▉ ▉ (1)
Before Vita’s gaze, the sky was not merely dark—it was a loose velvet curtain, flowing like liquid, streaked with pale, twisting veins of light that resembled poisoned blood vessels. And nestled within that sky were stars, unsecured and drifting; they moved slowly, wriggling like living creatures. At times, they would cluster into bizarre constellations, only to dissolve moments later.
By all rights, the light they emitted should have brought a gentle, warm, and comforting sensation to those gazing up at the dark night, but now their glow was no longer warm—it was cold and sharp, as if each ray were a needle piercing the consciousness of the observer.
Yet those stars were nothing compared to the colossal polyhedrons that loomed in the vast expanse of space. Their shimmering surfaces gleamed like exquisitely crafted crystal, but they oozed an amber-colored liquid that smoked upon contact with the void.
Other structures resembled fractured bridges, stretching endlessly into the darkness, adorned with carved patterns that writhed as though breathing.
At times, though only fleetingly, Vita glimpsed a planet split in two. Its core erupted outward, but not with the red-hot lava of a twilight glow—instead, it spewed tendrils of pitch-black light, wriggling like tormented serpents.
Sounds reverberated everywhere—the groaning creak of bending metal, the rush of water flowing upward, and a low, guttural growl that seemed to rise from the throat of a bottomless abyss.
At first, observing these phenomena sent an icy shiver racing down her spine, as if someone had poured frost into her marrow. But gradually, Vita’s vision began to warp as the angles of space bent and twisted, straight lines snapping into unnatural, jagged edges. Confronted with these distortions, her eyes struggled to focus, as though the light from that realm refused to obey the laws of physics. Yet, in a fleeting moment, an image suddenly seared itself into Vita’s magenta eyes.
It was the form of something unfixed—at times a pulsating, slimy mass of flesh, quivering as it breathed; at others, it contracted into sharp, defined edges, as if sculpted from shadow.
Above it—or what she assumed was its head—loomed a stag’s skull, but not of any ordinary deer. This skull was enormous, distorted, its antlers unnaturally long and spiraling into chaotic, irregular coils. From the skull emerged black tendrils, not from its mouth but from the bone itself, as if they were part of its essence. They writhed and twitched, each tendril tipped with a small, pupil-less white eye, staring unblinkingly in every direction.
And where the skull’s eyes should have been were empty sockets, deep and abyssal, yet within them was not void but a faint, ethereal light—sea-green, like a flame smoldering from another dimension.
Then, in the blink of an eye, it vanished abruptly, leaving behind a trembling void in the air, as if its very existence had torn the fabric of reality itself.
▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉
Whispers began to rise, not from any specific direction but from every corner of Vita’s mind. They were thousands of voices overlapping, speaking in languages no one had ever heard, known, or could comprehend. Yet, a few words seemed almost familiar, but as she strained to grasp them, they dissolved into meaningless, sharp sounds that sliced into her consciousness like knives.
Then, a different pressure bore down on her chest, her hands trembled, and her mind spun with unbidden images.
A massive slab of raw flesh floated amidst an ocean surging with a thick, crimson liquid, reeking of blood and decay. The sandy shore, once golden grains and smooth stones, had become a slimy, festering layer of skin, oozing a cloudy yellow pus. Scattered rocks along the coast resembled broken bones, draped in sinew and pulsing veins, as if alive and breathing.
Twisted, wriggling branches that should have been lush and green now rose from the earth like giant tendrils. Leaves were absent; in their place hung thin flaps of flesh, dangling and swaying in the wind like skin flayed from a living body. Each gust elicited a shrill, ghastly hiss, akin to stifled screams. The tree trunks gleamed slickly, coated in a shimmering layer of mucus.
And above, the sky was a thin, fiery red membrane, like the inside of a colossal organ. Looming upon it were swollen tumors, hovering and dripping a mix of black and red fluid that fell to the ground, soaking into the slimy surface below.
Everything pulsed with a grotesque vitality—there was no peace, no beauty, only the chaos and horror of a world utterly warped. And just before Vita’s mind could be swallowed by itself, the space around her shattered like splintered glass, and she jolted awake.
Her body lurched upright from a bed of soggy moss, her breathing ragged, chest heaving as if she’d run a marathon. Cold air from the forest flooded her lungs, carrying the scent of rotting earth and scorched metal, making her shudder. Her magenta eyes widened, filled with panic, pupils twitching as they struggled to adjust to the thick darkness surrounding her. Cold sweat trickled down her forehead, matting her hair against her pale face, a few strands clinging to her cheeks like chaotic brushstrokes. Clutching her chest, Vita felt her heart pounding as if it might burst, each breath drawing in the forest’s biting chill, as though the dream still clung to her lungs.
Vita bowed her head, trembling hands pressing into the moss to keep from collapsing. Yet, the cold moss seeped through her palms, soft and wet like the skin of a living thing. When she clenched her fists, a thin slime oozed between her fingers, carrying a faint, rancid stench that churned her stomach.
She grimaced, wiping her hands on her tattered doctor’s coat, but no matter how she tried, the slimy sensation lingered on her skin, summoning vivid echoes of the nightmare—the quivering flaps of thin flesh, the oozing tumors.
The enormous stag skull with its white-eyed tendrils, the blood-red sky like an organ, and the sharp whispers—still lingered in her mind, etched like indelible scars.
“Just a dream… just a dream,” she muttered hoarsely, her voice trembling as she tried to convince herself. But the quaver in her tone betrayed her. As a doctor, she knew dreams were merely products of the subconscious, yet the sensation had been too real, too vivid—as if Vita had just stepped out of another dimension, and this island was its remnant.
Taking a deep breath and exhaling to steady herself, she repeated the process several times until her nerves gradually settled. Lifting her gaze, her magenta eyes scanned the still-dark forest, trying to discern where she was.
