Sparrow Night gripped the worn leather steering wheel of their heavily modified off-road 4WD, the engine roaring as it devoured the uneven terrain. The dense canopy of the Lushwood Forest blurred into streaks of green and brown outside the window.
Beside him, Canary bounced in her seat, her usually bright eyes narrowed in concentration. The supernatural incident with the misty labyrinth had cost them precious time, and a knot of anxiety tightened in Sparrow's chest. Zeenara and her Nature Preservation Club were relying on them.
"Birdbro, faster!" Canary urged, her voice laced with concern. "Zeen and the others might be in trouble."
Sparrow grunted in acknowledgement, pressing down harder on the accelerator. He was well aware of the stakes. Zeenara was one of his sister's best friends, and the thought of her, or any of her club members, falling victim to the horror plaguing Lushwood Forest spurred him onward.
Finally, the ranger basecamp came into view, a small cluster of wooden buildings bathed in the fading light of dusk. Sparrow slammed on the brakes, the 4WD skidding to a halt in a cloud of dust. Without a word, they were out of the vehicle and moving towards the forest's edge.
"Okay, Tweety, let's do this," Sparrow said, his voice a low rumble. He reached up and took off the black eyepatch that concealed his artificial purple left eye.
The Retrocognitive Eye Implant, an artifact recovered from a forgotten ruin, allowed him to perceive echoes of the past. Combined with his mystery talent, the {Eye of Wisdom}, he hoped to pinpoint Zeenara's location.
Canary nodded, her long, braided black hair swaying with the movement. "Ink, come!" she whispered, crushing the sprite-card in her hand into glass-like pieces.
A wisp of shadow materialized, coalescing into a tiny, shadowy creature with glowing golden eyes. Ink, her new summon, a Shadow Stalker Sprite, was a reassuring companion for stealth and search functions.
"Be mindful of your Awakened Premonition, Tweety," Sparrow reminded her. Canary's passive skill, capable of sensing danger, might be their only warning against the unknown threats lurking in the woods.
They plunged into the forest, the fresh, natural aura of the day rapidly giving way to the creeping dread of night. The air grew heavy, the silence punctuated by unsettling rustles in the undergrowth.
Sparrow activated the Retrocognitive Eye Implant, his vision overlaid with ghostly images of the past. He sifted through the impressions, searching for Zeenara, for anything that could lead them to her.
Canary, with Ink perched on her shoulder, scanned their surroundings. Her brow furrowed, her green eyes darting from tree to tree. "Something's not right, Birdbro," she murmured. "I feel...unease."
Sparrow tightened his grip on the machete he carried, the simple tool designed to ease the travel across the dense forest. His mystery class, the
Following the faint echoes from the Retrocognitive Eye Implant, they pushed deeper into the woods, the trees growing taller and gnarled, their branches clawing at the sky. The forest floor was a treacherous carpet of decaying leaves and tangled roots.
"That silly girl and her silly club, choosing a campsite so far away from the basecamp." Canary grumbled as she continued walking.
Finally, they arrived at Zeenara's campsite. The scene that greeted them sent a chill down Sparrow's spine.
The campsite was a mess, tents ripped and scattered, supplies strewn across the ground. Six young people huddled together around a collapsed teenager. A flickering campfire nearby gave enough light to make the siblings see the campers' faces pale with terror.
"Ah! You two... please help!" one of the campers, a girl with short, choppy brown hair, cried out, a little relief flooding her features. "One of us is injured and another one is missing!"
Canary rushed to the unconscious boy's side. "What happened?" she asked, her voice gentle despite the urgency in her eyes. She had looked around and did not see Zeen, the only one she was familiar with.
"Something… something attacked us," a boy with glasses stammered, his voice trembling. "It came out of nowhere, hurt Woody and took away Zeen."
Canary quickly assessed the boy's injury. "This looks... treatable," she said, her brow furrowed. She reached into her pack and pulled out a roll of bandages and a small vial of herbal ointment. "I'll do what I can."
As she tended to the injured camper, Sparrow knelt beside her, his gaze sweeping over the campsite. He could feel the lingering traces of whatever had attacked them, a faint, unsettling energy that sent shivers down his spine.
"Holy, come!" Canary whispered as she crushed another sprite-card. Another wisp of light appeared and became a little glowing sprite. She ordered Holy, her Light Cleaner Sprite, to help stabilizing the injured camper's condition.
Turning to the others, Sparrow fixed them with his gaze, his right green eye piercing and his artificial purple eye intense. The scar that bisected the left side of his face seemed to deepen in the firelight, giving him an even more intimidating appearance.
"Tell me everything," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "Every detail. What did you see? What did you hear? Don't leave anything out."
The campers, still shaken, began to recount their experience. They spoke of a strange mist that had enveloped the campsite, of unsettling noises in the woods, and finally, of a creature that had emerged from the darkness, attacking without warning.
"It was…it was like something out of a nightmare," the girl with brown hair said, her voice barely a whisper. "Big, and fast, with glowing eyes… I don't know what it was."
