Elara stared at the deep purple eyes staring back at her, their intensity like a vice on her mind. Panic surged, overriding any rational thought. Her body reacted before her brain could catch up—she slammed her forehead against his. Hard.

CRACK.

“Ugh,” Eryx groaned softly, his head rolling limply to one side as his eyes fluttered closed. He collapsed back to unconsciousness, and Elara jumped back.

“Damn it!” she hissed, her voice cutting through the silence. The sharp throb at her brow matched the pulsing of her racing heart. She glared at Eryx’s prone form. “Did I just save you only to kill you again?”

The slow rise and fall of his chest reassured her that she hadn’t finished him off entirely. Still, she bit her lip, glancing between him and the dagger in her hand. The longer she lingered, the greater the risk of him waking up again—she didn’t plan to be around for Round Two.

“Nope. Not my problem,” she muttered, spinning on her heel. And then she ran.

The forest closed in around her as she darted between trees, their darkened branches like skeletal hands reaching to slow her escape. Her boots crunched against the mossy ground, the sound unnervingly loud in the eerie stillness. Each step was faster than the last as if she could outrun her anxiety—or the shadow of Eryx’s piercing gaze burned into her memory.

He couldn’t have gotten a good look at me, right? My face was too close. It’d be a blur—just a flash of light and shadow. Definitely no way he’ll recognize me.

The thought looped in her mind like a broken recording. She tapped the side of her head as though the motion might knock sense into herself. Maybe I should’ve hit him harder. Hard enough for amnesia. But no—then he might’ve—

“Nope. Don’t care,” she snapped aloud, silencing her thoughts. She wasn’t sticking around long enough to find out what Eryx might or might not remember. She just had to get out of this damn domain ASAP.

Sliding to a halt, she yanked open her wrist module. A holographic map flickered to life, glowing faintly against the dim light of the domain. Her eyes darted across the display, searching for the exit.

Nothing.

The glowing blue marker that should’ve indicated the exit was conspicuously absent as if the domain had swallowed it whole. A frustrated growl built in her throat. She jabbed at her earpiece.

“Z? You there?” Static hissed in response, and she resisted the urge to rip the useless device off and hurl it into the underbrush. “Perfect. Just perfect.” She slapped the side of her earpiece as if it would magically reestablish the comms. “Useless piece of crap.”

The map in her wrist module blinked again, and her attention shifted to a faint cluster of energy glowing in the depths of the domain. Her lips tightened. The core. She sighed.

“Is everyone else picnicking? What the hell have they been doing all this time?”

Her boots crushed fallen leaves as she veered toward the signature, her grip tightening on Eryx’s dagger. The further she went, the thicker the air became, each breath a sticky, cloying effort. Branches knotted together above her, casting the world into an unnatural darkness. Beneath her feet, tangled vines spread like veins, pulsing faintly as though the forest itself had a heartbeat.

Elara slowed, her skin prickling. The silence was unnatural. There were no signs of monsters, no traces of the other Raiders. No bloodied corpses or screaming egos—all the usual raid hallmarks.

“I can’t be this lucky, can I?” she muttered. Her voice echoed faintly, swallowed by the oppressive quiet.

Raising Eryx’s dagger, she swung it at the nearest vine. The blade sliced through with ease, but what caught her attention was the reaction. The severed ends writhed and recoiled as if burned, curling away from her.

Her eyes narrowed as she tilted the blade, examining its surface. The steel gleamed unnaturally in the dim light, untouched by the sticky sap of the vine. “You’re more than just a pretty weapon, aren’t you?” she murmured.

The dagger seemed to hum in response, an almost imperceptible vibration that sent a shiver up her arm. She pressed forward, hacking her way through the tangle. The vines hissed and recoiled, parting like curtains in the wake of the blade. Sweat dripped down her temple as the humidity thickened, clinging to her skin like a second layer.

After what felt like hours, a faint glow pierced the darkness ahead. Elara slowed her pace, her steps growing cautious. The glow intensified as she approached, revealing the core—a swirling, pulsating orb of light suspended in midair.

But something was wrong. The core wasn’t the usual radiant blue; instead, it pulsed with a sickly rust-colored glow, veins of corruption twisting through its surface like cracks in glass.

“F*cking fantastic,” she whispered. Her stomach churned as she stepped closer, boots crunching on the forest floor.

Then came the squish.

Squish?

She froze. Slowly, she looked down. Her boot was planted firmly on something pale and fleshy. Her heart skipped as her gaze followed the line of what she now realized was an arm.

“Gross,” Elara whispered, quickly stepping off. Her breath hitched as the faint light from the core illuminated the area. Bodies were strewn across the ground like discarded toys, half-buried in the writhing vines. The missing Raiders—she recognized the tattered uniforms. 

“Is there nobody useful in this raid?” She rolled her eyes, flipping the dagger into the air and catching it lithely by the hilt. The vines receded further as she neared the core, as though repelled by the dagger’s mere presence.

Elara glanced down at the weapon again. What the hell is this thing made of? And why is it freaking out the forest?