Twisted branches reached upward like desiccated tendrils, swaying faintly despite the absence of wind, emitting a soft, eerie hiss like distant whispers. Pale moonlight filtered through narrow gaps in the canopy, casting a strange shimmer on the moss below, as if it were coated in a thin layer of resin that refracted the light into distorted streaks. A low-hanging mist drifted through the air, ghostly and faint, carrying a cold, sweet scent tinged with a faint rancidness that both intrigued and unnerved her.
Everything remained as it had in her memory before she’d lost consciousness. The only difference was that her magenta gaze continued to probe the surroundings, as if searching for a small, familiar figure—but no matter how hard she tried, that girl was nowhere to be found.
The mysterious girl, Seele, was no longer present.
Given what Seele had showed earlier, her disappearance at this moment should have brought Vita relief. Yet, deep within, a pang of sadness unexpectedly stirred.
Was it because she’d been stranded on this frigid island, alone, that some unconscious part of her yearned for a companion?
Even if that girl wasn’t entirely human?
But then, a faint sound broke the silence. It was the whistle of wind threading through the rocks, cold and distant, yet it drew her attention to a cluster of trees a few meters away. From the thick fog, Seele’s silhouette emerged, stepping forward slowly.
Her sudden appearance startled Vita, her body tensing, hands instinctively clutching the edge of her coat in a reflexive act of self-defense.
“You… you’re still here,” Vita whispered, her voice shaky but laced with a hint of relief at seeing Seele, not vanishing like a mirage.
Yet, unlike Vita’s reaction, Seele’s icy blue gaze fixed on her without a flicker of emotion—only a faint, pulsing light within it, like a heartbeat. Then, Seele approached, but strangely, each slow step she took across the soggy moss made no sound.
At this, Vita merely swallowed hard, her magenta eyes tracking Seele’s every move, neither fleeing nor panicking.
After all, she reasoned, even if she ran, there’d be no escape. Better to wait and see what this girl—Seele—intended to do.
Until Seele paused a few steps from Vita and, unexpectedly, bent down. Her slender fingers plucked a small, dry twig from Vita’s hair once more—something that had gotten tangled there since she’d fallen the night before.
Seele held it delicately between her fingers before placing it onto the moss beside Vita, her movements slow and unhurried.
Vita’s magenta eyes met this sudden gesture with a flicker of confusion mixed with a trace of unease. Her gaze darted not only to the twig now resting below but also up toward Seele. Because, if Vita remembered correctly, before she’d lost consciousness, Seele had done the same—removed a twig from her hair.
And that action didn’t feel like a threat or an intent to harm.
“You… you don’t mean to hurt me, do you?” Vita whispered, her voice soft but tinged with surprise. “What are you? An entity? A hallucination?”
But in response to Vita’s questions, Seele offered no reply. She simply stood there, as if observing Vita’s reaction. Then, with a calm yet startling turn, Seele pivoted away, her hair flowing and curling with the motion, and began to walk off—as though nothing here held her interest any longer.
Confusion and bewilderment crashed over Vita simultaneously, leaving her grasping at what was happening. She appears, removes a twig from my hair, and then leaves?
That’s it? Nothing more?
Her magenta eyes blinked in puzzlement as she watched the figure ahead gradually fade into the distance. Just seconds later, a sudden gust of wind swept through, carrying with it a strange sound that echoed through the forest. The noise jolted her, stirring memories of her dream and reminding her that, right now, she was alone in this place. A chill raced down her spine, prompting Vita to call out instinctively, hoping to catch the attention of the retreating figure.
“Wait.”
Her voice reverberated through the air, and Seele’s steps halted. Though she didn’t turn around, it was clear she was waiting for Vita to say something.
Driven by an odd impulse, Vita’s magenta gaze locked onto Seele’s back. Then, slowly, she spoke.
“I’ll follow you.”
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After hours of trailing Seele through the narrow paths of the forest, even if Seele showed no signs of fatigue, Vita began to feel her body succumbing to exhaustion.
Besides, it wasn’t just a matter of one or two hours passing—Vita could sense that nearly a full day had slipped by, despite the absence of sunlight filtering through to distinguish day from night. That was because all of time, the pale moonlight still hung suspended in the pitch-black sky, piercing through the small gaps between the tangled canopy, casting its glow directly onto their path.
In addition, the streaks of moonlight somehow appeared distorted, dancing across the ground and forming bizarre shapes that forced Vita to squint, struggling to discern what was real and what was an illusion.
The air was cold and thick, laced with the stench like the stench of decaying corpses buried beneath layers of earth. It clung to every breath she took, leaving her throat parched and raw, as if scraped by sand.
Besides her dry throat, even her stomach growled in protest, low rumbles echoing from an empty gut, a stark reminder that it had been far too long since she’d last eaten or drunk anything.
Panting heavily, Vita paused, bracing a hand against a gnarled tree trunk for balance. But the moment her palm touched its surface, she yanked it back as if shocked, forgetting how strange the ecosystem here was. The tree wasn’t dry as she’d expected—it was slick and soft, like living skin. A thin, murky gray slime oozed from the point of contact, seeping into the crevices of her fingers. That clammy sensation lingered on her skin, stirring memories of the quivering flaps of flesh from her dream.
Organs, blood, and…
A wave of nausea surged within her as those images flooded back, making her shudder. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen such things before—quite the opposite. As a doctor with years of experience, Vita had encountered them countless times. But now, recalling how every sense had been engulfed by the visceral presence of flesh and blood surrounding her, she couldn’t suppress the mix of fear and revulsion rising within.
Shaking her head as if to banish the dream’s lingering thoughts, Vita sighed, her gaze sweeping the surroundings in search of something—anything—to distract herself.
Then, she looked up. Her magenta eyes, clouded with exhaustion, met Seele standing a few steps away, motionless. Those piercing blue eyes glowed vividly in the darkness, staring back at her.