"It went straight to Zeen and attacked Woody who tried to protect her," the boy with glasses added. "And then it knocked Zeen down and took her away quickly."
"When?"
"About... about ten to fifteen minutes. I think."
Sparrow listened intently, piecing together the fragments of their story. Zeenara's disappearance… it was definitely a surreal incident. Most likely... it truly involved Evil Hermit. He could feel it in his gut.
"Where did it took her?" Sparrow asked, his voice tight with suppressed worry.
The campers shook their heads, their faces etched with despair. "It just… vanished," the girl with brown hair said. "It was like it disappeared into thin air."
Sparrow stood up, his gaze fixed on the dark woods that surrounded the campsite. He knew that time was running out. Zeen was out there, somewhere, and he had to find her.
"Tweety, stay here and look after the injured," he said, his voice decisive. "I'm going after Zeen."
Canary looked up, her eyes filled with concern. "Birdbro, it's too dangerous to go alone."
"No choice, Tweety," Sparrow said, his voice softening. "They need protection and Zeen is counting on us. I'm equipped better for tracking." He pointed at his green eye.
Canary reluctantly nodded. "Be careful, Birdbro."
"Use your Clairvoyant Glasses and pay attention to your Awakened Premonition. Protect them," Sparrow gave quick instruction. "I'll be back as quickly as I can."
Without waiting for answers, he quickly turned and disappeared into the darkness, his silhouette swallowed by the trees.
Canary watched him go, her heart heavy with worry. She knew that Sparrow was strong, and skilled, but still...
Taking a deep breath, she focused her attention on the injured camper, her small hands moving swiftly and efficiently. She would do everything she could to help them, to give them a chance to survive. And she would trust that Sparrow, her big brother, would find Zeenara and bring her home safe.
The night was still young, and the secrets of Lushwood Forest remained shrouded in darkness. The hunt had begun.
...
Sparrow moved like a shadow through the trees, the faint moonlight filtering through the canopy barely illuminating his path. He activated the Retrocognitive Eye Implant again, his purple eye glowing faintly behind the eyepatch as he focused on the recent past.
Ghostly images flickered in his vision – the creature carrying Zeenara like a sack, the crushed undergrowth, the faint trail of some viscous substance it left behind.
He followed the trail, his senses on high alert. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the silence broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl.
He could feel the creature's presence lingering in the air, a foul stench that pricked at his nostrils. It was a scent of decay and something… else, something vicious and malevolent.
The trail led him deeper into the woods, towards a rocky outcrop that jutted out from the hillside. As he approached, he noticed a subtle shift in the air, a coldness that settled deep in his bones. He slowed his pace, his hand instinctively tightening on the machete.
He reached the base of the outcrop and saw it – a narrow opening concealed behind a thick curtain of vines. A cave. And the stench was strongest here.
Taking a deep breath, Sparrow readied himself. He knew that whatever awaited him inside, it would not be pleasant. He was not afraid though. He would not mind dealing with it bare-handedly, if he had to. He was an
He pushed aside the vines and stepped into the cave. The darkness inside was absolute, pressing in on him like a physical weight. He hesitated for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust. Then, he activated the {Eye of Wisdom}, his innate talent enhancing his senses.
The world sharpened into clarity. He could see in the darkness, the contours of the cave walls, the uneven floor, the faint gleam of moisture. And then, he saw it.
A hulking figure stood at the back of the cave, its form misshapen and grotesque. It was humanoid, but twisted and deformed, its back hunched over, its limbs unnaturally long and thin. Its body was covered in a thick, black, gooey substance that seemed to pulse with a life of its own.
The creature turned its head, its eyes glowing with a malevolent red light. It let out a guttural growl that echoed through the cave, and lunged at Sparrow with surprising speed.
Sparrow reacted instantly, his years of martial arts training kicking in. He sidestepped the creature's initial attack, narrowly avoiding its clawed hand. He struck back with a swift kick, aiming for its knee.
The creature staggered, but didn't fall. It turned towards Sparrow, its eyes burning with rage, and attacked again, its movements a blur of claws and teeth.
Sparrow dodged and weaved, blocking the creature's attacks with his forearms and elbows. He landed a few blows and machete slashes of his own, but the creature seemed impervious to pain. The black goo that covered its body absorbed the impact, cushioning it from the force of his strikes and chops.
He realized he couldn't rely on brute strength alone. He needed to find a weakness, a vulnerability. He focused his mind, using the {Eye of Wisdom} to analyze the creature's movements, its patterns, its weaknesses.
As he fought, he began to piece together a profile of the creature. The jerky, awkward movements suggested a body not originally designed for such power. The stink and the gooey substance indicated some sort of unnatural augmentation.
He could sense the pain and anger radiating from the creature, a residual echo of the hermit's tormented life.
He saw a pattern in its attacks. The creature favored brute force, but it was also surprisingly fast. It relied on overwhelming its opponents with speed and aggression.
