With deliberate, measured steps, Seren traversed the lifeless expanse of the ashen forest.
Each footfall was met with the soft crunch of brittle twigs and bone fragments buried beneath the soot-laden soil.
The trees—gnarled and twisted—arched like ancient sentinels overhead, their bark pale as corpses, their branches clawing at the sky with skeletal fingers.
She moved in silence, her crimson eyes scanning the unnatural stillness around her.
But she wasn't alone.
The presence of unseen things made itself known—low rustles, the sharp crack of dry branches under unseen weight, the faint reverberation of footsteps that did not match her own.
Not human.
No… something else.
Her senses, honed to an unnatural degree, traced dozens of these phantom presences lurking in the shadows. Watching. Waiting. Their eyes—though invisible—felt like needles threading into her skin.
Still, Seren kept walking.
She gave them time.
Time to strike.
To make their move.
To reveal themselves.