“I need water…”
Vita rasped, her voice feeble, her throat so dry that each word scraped out like a hiss.
“And something to eat… otherwise, I won’t be able to keep going.”
She sighed, slumping onto the soggy moss, hands clutching her head as a wave of dizziness washed over her.
Hearing those words, Seele’s blue eyes flickered faintly, as if processing Vita’s plea without needing to respond. Then, the girl turned and began walking toward a small clearing amid the tangled trees.
Faced with a cold and inscrutable companion, Vita gritted her teeth, pushing herself up with trembling hands. Her exhausted legs wobbled on the moss as she dragged herself forward, following behind.
Still, her magenta gaze instinctively locked onto the figure ahead. She muttered under her breath, her voice tinged with doubt but also a flicker of hope that Seele might understand her.
“You get what I mean, right?”
But, as expected, no reply came.
After a while, they reached a small open patch where the twisted branches thinned, revealing a narrow stream cutting through the ground. But the water wasn’t the clear, pristine flow Vita had hoped for—it was pitch-black, its surface mirror-smooth, reflecting the pale moonlight in shimmering streaks that resembled an oil slick.
A faint metallic scent rose from the stream, mingling with the subtle rot of the earth, making Vita grimace. Her magenta eyes hesitated, uncertain.
“This… this is really water?”
Vita whispered, her tone laced with skepticism as she stared at the liquid before her. Yet, the burning thirst in her throat urged her onward.
She knelt by the stream’s edge, trembling hands reaching to scoop some up. The water was icy against her fingertips, numbing like frost, yet strangely enticing, as if her parched throat begged her to drink. Still, she hesitated, her gaze sliding toward Seele as if seeking confirmation.
Seele stood closer than usual, watching Vita silently as she held the water without drinking.
Seeming to sense Vita’s reluctance, Seele raised a pale, delicate hand, hovering it near the stream’s surface. A thin mist rose from the water, swirling around her hand like a tiny vortex. When the mist brushed the water in Vita’s hands, it trembled faintly, stirred by an unseen force.
As the mist dissipated, the water in Vita’s grasp grew clearer—still frigid and faintly metallic, but no longer the inky black it had been moments before.
Witnessing this strange marvel, Vita blinked, her magenta eyes darting to Seele with a mix of astonishment and lingering doubt. But rather than ask how Seele had done it—knowing she’d likely get no answer—she chose instead to bring the water to her lips, taking a tentative sip.
The coldness made her shiver, spreading from her mouth down her throat like a stream of ice, but it quenched her thirst. She exhaled in relief, sweat trickling from her forehead down her cheek.
“Thank you…” she murmured, her gaze meeting Seele’s icy blue eyes, a fragile thread of connection seeming to form between them.
But water alone wasn’t enough—the hunger still gnawed at her stomach. Vita glanced around again, her magenta eyes scanning the forest for anything edible. Unfortunately, aside from the twisted branches and the moss beneath them, nothing looked remotely recognizable as food or fruit.
“There’s nothing here…” she mumbled, her voice edged with desperation, hands clutching her stomach as the hunger gnawed more fiercely.
At those whispered words, Seele’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if registering Vita’s distress. She stepped toward a nearby slab of stone, where a cluster of small mushrooms sprouted from the cracks. But these were no ordinary mushrooms—their slender stems were a grayish-purple, emitting a cold, sweet scent laced with a faint whiff of decay from their tiny caps.
Vita grimaced, her magenta eyes studying the cluster of mushrooms with the same clear suspicion she’d shown toward the dark, inky water.
“These… don’t exactly look edible, do they?” she asked, her hand hovering hesitantly, unwilling to touch them.
Seele didn’t respond, but she raised a hand, her slender fingers brushing the mushrooms. Once again, a thin mist rose from the moss, curling around them like a faint veil of smoke. Moments later, as the mist dissipated, the mushrooms appeared less grotesque—the rancid stench softened, though a strange, cold sweetness lingered.
Still, Vita didn’t dare reach for them, her gaze shifting silently to Seele. But those blue eyes remained impassive, staring back at her without emotion.
Vita knew she could choose not to eat if she didn’t want to, and she was certain Seele wouldn’t care either way. Yet, she doubted her body would agree with that decision after hours of relentless exertion. So, with a clenched jaw, she gave in. Stepping forward, she plucked a small mushroom, her trembling fingers lifting it to her nose for a cautious sniff.
“If you’re wrong, I’ll die…” she muttered, casting a sidelong glance at Seele. But hunger left her no other option. Closing her eyes, she took a small bite. A cold, sweet flavor tinged with a faint bitterness spread across her tongue—not pleasant, but not poisonous either. At the very least, it dulled her hunger slightly.
After a moment of contemplating its taste, she swallowed, sighed, and looked up at Seele. Her magenta eyes gleamed with a hint of weary gratitude.
“You know this place better than I thought…” Vita said, her voice carrying a mix of surprise and appreciation for what Seele had done.
Then, the faintest curve appeared at the corner of Seele’s lips—not quite a smile, but more like an involuntary twitch. Still, it was enough for Vita to feel a subtle trust beginning to take root between them—or at least within herself.
They lingered there for a while. Vita nibbled on a few more mushrooms to stave off hunger, while Seele stood at a slight distance, her gaze never straying from Vita, as if observing her every reaction to this forest. Eventually, when Vita regained some strength, they resumed their journey. Her steps were steadier now, bolstered by the water and mushrooms, though still slow from exhaustion.
Ahead, Seele continued to lead the way, with Vita trailing a few paces behind. Hours earlier, her magenta eyes might have darted over Seele’s back with curiosity and suspicion. But now, after today’s actions—whatever they meant—Vita’s goodwill and trust toward Seele had grown. As a result, the doubt once clouding her magenta gaze had faded, at least to some degree.
