could grasp them.
A sharp, piercing agony shot through his skull, tearing through the dream. The vision of those burning eyes flashed once more, severing the fragmented past like a knife through silk.
"Power is not control... It is a key... A key to unlock the mysteries within you..."
The words pulsed through his mind, vibrating through the void. The pressure built, something inside him stirring, awakening. The dream shattered, leaving only a whisper of the past clinging to the edges of his mind. Then, silence.
Sai's breath hitched as his consciousness teetered between waking and something far beyond his understanding.
Something was changing. And soon, he would know what.
He lingered in the darkness of his consciousness, his breath coming in ragged, angry huffs. A thousand questions burned within him, clamoring for answers.
He wanted to scream into the void, to demand an explanation for the fragmented message, for the burning eyes, for everything he had experienced since his death.
He wanted to ask what he was, to understand the meaning behind those cryptic words. But before he could utter a single syllable, he was yanked back into the harsh reality of his physical form.
His eyes snapped open, his body drenched in cold sweat. He lay in the cramped cave, heart pounding against his chest like a trapped bird, the rhythmic thumping echoing in his ears.
The sense of time had blurred, swallowed by the suffocating void he'd been lost in. Was it minutes? Hours? Or perhaps even days? The uncertainty gnawed at his mind. With trembling hands, he pushed himself upright, every muscle protesting, stiff and aching as though the very act of moving defied his will.
Crawling toward the cave entrance, he cautiously peeked outside. The thick, oppressive darkness of the night was beginning to recede, a faint sliver of light piercing the horizon. Dawn was near.
His body felt surprisingly refreshed, as if he had awakened from a long, healing rest. But when his eyes fell on the wounds across his chest—still raw from the wolf's claws—he froze. No blood, no scarring, no sign of the brutal struggle. They had vanished completely, as though the fight had never happened at all.
A sense of unease stirred deep within him. The events of the previous day flooded his mind: the ferocious wolf, the desperate struggle for survival, the crushing weight of the dying beast in his arms. But most of all, it was the eyes—the ancient, soul-piercing eyes—that haunted his thoughts.
He shut his eyes tightly, trying to summon that overwhelming presence again. The sensation of power that had radiated from those eyes—raw, unfathomable, and absolute—felt just out of reach, like a whisper fading in the wind. He shivered, unable to shake the feeling that something far beyond his understanding had been awakened within him.