Riven didn't look back again. Not because he didn't want to, but because he knew it would slow him down. The moment you start looking back, you start hesitating. And hesitation, right now, felt like the worst possible choice he could make. The narrow path he followed curved unevenly between the houses, dirt packed down from years of use, though never maintained. It wasn't meant for escape. It was meant for daily life—small routines, quiet movement, nothing urgent. But now every step he took along it felt different, like the ground itself had changed without actually changing. Behind him, the noise hadn't faded. It had spread. The village wasn't one place anymore—it was fragments of panic stitched together by sound. A shout here, something breaking there, the distant crackle of fire beginning to take hold somewhere out of sight. He didn't need to see it to know. That part came too easily. His breathing stayed controlled, but only just. There was a tightness in his chest that wouldn't go away, something between fear and recognition. Not full memory, not even close—but enough to guide him in a direction he couldn't fully explain. The forest ahead grew larger with every step. Darker, too. Not because the sun had changed, but because the trees swallowed light in a way that felt deliberate. Most people avoided going too far inside. That had always been the case. Riven knew that. Or at least, he knew it in the way you know something without remembering how you learned it. He slowed slightly as he approached the edge where the last house gave way to open ground. This part of the village had fewer people even on normal days. Now, it was nearly empty. A cart lay tipped over to one side, one of its wheels still spinning faintly, as if it had been abandoned in a hurry. Riven's eyes moved quickly, scanning. Nothing immediate. That didn't mean safe. It just meant unseen. He stepped past the cart, boots brushing against loose dirt and scattered grain that had spilled out unnoticed. The forest line stood just ahead now, quiet in a way that didn't feel natural. No birds. No insects. Just stillness. He hesitated for half a second. Then moved forward. The moment he crossed into the shade of the trees, the air shifted. Cooler, heavier. The sounds of the village dulled slightly, like they were being absorbed rather than fading naturally. It didn't feel like entering safety. It felt like stepping into something unknown. Riven didn't slow down. Not yet. The ground here was uneven, roots pushing through the soil in places that forced him to adjust his steps. Branches hung low, leaves brushing lightly against his shoulders as he passed. The deeper he went, the less visible the village became behind him. Eventually, it disappeared completely. Only the sounds remained. And even those began to thin out. He stopped after a while. Not because he wanted to—but because he had to. His body needed it. The constant movement, the tension, the forced focus—it all caught up at once. He leaned lightly against a tree, breathing out slowly, trying to steady himself without losing awareness of his surroundings. Silence settled around him again. Real silence this time. Not the wrong kind from earlier. Just… quiet. His thoughts, however, were anything but. "This doesn't feel right either," he murmured under his breath. The words sounded too loud in the stillness. He pushed off the tree and looked around. Nothing obvious. No movement, no sound, no sign of anything following him. But that didn't mean much. It just meant he hadn't seen it yet. Riven took a few more steps forward, slower now, more careful. Running blindly had gotten him here. It wouldn't keep him alive if something was already inside the forest with him. The ground dipped slightly ahead, forming a shallow slope. He followed it without thinking too much about direction. There was no clear path, no signposts, nothing to guide him except instinct—and whatever fragments of understanding still lingered somewhere in the back of his mind. A faint flicker crossed his vision again. This time, it lingered just a fraction longer. [Condition Unstable] The words were the same as before. No explanation. No context. Riven exhaled quietly. "Yeah. Still not helpful." The text disappeared, leaving behind that same subtle pressure, like something trying to connect but failing halfway through. He didn't stop moving. Thinking about it too much felt pointless right now. Whatever that "condition" was, it wasn't giving him anything he could actually use. Not yet. He moved deeper into the forest, the light thinning above him as the canopy grew thicker. Time became harder to track. Minutes felt longer here. Or maybe shorter. It was difficult to tell. Eventually, the ground leveled out again. Riven slowed, his steps becoming quieter as he adjusted without realizing it. Something had changed. Not in the environment. In the feeling. That uneasiness from before—it was back. Different this time. Sharper. More focused. He stopped. Listened. Nothing. Then— A faint sound. Not loud. Not close. But there. Riven turned slightly, eyes narrowing as he tried to pinpoint it. Leaves shifting. Not from wind. From movement. His body tensed immediately. Slowly, carefully, he stepped back, putting a tree between himself and the direction of the sound. His breathing stayed controlled, but his heartbeat picked up again. The sound came again. Closer now. Not fast. Not rushing. Just… moving. Deliberate. Riven didn't move. Not yet. If it hadn't seen him, running would only change that. A shape passed between the trees ahead. Brief. Easy to miss. But enough. Riven's fingers curled slightly at his sides. "…Not alone." The realization settled quickly. This wasn't part of the village attack. Or maybe it was. Maybe they pushed people into the forest knowing something else was already here. The thought didn't help. The shape moved again. Clearer this time. Not human. Wrong posture. Too low to the ground. Too smooth in the way it moved. Riven's mind tried to connect it to something—anything—but nothing fully matched. Another fragment, incomplete. Just like everything else. The creature—or whatever it was—paused. For a moment, everything went still again. Then its head shifted slightly. Toward him. Riven didn't wait. He moved. Fast. Not blindly this time, but with purpose. The moment of stillness had ended. Now it knew. Branches snapped behind him as he pushed forward, no longer trying to stay quiet. The forest that had felt empty moments ago now felt full—too full. Every shadow looked like it might move, every sound like it might follow. He didn't look back. Not again. The ground dipped suddenly beneath his feet, and he nearly lost his balance, catching himself at the last second before continuing forward. His breathing grew heavier now, harder to control. The sound behind him didn't fade. It followed. Not rushing. Not falling behind either. Just… there. Steady. Persistent. Like it didn't need to hurry. Riven's jaw tightened. "Think," he forced out between breaths. Running wouldn't last forever. He needed something else. Something better. But his mind kept circling the same problem—lack of information. Whatever this was, he didn't know it. Couldn't predict it. And that meant— A sudden drop appeared ahead. Not deep, but enough to break his pace if he wasn't careful. He skidded slightly as he reached the edge, then jumped down, landing harder than intended but staying upright. The impact sent a jolt through his legs, but he didn't stop. The terrain changed after that. Rougher. Denser. More obstacles. It slowed him—but it might slow whatever was behind him too. The sounds shifted slightly. Less direct. Still following. But not as clean. Riven used that. He changed direction once. Then again. Not randomly—but not in a straight line either. If it was tracking him, he needed to break that pattern. His breathing burned now, his body reaching its limits faster than he wanted to admit. But he kept moving. Because stopping didn't feel like an option. Not yet. Not here. Eventually—slowly—the sound behind him began to fade. Not completely. But enough. Riven slowed. Then stopped. He didn't relax. Not fully. Just enough to listen again. Silence. Not perfect. But close. He stayed there for a long moment, forcing his breathing back under control. Every muscle felt tight, ready to move again if needed. But nothing came. No sound. No movement. Just the forest. Riven exhaled slowly. "…Not dead yet." It wasn't much. But it was something.