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Beneath the pale moonlight and a cloudless night sky, unconsciously dyed an endless black like an infinite veil, the desolate forest below emerged in a stillness that felt unnervingly ominous.
Gaunt trees with peeling, ashen bark—shedding like the skin of a molting creature—interwove into a grotesque canopy. The faint light filtering through was just enough to illuminate the thick layer of rotting leaves underfoot, where the damp scent of earth mingled with a metallic tang lingering in the air, a smell reminiscent of long-dried blood.
A gust of wind swept through, carrying a whistling sound like the murmurs of imprisoned souls, rustling the barren branches that resembled gnarled, clawing arms reaching upward in desperate plea.
And there, a group of about twelve figures stood in a circle around an ancient stone structure. Tall slabs of rock, roughly the height of a person, were encrusted with gray-green moss and etched with deep, spiraling carvings that twisted like the coils of massive tendrils. The symbols on the stones, upon closer inspection, belonged to no known human language. At times, they seemed to writhe and shift under a passing glance, as if alive. When the flickering light of torches staked around the circle struck them, they glinted with an oceanic blue shimmer.
The torches burned weakly, some of them seem like stifled by the wind, reduced to mere flickers of unsteady light. That glow cast the shadows of those present onto the ground—elongated and distorted, like the silhouettes of invisible monsters.
The group wore long black robes reaching their ankles, the coarse fabric frayed at the edges and streaked with mud. Red chalk marked their chests and sleeves with chaotic, cryptic sigils. Some stood bareheaded, their hair tangled and matted with sweat and dust, while others wore ancient stag skulls atop their heads, concealing their faces and leaving only their frenzied eyes visible through the hollow sockets in the darkness.
The man who seemed to be their leader was tall and gaunt to an almost unnatural degree, draped in a robe distinguished by vivid red trim resembling veins. A stag skull crowned his head, and in his hand, he wielded a curved dagger, its blade inscribed with strange runes that gleamed under the light. He stood before an altar where a jagged black stone rested, pieced together from stark white bones of unknown origin, fused by a thick, tar-like resin that reeked of sap and rotting flesh.
Atop the altar lay an ancient book, its cracked leather cover worn thin, exposing the fibrous layers beneath—like the skin of a creature dead for centuries. The pages inside were yellowed and tattered, scrawled with jagged handwriting in black and red ink, interspersed with grotesque illustrations: enormous eyes with slitted pupils, writhing tendrils, and shapes too alien to name. As the leader turned the pages, a dry, rasping sound filled the air—not the typical rustle of paper, but something akin to the snap of breaking bones. With each page flipped, the air around the book grew heavier, as though it were siphoning the life from those standing near it.
Seeming to have found the page he sought, the leader began the ritual with a deep, guttural voice that echoed like a reverberation from a cavernous abyss. The words were distorted, belonging to no human tongue—a cacophony of growls, hisses, and moans, akin to the dying gasps of a beast. At the sound, the others dropped to their knees, heads bowed low, hands gripping the damp earth, responding in unison with a chaotic chorus. Their voices were uneven, a mix of shrill cries and hoarse rumbles, forming a sound both terrifying and chilling, like the wails of tormented souls.
Amid the chorus, some trembled violently, lips moving incessantly as drool dribbled down their chins, while others tilted their heads skyward, eyes rolling back to reveal only whites, mouths gaping as if to swallow the darkness.
Beneath their feet lay a large circle drawn in fresh blood—the blood of a deer, its throat freshly slit, its twitching corpse sprawled just a few steps away. Yet, for reasons unknown, amid the chaotic sounds, the creature’s clouded eyes suddenly widened in a final surge of terror.
This triggered the circle to emit smoke, its lines wriggling like living veins, spreading outward and radiating intense heat despite the absence of flames. The ground beneath the circle trembled, faint ripples pulsing through it like the heartbeat of a colossal entity stirring awake. A low, rumbling growl rose from the depths, deep and ferocious, scattering the decayed leaves and dislodging small stones, leaving cracks spiderwebbing across the earth.
Suddenly, the air above the circle fractured. A crack appeared, at first a hairline fissure, but it swiftly widened, oozing a thick, black liquid that glistened like oil yet felt heavier, splattering onto the ground with dull, wet thuds. The substance reeked—a nauseating blend of the deep ocean, rotting flesh, and scorched metal—causing some of the fanatics to choke and cough, though they pressed on with their chants undeterred.
Through the rift, at the boundary of unreality, a deep sea-blue hue slowly emerged, gazing down at those performing the ritual. Then, as if sensing something, that blue shifted upward, locking directly onto the magenta—directly onto Vita.
Vita jolted awake, sweat streaming down her forehead, her ragged breaths escaping as faint white wisps in the frigid air. Her magenta eyes flew open, darting around in panic as if to confirm where she was, her trembling hands clutching her head while images from the dream lingered in her mind.
This dream, though less chaotic or bewildering than her previous one, still planted an indescribable unease in her chest, tinged with a flicker of dread.
The mysterious figures in her dream, in a way, bore expressions eerily similar to those of the people who had given her a ride on their boat back then. Expressions that blended tension, joy, fervor, madness, fear and…. even fanaticism.
But what truly filled her with dread and unease wasn’t those people—it was eyes. That deep, ocean-like blue.
At first, those eyes resembled a tranquil sea under moonlight, but that stillness shattered the moment they turned toward Vita. Clearly, her presence had drawn their attention, making them come alive, transforming into a frigid, swirling current that dragged Vita into an undefined void. It felt as though that blue wasn’t merely gazing back at her—it pierced through every layer of her thoughts, memories, and the deepest fears she kept buried.
A shiver ran down her spine, making Vita tremble at the thought. Yet she could only shake her head to dispel it, for there was something more pressing to focus on than the dream.
