Doeg laid completely still.
Not the kind of stillness someone forced upon themselves for a few seconds for a party game, but the suffocating stillness of someone who understood that even the smallest movement might kill him.
Mud coated his entire body, packed thick against his skin. Wet leaves clung to his arms and shoulders, their cold edges pressing against him like damp fingers. The smell of soil filled his nose—rotting vegetation, stagnant water, and the faint metallic scent of blood.
He had buried himself into the earth as best he could.
Even breathing felt dangerous.
His chest rose slowly… painfully slowly… each inhale measured and silent.
He did not blink.
He barely allowed his lungs to expand.
Around him, the forest had gone unnaturally quiet.
No insects.
No wind.
No movement.
Just the heavy, oppressive silence of a predator that knew its prey was near.
Doeg's fingers dug slightly into the soil beneath him as he forced himself to remain calm.
Don't move.
Don't breathe.
Don't exist.
Beside him, somewhere beneath another pile of mud and broken foliage, two other survivors lay hidden as well.
Three.
Out of twenty-four.
The thought crawled through Doeg's mind like a slow poison.
Three survivors.
They had started this hunt with confidence.
With preparation.
With numbers.
Now they had none of those things.
It had begun days ago.
The beast had first been sighted near the outskirts of their territory.
A tiger.
But the word barely captured what it truly was.
The creature was massive—larger than any tiger Doeg had ever imagined. Its muscles rolled beneath striped fur like coiled steel cables, and every movement carried terrifying precision.
It wasn't just strong.
It was aware.
The first group that discovered it had quickly realized something important.
This was not a beast that could be hunted alone.
It was faster than most of them.
Stronger than nearly all of them.
And far more intelligent than anything they had fought before.
So they had done the sensible thing.
They called for reinforcements.
For days they stalked it.
Watched it.
Studied its patterns.
Its patrol routes.
Its hunting style.
Its moments of rest.
They set traps.
Prepared ambush points.
Planned countermeasures for every possible reaction they could think of.
Doeg had even taken charge of keeping their presence hidden while they shadowed the beast from a distance.
They followed it nearly seven miles away from their stronghold before the reinforcements finally arrived.
Eighteen new recruits.
None of them experienced members of the Chamber.
Fresh blood.
But numbers mattered.
Together they had attacked.
For a brief moment, it had almost seemed possible. A beautiful lie they had told themselves.
The forest exploded with noise as twenty-four people descended upon a single beast.
Weapons flashed.
Abilities ignited.
The tiger roared.
And then everything collapsed.
Less than an hour later, the forest had become a graveyard.
The tiger had moved through them like a storm.
Fast.
Precise.
Merciless.
Doeg could still hear the screams.
Still see bodies being thrown aside like broken tools. Still remember the faces.
Still remember the moment he realized they had made a terrible mistake.
The creature wasn't just powerful.
It was vengeful.
And it remembered.
When they finally fled, broken and scattered, they had hoped the beast would abandon the chase.
It didn't.
For three days the tiger had followed them.
Relentlessly.
Every attempt to lose it had failed.
They took detours.
Passed through narrow ravines.
Crossed streams to hide their scent.
Even doubled back at times.
None of it mattered.
The tiger always found them again.
Now it had cornered them.
And Doeg lay buried in the dirt, praying to a god he didn't believe in. He wasn't an atheist, but could find where to place his faith on at that moment.
A soft crunch echoed nearby.
The tiger stepped into view.
Even lying flat against the earth, Doeg could see it through the thin layer of leaves covering his face.
It stood barely fifteen meters away.
Massive.
Terrifying.
Its golden eyes scanned the forest slowly. The same eyes the owl had.
Patient.
Its nose lifted slightly as it sniffed the air.
Doeg felt sweat trickle down his temple.
Don't move. His thoughts almost echoed out.
The tiger's ears twitched.
It inhaled again.
Long.
Deep.
Then its head slowly turned.
And its gaze locked onto something.
Doeg's stomach dropped.
It knows.
The tiger exploded into motion.
The speed was unreal.
One moment it stood still.
The next it was already mid-leap.
It slammed toward a partially collapsed rock formation nearby.
A man hidden beneath it barely had time to react.
A warning shout erupted from the third survivor.
"MOVE—!"
The tiger's claws sliced downward.
Stone shattered.
The man beneath the rock rolled away just in time, though blood sprayed into the air as the claws grazed his shoulder.
The illusion of safety shattered instantly.