But it was clumsy, its movements lacked precision. It was also predictable, repeating the same attack patterns over and over again. The {Eye of Wisdom} told him that it was especially weak to fire.
Knowing its weakness, Sparrow adjusted his strategy. He threw away his useless machete and focused on defense, dodging the creature's attacks and waiting for an opening. He baited it, drawing it closer, closer.
Finally, the opportunity came. The creature lunged at him, its claws outstretched. Sparrow sidestepped its attack and grabbed its arm, using his momentum to throw it off balance.
The creature stumbled, momentarily disoriented. Sparrow seized the opportunity.
He took out pieces of elemental shards from his pockets. There was one fire shard. He immediately pocketed the other shards and used the fire one.
A basketball sized fireball appeared and slammed into the disoriented creature... making it roared in pain and fear.
Sparrow rushed forward and unleashed a series of rapid-fire punches, targeting the creature's head.
The creature roared again in pain, the black goo bubbling and seething. It tried to retaliate, but Sparrow was too agile. He continued his assault, landing blow after blow.
Finally, the creature collapsed to the ground, its body twitching and spasming. Sparrow stood over it, his chest heaving, his body covered in sweat. He had won, but he knew this was not the end.
Before he could deliver the final blow, the creature suddenly dissolved into a pool of black goo. It seeped into the ground, disappearing into the earth.
Sparrow watched in disbelief. He knew the creature wasn't dead. It had escaped.
He looked around the cave, searching for Zeenara. But she wasn't there.
Sparrow cursed under his breath. The slimy trail had vanished, leaving him with nothing but a cold, empty cave and the lingering stench of decay.
Where had the creature taken Zeenara? His gaze swept across the cave floor, searching for any clue, any hint of where it might have gone.
Then he saw it. A thin crack in the back wall, almost invisible in the dim light. He moved closer, running his hand along the rough stone.
The crack widened slightly under his touch, revealing a narrow opening, actually wide enough for a man his size, or a monster the size of the one he had just fought, to squeeze through.
A secret tunnel.
He hesitated for only a moment. Every instinct screamed at him to leave, to regroup, to find Canary and come back with reinforcements. But Zeenara was out there, alone and vulnerable. He couldn't abandon her.
Taking a deep breath, he went into the opening, wincing as sharp smell of strange stink hit his nose. The tunnel was claustrophobic, the air thick with the smell of something really sinister. It was also dark, although... with his passive talent [Night Vision], it didn't really affect him.
The tunnel sloped downwards, twisting and turning through the earth. The air grew colder, the stench of decay stronger. He rounded a bend and stopped dead in his tracks.
The tunnel opened into a vast cavern, lit by a strange, pulsating light that emanated from the walls. The sight that greeted him was horrific.
The cavern floor was littered with bodies. Not animal carcasses, but human remains. The bodies were mostly female, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles, their faces contorted in expressions of unimaginable agony.
Each body bore the marks of extreme torture – burns, cuts, and mutilations that made his stomach churn.
And in the center of the carnage, lying amidst the dead, was Zeenara.
She was unconscious, her face pale and bruised, her clothes torn and stained with blood. He rushed to her side, checking for a pulse. It was weak, but there. She was alive.
Relief washed over him, so intense it almost brought him to his knees. He wanted to gather her in his arms, to hold her close and tell her everything would be alright. But he knew he couldn't. Not here.
He glanced around the cavern. The air was thick with a miasma of pain and suffering, a tangible darkness that threatened to overwhelm him.
He couldn't risk awakening Zeenara in this place. The trauma of what she had endured, combined with the oppressive atmosphere, could shatter her mind.
He made a decision. Swiftly but gently, he lifted Zeenara into his arms. She was surprisingly light, her small frame fragile against his muscular arms. He cradled her close, shielding her from the horrors around them.
Then, he turned and retraced his steps, back through the tunnel, back towards the cave. He moved as quickly as he dared, his muscles straining under Zeenara's weight.
He emerged from the tunnel, blinking in the faint moonlight. He was about to lay Zeenara down to check her injuries properly when he heard it.
Gunshots.
The sound ripped through the night, shattering the silence of the forest. They were coming from the direction of the campsite.
Canary!
His sister was alone, vulnerable. He imagined her small frame, her bright eyes wide with determination, facing whatever horrors were now unleashed upon the forest.
His chest constricted with terror. He knew he had to get to her. Now.
He looked down at Zeenara's unconscious form. He couldn't leave her here, exposed and defenseless. But he couldn't waste time trying to wake her.
Sparrow made another snap decision. He adjusted his grip, hoisting Zeenara higher on his shoulder. She was limp and unresponsive, her head lolling against his back.
He carried her like a sack of grain as he began to run. He ran towards the sound of the gunshots, towards the campsite, towards Canary.
Sparrow pushed himself harder, his muscles burning, his lungs aching. The image of his sister, her sweet smile and courageous heart, fueled his every step.
He prayed he wasn't too late.