Vita couldn’t recall when she’d fallen asleep. She only remembered following Seele for what felt like an eternity. Even though Seele had reached out to help, offering her “a simple meal”, and they’d paused to rest at times, the exhaustion must have been too overwhelming to shake off. Her body, maybe pushed to its limits, had quietly slipped into unconsciousness.
“Seele…” she whispered, unable to stop herself from recalling the image of the girl with those blue eyes.
Even though they were strangers, even though Seele’s demeanor was one of indifference…
Her magenta gaze slowly dropped to the moss cradling her, keeping her warm and serving as a makeshift cushion against the harsh chill of the weather and the uneven ground beneath.
…Seele’d still cared for her in some way.
Gradually, Vita looked up, and her heart skipped a beat as she saw Seele’s figure now sitting closer, just an arm’s length away. Those unblinking blue eyes glimmered faintly, as if Seele had been there the entire time Vita slept.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”
Vita murmured softly, recalling the moment just before when Seele’s name had slipped from her lips in a fleeting lapse. Perhaps that was why Seele was here now, appearing before her, bringing with her an indescribable atmosphere.
Yet, as Vita’s eyes met the deep blue of Seele’s gaze, a strange sensation welled up within her—an urge she couldn’t suppress, compelling her to voice her thoughts aloud.
“It’s just… I had a nightmare, and my mind started wandering with all sorts of random thoughts, so…” she explained softly, though her words trailed off mid-sentence. Her eyes instinctively darted away from the blue gaze before her, as if to hide the lingering traces of embarrassment.
In response to Vita’s incomplete explanation and evasive glance, Seele remained silent, offering no words as a gentle breeze filled the awkward stillness between them. Those blue eyes observed the woman before her quietly for a moment before drifting aimlessly to the surroundings, only to return when Vita’s voice broke the silence again.
“Do you dream?” Vita whispered, her hands now resting as she steadied herself.
At the question, the faintest hint of a curve touched Seele’s lips, but she didn’t answer. She simply sat there, her ocean-deep gaze fixed on Vita.
Realizing the futility of her question, Vita sighed, letting go of the dream and her half-formed inquiry. She shifted the topic instead. Yet, as her eyes locked onto Seele, her voice carried an unconscious warmth—as though Seele’s presence had become a small anchor amid the chaos swirling in Vita’s mind. Even if what she said was merely a fleeting thought from her heart.
“All day, you’ve been helping me… even when I fell asleep… you stayed here, didn’t leave me behind… I don’t know why you’re doing this… but thank you… Seele.”
Perhaps exhaustion had taken its toll, for as soon as the words left her lips, Vita’s eyes fluttered shut again. Her body relaxed against the tree, and the rhythmic rustling of the forest rose around her like a strange lullaby, guiding her into a deeper sleep again. Seele remained seated, motionless and silent, her shimmering blue eyes glowing vividly in the darkness, focused on Vita’s steady breathing.
Until, at last, that blue gaze shifted gently upward toward the moonlight overhead. A hand rose slowly, as if reaching to grasp it, unintentionally causing the space around them to tremble faintly. The subtle disturbance drew a soft, displeased sound from Vita, still deep in slumber.
Hearing it, Seele lowered her hand, and the distortions rippling through the air instantly settled back to normal. Then, she rose quietly and slipped away without a sound.
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Days had passed, and everything continued in the same relentless pattern. As the moonlight still reigned high in a sky untouched by any trace of sunlight, they pressed on endlessly, as if without a destination—or at least, that’s how it felt to Vita, who had no way of knowing where they were headed. She could only follow Seele across the rugged paths, unable to ask questions, and even if she did, she’d receive no answers.
Each day unfolded like this: they walked until hunger and exhaustion overtook Vita’s body, prompting a brief pause to rest before resuming their journey.
Fortunately, since that night, the days that followed had spared Vita from the incomprehensible nightmares. Instead, her dreams were shrouded in darkness—formless, meaningless, just an enveloping black void.
Whatever it was, it granted her restful sleep at the very least, allowing her to recover some strength after hours of walking.
Until, abruptly, it returned once more, defying any pattern, letting Vita witness the unfinished chaos of her previous dream again.
The night sky above, once pitch-black and faintly lit by pale moonlight, began to tremble. Then came a low, muffled boom—not thunder, but more like the choked roar of a colossal creature echoing from the horizon. The moonlight dimmed as thick, ashen clouds materialized from nowhere, surging rapidly as if propelled by an invisible hand.
Yet they didn’t drift naturally; instead, they coalesced into a motionless mass, blotting out the light and plunging the forest into near-absolute darkness. Suddenly, a blue bolt of lightning flashed from the clouds, unaccompanied by thunder, briefly illuminating the scene below and casting the unfolding chaos into sharp relief.
Sensing the unnatural shift, the figure who seemed to be the leader let out a cry—no longer the incomprehensible, resonant chants, but a raw, desperate scream. His trembling hands reached skyward as if pleading for something, but nothing answered his call.
The gaunt trees nearby, their peeling gray bark already cracked, began to ooze black sap from their fissures. It didn’t flow steadily but spurted in bursts, like blood from a torn wound. The sap sprayed onto the branches and dripped onto the rotting leaves below, hissing with a “ssss” as it corroded everything it touched, leaving behind scorched, blackened streaks.
A fanatic nearby, kneeling with hands clawing the dirt, collapsed with a howl as the black sap splashed onto his shoulder. His face contorted in agony, eyes squeezed shut, yet even in his torment, the corners of his mouth twitched upward into a trembling smile, as if clinging to a faith that was crumbling away.
But that was nothing compared to what followed. The barren branches around them began to twitch and bend unnaturally, twisting into grotesque shapes—resembling the sigils on the stone slabs, yet distorted and incomplete.
