The journey to the fortress is both captivating and nerve-wracking. The forest looms ahead like a forgotten realm, untouched by time. Its dense canopy obscures much of the sunlight, casting eerie shadows that dance among the towering trees. The air is heavy with a medley of scents: the putrid odor of decaying animals mingles with an unexpectedly fresh breeze, a stark reminder of the nuclear accident that once plagued this land.

As we trudge deeper into the forest, the ground transforms into a thick, sludgy expanse of mud. Each step is accompanied by a soft, squelching sound, blending into the chorus of our group's murmurs and heavy breathing. My boots sink slightly with every footfall, leaving deep impressions that quickly fill with dark, murky water as if the earth yearns to swallow our presence.

I can hear the rhythmic thud of footsteps, each muted thump melding with the rustling leaves overhead. The mud seems to absorb our movements, muffling the sounds of our passage as if the forest wants to keep our presence a secret from whatever lurks beyond the trees.

As we venture further into the woods, peculiar creatures and plants catch our attention. They appear harmless with their bizarre forms and vibrant colors, but according to A.R.T., they are dangerous. One creature, a worm-like organism adorned with horns, leaves behind a slimy trail of flowers. Nearby, a tree bears mushrooms—if that’s what they are—attached to its trunk, resembling ears. Their presence is both fascinating and unsettling. Despite the tension in the air, the kid beside me remains unfazed, piquing my curiosity. How can he navigate this strange world like it's a typical Sunday stroll? Where does this kid take his walks?

I want to ask him about it, but eventually, I fall silent, recalling how irritating it can be when someone constantly bugs you, even when you wear that "don't you dare talk to me" face. So, I continue to observe—if that’s the right word—for the forest and its peculiar inhabitants.

After an hour of walking, boredom creeps in, prompting me to pull out the radiation detector provided by A.R.T. I hesitate; the chief has assured us that the instruments indicate little to no danger from radiation, which feels odd given the history of this place. The aftermath of the Chornobyl disaster has shown that radiation can linger for decades, yet here we are, seemingly untouched. The mystery occupies my thoughts as we venture deeper into this dark, enigmatic forest.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a golden hue across the dense woods, we wander further, blissfully unaware of the danger lurking in the shadows nearby. The thought of being in the forest when the sun isn’t there freaks me out because we are supposed to arrive before the sun settles, but there are no buildings in sight that could have been the military base.

Suddenly, a soft, melodic hum pierces the stillness, drawing my attention. I turn, my heart racing, and there it is—a creature emerging from the darkness.

It moves on all fours, but that is my only certainty. The rest seems straight out of a folklore tale—both terrifying and mesmerizing. Writhing tentacles surround its body, each adorned with delicate strings that dance in the fading light. The creature's face strikes me most; it bears no eyes or ears, just a smooth expanse where features should be. Despite its unsettling appearance, it doesn’t seem dangerous but rather relatively harmless and elegant in how its whole body moves.

A strange calm washes over me as if this creature, though disturbing in form, is not a harbinger of danger. Its movements are fluid, almost gentle, and I can’t shake the feeling that it is more curious than threatening. So the fear washes away, knowing that it isn’t a threat to us, or so I think, because as I stand there, transfixed, I notice that the others with me don’t share my perspective.

In a panic, they raise their weapons, shouting for it to back off. With each step this creature takes, the people's screams become louder and full of fear. My heart sinks as they open fire. The creature lets out a cry, a sound filled with pain that echoes through the trees, piercing my very soul. It doesn’t resist; instead, it collapses, its tentacles twitching in a final, desperate movement. Everything happens so fast. I just stand there frozen in the cheers of the others over the dead body on the ground, only mumbling "why" as a reaction over and over again, with tears welling up in my eyes.