"RUN!"
All three of them burst from their hiding spots.
Branches snapped beneath their feet as they sprinted through the forest.
Behind them, the tiger roared.
And gave chase.
Doeg ran.
His lungs burned.
His legs felt like molten iron.
But he didn't dare slow down. He didn't dare think of doing so.
Behind them the tiger moved like a living nightmare, weaving effortlessly through the trees.
Every few seconds the distance between them shrank.
The other two survivors ran ahead of him.
One stumbled briefly but caught himself before falling. Fear often caused feats and failures to become common.
None of them spoke.
There was nothing left to say.
They all understood the truth.
It was only a matter of time.
And that knowledge weighed on every step they took.
***
Three days earlier…
Mira walked alone.
It had been three days since she escaped the collapsing corridor.
Three days since the owl vanished into the crumbling illusion it had created.
Three days since the endless chain of memories that forced her to question whether her past had ever truly been her own, whether reality was actually there, or whether she was drunk on air.
The forest stretched endlessly around her.
Empty.
Silent.
She hadn't seen a single person.
Only a handful of weak beasts that scattered the moment they sensed her presence.
At first she wondered if she had somehow entered another corridor.
Another prison built from lies and memories.
But she quickly dismissed the thought.
The suffocating pressure that once surrounded her was gone.
When she had been inside the corridor, it always felt like the world was closing in around her.
Like living inside a sealed box. A cage.
But now…
The forest felt open.
Endless.
Real.
Which raised a troubling question.
Why was she so alone?
Mira paused on a ridge overlooking several branching paths.
Her eyes swept across them carefully.
Some were blocked by thick vines and fallen trees.
Others disappeared into swamp water.
One path was littered with dried blood and broken weapons.
She grimaced.
"Down the path of dead dreams it is…"
She didn't choose it out of morbid curiosity, at least not entirely.
It was simply the straightest path.
And right now she valued efficiency more than optimism. A crooked smile found its way onto her face.
Just as she prepared to continue walking, something caught her attention.
Far in the distance, a dark shape moved along the horizon.
It was small.
Too far away to identify.
Mira narrowed her eyes briefly.
Then shrugged.
Probably just another wandering beast. Or a fly a few yards away capitalising on her broken psyche.
She resumed walking.
***
Far away, Saul moved like a blade cutting through the forest.
His recovery had restored his strength—and with it the relentless efficiency of Pluto's mark-
Predators were drawn toward him constantly.
One after another.
But instead of avoiding them, Saul hunted them. And with a dangerous glee.
His movements were precise.
Fluid.
No wasted motion.
A beast lunged.
Saul stepped aside.
His arm moved once.
The creature collapsed.
Behind him, Pluto followed silently.
Where Saul created chaos, Pluto finished the work. An apprentice of a mad workman.
Whenever a wounded beast tried to crawl away, Pluto ended it quickly.
Cleanly.
Efficiently.
It wasn't even noon yet.
And more than thirty cores lay scattered across the forest floor.
Pluto crouched beside one of the fallen beasts and pulled the glowing core from its chest.
But his attention wasn't fully on the hunt.
He was watching Saul.
Studying him.
Pluto understood something important.
Sooner or later, he might have to fight this man. Young man...
And when that moment came, knowledge would be the difference between life and death.
As he observed Saul, Pluto noticed something strange.
Subtle.
But impossible to ignore once seen.
When Saul moved, the world seemed to hesitate.
Leaves lingered in the air a moment longer than they should.
Dust drifted slowly around his body.
Even falling debris seemed to delay its descent near him.
Almost as if the environment itself was reacting to him.
Or bending around him.
Pluto frowned slightly. His thoughts foggy.
He wanted to think about it more.
But the forest gave him no time.
Another beast lunged from the undergrowth.
Pluto moved instantly, carefully.
***
Elsewhere in the forest, a girl ran.
Her breathing was ragged.
Her legs trembled with exhaustion as they planted down on soil.
Every muscle in her body screamed for rest.
But she kept running.
Behind her, the forest rustled violently.
Predators.
Several of them.
The mark on her body burned faintly.
Drawing them closer.
Her vision blurred from fatigue as she forced her legs to keep moving.
Just a little further…
Branches tore at her clothes.
Mud splashed beneath her feet.
The sound of pursuit grew louder.
Closer.
Closer.
Just as the first beast burst from the bushes behind her—
She saw someone.
A figure standing ahead on the path.
Another girl.
Mira.