Some snapped in two with a dry “crack,” tumbling to the ground like shattered bones. Unfortunately, one struck the head of another person, sending him crumpling to the earth. Blood poured from his forehead, mingling with tears, yet despite the pain, he continued whispering in a frenzied delirium.
The wind swept through in successive gusts, its force sudden and fierce—no longer a mere whistle but a furious howl. It carried dust, decayed leaves, and ash from the disintegrating blood circle, forming small, frenzied vortexes in the air. With it came the putrid stench of burning sap and dried blood, as if the very space sought to erase all traces of the ritual.
Worse still, with each passing second, the wind grew stronger, snuffing out several torches staked around the circle. Thin wisps of smoke danced in the darkness, and one nearby fanatic, caught off guard, inhaled it and began coughing violently, clutching his chest as he gasped for air. It didn’t take long for blood to spill from his mouth because his insides crushed from within. Yet, even in agony, his eyes gleamed with fanaticism, fixed on the center as if awaiting a miracle.
At the heart of it all, the blood circle on the ground—once smoking and pulsing like living veins—now shrank at a terrifying rate. Its writhing lines mirrored the collapse, as though strangled by an unseen force, before erupting into small, searing blue flames. The fire, though tiny, burned with an acrid tang of scorched blood, only to extinguish moments later, leaving behind a fine layer of black ash. The wind promptly swept it away, revealing the cracked earth beneath.
Those small fissures spread outward from the center like a spider’s web, and from them rose a cold, gray smoke that hovered low to the ground. It carried a suffocating weight, coiling around the legs of those still standing, making them tremble in the biting, skin-searing chill.
Above, the rift in the air—previously oozing black liquid—shuddered violently, as if stretched by an invisible force. The liquid halted mid-flow, suspended momentarily in the air, glistening like oil under the lightning’s flash, before being sucked back into the rift with alarming speed, accompanied by a sharp “hiss.”
The rift contracted, its edges quivering like living flesh, and the deep blue within began to close alongside a dry, resonant “crack” that echoed through the forest. It left behind an empty void, as if nothing had ever occurred.
But just before it sealed, a low, chilling whisper escaped from within—not a menacing roar, but a prolonged, aching sound, as though the entity beyond was stirring from an eternal slumber.
The ancient stone slabs surrounding the circle shook fiercely, their carved sigils flaring a final, brilliant blue—like lightning—before fading. Yet it wasn’t over. Some slabs began to fracture, cracks spreading like bolts of electricity, until they exploded into fragments. Sharp shards shot through the air with a shrill whistle—one large piece embedding deep into a nearby tree, unleashing a spray of black sap like blood, while smaller fragments rained down, glinting under the lightning like cursed gems.
The altar at the center, where the black stone of bones and resin stood, trembled violently before splitting apart. The resin bubbled and smoked, releasing a toxic stench of rotting flesh and sulfur.
The ancient book atop the altar flipped its pages wildly, as if driven by an unseen wind, then burst into cold blue flames. The fire didn’t radiate heat but instead devoured the surrounding air, reducing the book to ash in mere seconds.
The ashes rose, mingling with the wind, forming a fragile cloud that hung in the air.
Farther off, at the forest’s edge—now cloaked in a thick fog that emerged the moment the ritual failed—the mist was anything but natural. It was frigid and heavy, creeping along the ground, wrapping around tree roots and withered bushes, carrying the briny stench of salt and death.
Through the fog, the silhouettes of small creatures darted in panic, their frantic cries piercing the air before they vanished completely into the darkness.
High above, a few crows suddenly appeared, circling the forest with hoarse, disjointed caws, as if bearing witness to the collapse. One perched on the nearest branch, its glossy black eyes silently observing, before taking flight again as the ground trembled one final time—seemingly sensing the lingering failure and danger, even it chose to flee.
As for the fanatics in the group, they too began to fall. Some felt their bodies grow heavy, crushed by an invisible force—they clutched their chests, gasping for air as blood poured from their mouths and noses, while their insides pulverized from within. Others screamed as their skin cracked and split, oozing black blood instead of red, as though the ritual had branded them. Those closest to the blood circle collapsed, limbs twitching violently, eyes bulging before bursting, leaving behind hollow sockets—as if their souls had been torn away.
The minds of the few who survived shattered entirely. Their maniacal grins twisted into wails of despair and anguished moans. One clutched his head, clawing at his face until it tore open, frantically gouging at his own eyes as if desperate to unsee whatever horrors lingered in his vision. Another, clinging to a shred of sanity, tried to flee the forest, but his legs faltered, ensnared by shadowy tendrils rising from the ground. They dragged him down, his screams fading as the cracked earth swallowed him whole.
In the end, as everything crumbled, some died in excruciating agony, while others lost their minds, wandering aimlessly in madness. And beneath the shadow of a barren, gnarled tree—where droplets of pitch-black liquid dripped from its skeletal branches—a faint mist began to dissipate, revealing a slender figure.
A familiar white dress gently clung to her form, long black hair cascading down like an endless night.
Confronted with that familiar silhouette, Vita’s heart couldn’t help but tremble within her chest, its quiet yet fervent beats stirring her emotions. Unconsciously, her lips parted, and a soft sound emerged amid the chaotic stillness.
“Seele…”
As if that whisper had transcended the bounds of space and time, the figure turned slowly. Those deep, fathomless blue eyes locked onto Vita, carrying a strange, wordless magnetism.
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Jerking awake, Vita’s magenta eyes were instantly met with the familiar scene she’d encountered countless times upon waking. The faint moonlight hung overhead, casting a dim glow over the strange forest that surrounded her.
But this time, something about the dream felt different. It left her breath ragged, escaping in sharp bursts from her heaving chest, each inhale stifled by the frigid, rancid air of the deep forest. Cold sweat rolled down her temples, soaking her hair and matting strands against her pale cheeks, underscoring the gravity of the nightmare.
Her hand instinctively rose to her forehead, trying to dispel the memory of the ordeal she’d just endured. It had been too vivid—far beyond what a normal dream should be. The chilling shrieks, like blades tearing through the air, mingled with the frenzied screams of people desperately clinging to fleeting scraps of life. And then, in the dream’s final moment, Seele had been there. Whether by chance or intent, her presence had somehow soothed and comforted Vita, easing the terror she’d just faced. Yet, at the same time, it wrapped her in an indescribable dread.
Her trembling fingers dug into the layer of leaves beneath her, tearing them apart under her nails. They released a foul, acrid liquid—sharp and pungent, like blood mixed with ash.
“Seele…” she rasped, her voice hoarse and faint, swallowed by the darkness. Her eyes darted around unconsciously, searching for a familiar sign—the glint of blue, a gentle mist, or the fluttering white dress of Seele. But there was nothing—only a thick, fathomless darkness, alive and quivering faintly with the distant rustling of the forest, like the soft laughter of a predator lurking unseen.
The air was heavy and cloying, assaulting her senses with every breath and twisting her stomach into knots. The towering, gaunt trees around her, their purplish-gray bark peeling like shed skin, revealed glowing red veins beneath—pulsing faintly like living arteries. But in the blink of an eye, they reverted to normal. From the canopy, black droplets fell, dripping onto the ground with sharp, cold plinks, like needles piercing flesh. The wind blew through—not refreshing, but icy—carrying an eerie whistle, akin to the breathing of some creature hidden in the shadows. The decayed leaves beneath her feet trembled, as if the ground itself were alive.
Faced with what she saw, heard, and felt, Vita instinctively curled into herself, arms wrapping around her knees. Her nails dug into her skin through her coat, anchoring her to a shred of sanity amid the dizziness.
Her eyes darted around, but the darkness seemed to shift and writhe, like the faceless figures from her dream stalking her, waiting for her guard to drop before pouncing.
Suddenly, a faint snap—the dry crack of a breaking branch—echoed from somewhere nearby. Vita flinched, her head whipping around, eyes wide. But nothing emerged, only the rustling of the forest, now louder and closer, like whispers from hundreds of unseen mouths blending with the frantic pounding of her heart.
“Seele!”
Vita called out louder, but the sound was swiftly swallowed by the darkness, leaving only a faint, distorted echo, stifled by the oppressive space. There came no reply, no familiar figure stepping into view.
No deep, ocean-blue eyes that once brought her comfort, no swirling mist enveloping her like a silent promise.
Where had Seele gone?
Beneath the dim, ethereal glow in the darkness, Vita’s magenta eyes shone like a small, steadfast flame, stubbornly searching for any trace of Seele. But no matter how hard she tried, the forest responded only with a suffocating silence and impenetrable shadows, offering no hint of the presence she longed for. That realization sank heavily into her chest, an invisible sadness creeping into her mind.
The drowsiness that had been creeping in dissipated under Seele’s absence and the forest’s oppressive air, leaving Vita to sit there, her gaze drifting aimlessly over her surroundings. Yet inside, she felt only emptiness and despondency.
Time crawled by, slow and burdensome, as if each second stretched into hours. The hope that Seele would soon return began to fade, replaced by a growing anxiety gnawing at Vita’s heart as she feared something terrible had befallen her companion.
Worse still, a horrifying thought flashed through her mind: that Seele might have abandoned her, leaving Vita alone in this frigid, unforgiving forest. The mere idea sent a shiver racing down her spine, spreading through her body, making her limbs tremble and numb. More than that, it brought a pang of loss, a sharp ache piercing her heart.
But paradoxically, that very fear—rather than dragging her down—ignited a spark of resolve within her. Vita stood, her eyes fixed determinedly into the depths of the forest. Ignoring her body’s trembling, she took a step forward, ready to confront the darkness to find Seele—the one she couldn’t bear to lose.
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Beneath the hazy moonlight illuminating the path ahead, Vita trudged through the forest. Her boots sank into the cold, slimy layer of decayed leaves—causing the ground to tremble faintly with each step, as if it were breathing under her weight. Her magenta eyes swept slowly through the darkness, searching for any sign of Seele—a flash of vivid blue in the night, a familiar streak of white amid the trees, or anything remotely recognizable in this alien expanse.
Yet, whether due to the vague mist or the eerie blur of her surroundings, her vision suddenly faltered. It was as if an invisible pane of glass stood before her, cracking with fine, spreading fractures before shattering instantly, unveiling a different reality lurking beneath its fragile surface.
The trees around her—tall, purplish-gray, their bark peeling—abruptly transformed. For a fleeting moment, they remained trees, gaunt and silent, but then, as if brushed by an unseen wind, they morphed into glistening red pillars of viscera. Their slimy surfaces oozed black and red fluids, sinewy veins bulging like pulsing arteries.
A nearby low bush, once just a cluster of dry gray branches, swelled unnaturally. Its leaves turned into tattered, red-veined fringes—soft yet grotesque—twisting like convulsing fingers, emitting a faint hiss like breath escaping a torn lung.
“What is this…?”
Startled, Vita blinked, trying to steady herself. When she looked again, the scene reverted to normal—trees and an unassuming bush surrounded her once more. But with her next blink, it dissolved again into a quivering mass of flesh, its surface splitting open to leak black and red blood, like a gaping wound.
Her vision flickered incessantly, as if someone were flipping between two worlds: one a cold, silent forest bathed in faint moonlight, the other a living nightmare of flesh and blood, where everything bled and trembled in stillness.
Faced with this terrifying shift, Vita stumbled, flailing her arms forward as if to dispel the hallucination. But it had no effect, contrast in, it heightened her senses, forcing her to inhale more of the surrounding air. The sharp, rancid stench of blood mingled with scorched metal assaulted her, twisting her stomach into knots.
“It’s not real…” she whispered, her voice trembling despite her efforts to steady it.
There was no way this could be real. Vita had been with Seele for days, following her everywhere, every moment, and never—never—had she seen this. Even if she’d glimpsed it in her dreams, there was no reason it could bleed into reality.
So it had to be a hallucination. A hallucination triggered by the mushrooms Seele had given her to eat earlier. But that raised a question: if it stemmed from those mushrooms, why was it only taking effect now, and not before?
Her steps slowed, her mind reeling as the scenery around her continued to dissolve and reform, leaving Vita unable to think clearly, overwhelmed by a rising tide of panic.
Ahead, a towering tree—once just dry, gray wood—suddenly split open. Its bark peeled away like shedding skin, revealing a pulsating red core inside, swelling and contracting like a massive heart. It emitted a low, steady thud that reverberated through the air with each beat. From its canopy, droplets of black-red liquid fell, but as they hit the ground, they swiftly morphed into tiny beetles—no, minuscule clumps of flesh, their red-veined tendrils extending like legs, scuttling toward her with an eerie, rasping sound.
Instinctively, Vita staggered back, intent on fleeing, only to trip over a gnarled root and crash to the ground. Pain shot through her, reaching her brain, but it was quickly overshadowed as her magenta eyes glanced downward. The root had transformed into a slick, crimson intestine, coiling around her ankle as if trying to drag her under.
In her panic and thrashing, the only thing Vita could muster was the name of the one person she hoped could save her from this hellish vision.
“Seele…” she murmured, her voice frail, hands clutching her chest where her frantic heartbeat mingled with the pulsing thuds of the hallucinatory forest.
But instead of Seele appearing, this time Vita’s vision shifted briefly, restoring the forest to its original form—gaunt trees standing silently beneath the moonlight—for just a fleeting moment.
Then, as if toying with her emotions, it shattered again like a smashed mirror. The darkness around her writhed, a living smoke that twisted into distorted shapes—not human, not beast, but living organs. Lungs heaved and bled, hearts throbbed chaotically in vivid red, all suspended midair as if strung up by invisible sinews.
They surrounded Vita, emitting a low, rasping hum—like whispers from hundreds of lipless mouths—sending chills across her skin, cold seeping into her bones.
Her trembling hands pressed against the frigid ground, but the decayed leaves and moss beneath morphed—no longer leaves or moss, but a thin, slimy membrane oozing a foul red liquid that seeped between her fingers.
Vita yanked her hand back in a panic, her magenta eyes widening in horror as the membrane swelled and split, revealing a cloudy white eye—pupil-less—emerging from the ground, staring directly at her. But just as quickly, in the next second, it melted into a pool of black blood, spreading beneath her feet, reeking of scorched metal mixed with rotting flesh.
Her fear reached its peak, forcing her to stumble to her feet, her mind spinning as if caught in an endless vortex. Her vision no longer obeyed any rules—one eye saw the dense darkness of the forest, with gnarled branches like broken bones, while the other beheld a vivid sea of flesh and blood, where suspended organs pulsed, their red-veined tendrils reaching for her. The forest’s rustling now blended with the low thumping of the hallucinatory “hearts,” forming a grotesque symphony that deafened her ears, as if the sounds were crawling into her skull, gnawing away at the last scraps of her sanity.
“It’s a dream… just a dream…” she whispered, her voice trembling, hands clenching into fists so tightly that her nails dug into her skin, seeking pain to anchor her back to reality.
But the pain didn’t pull her back—it only made the hallucination more vivid. The moonlight overhead turned a blood-red hue, and high in the sky, a massive rift appeared—like a gaping tear—dripping fresh red blood down onto the forest. It dissolved into a fine red mist just before reaching Vita, leaving a cloying, rancid stench clinging to her skin.
From within that rift, a grotesque form began to take shape: an enormous, shapeless mass of living flesh, its slimy, pitch-black surface glistening under the red moonlight, coated in a viscous sheen. It oozed thick black droplets that fell to the ground, forming smoking puddles that stank of blood and burning sulfur. Stretching meters long, it was covered in shimmering obsidian-like scales, writhing slowly. Dozens of uneven, glowing red eyes blinked in the darkness across its body, paired with vague contours—beyond human comprehension, neither geometric nor organic, but a fusion of both, as if a nightmare had been forged into being.
Fortunately, the darkness and the rift obscured most of its true form and details, sparing Vita from being overwhelmed by its full presence. Yet, within the rift, she caught a glimpse of a massive blue glow—deep and frigid, like a midnight abyss lit by ghostly flames. It locked onto her, piercing her mind like an icy drill. It didn’t blink or shift, but Vita felt it saw her—not just looking, but consuming her, stripping bare every fear, every thought, leaving her exposed to its intrusion.
In that brief moment, a deep instinct surged within her, faintly reminiscent of the cold blue she’d first seen and longed to see again. But now, the blue she craved had been magnified into something far beyond human, beyond even nightmares.
From those eyes, a chilling aura emanated—not wind, but a dense, coiling vapor that wrapped around her like invisible threads, raising goosebumps and freezing her to the bone. A low, resonant hum rose from the rift, seeping into her ears, sending her mind reeling as if dragged into an infinite void where only its terror and overwhelming power existed.
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Facing that gaze, Vita’s body suddenly froze, her heart pounding as if it might burst. The horror engulfed her—not merely from its malformed shape or overpowering might, but from the invasive sensation. It wasn’t just beyond the rift, watching her—it burrowed into her mind, making her feel small and frail, like a speck of dust before a cosmic storm.
In doing so, it awakened a primal fear in Vita, intertwined with an odd mix of emotions—fear, familiarity, and even dependence. As if, even in this grotesque form, she glimpsed Seele—the one she’d been searching for all along.