They stepped out of the tunnel and into silence.
Before them,

the world opened wide,

vast.

The cavern stretched outward like a sunken valley,

its ceiling rose high above uneven stone.

Columns of rock leaned like ancient ribs,

holding the hollow air.

The ground beneath their feet was dry,

cracked, uneven,

scattered with old stones.

The remains of something long fallen.

No grass.

No moss.

Just dust and fractured earth.

Ahead, the terrain shifted.
From desolation to life.

The forest began like a wall of green,

trees rising thick and tall,

their trunks wrapped in moss,

their canopies lost in a slow-drifting mist.

Faint light filtered through spores in the air,

soft and pale,

casting everything in shades of blue-green and gold.

Between the trees, thin streams ran like veins.

The air grew colder,

damp.

Breathing.

Hanna stood with her mouth open,

looking in every direction. 

“Is this… a forest? 

Underground? 

I’ve never read about anything like this.” 

 

Jane took a few steps forward, 

then knelt, 

scooping a handful of soil into her palm. 

She squeezed it, 

let it crumble back to the ground. 

“Never seen anything like it. 

We need to be careful. 

No idea what might live here.” 

 

Hanna nodded. 

“Let’s try to find a place to rest. 

With clean water. 

Our canteens spilled
when we fell into that hole.” 

 

They kept walking, 

leaving the rocky path behind, 

stepping into the living part of the cavern. 

 

Jane glanced toward the moss 

spread across the ground and trees. 

“Han… 

Are these miner mosses too?” 

 

 

Hanna stepped ahead, 

raised her left hand, 

a small flicker of fire blooming at her fingertips. 

She brought it near the ground. 

“Doesn’t look like it. 

Seems like regular moss. 

No reaction to heat. 

 

And even though 

miner moss is called Forest Devourer, 

I think it’s more because they start fires 

after chewing rocks near forests. 

 

But don’t worry. 

We’re safe. 

No more stone golems bursting from walls 

or floorboards.” 

 

Jane gave a faint smile. 

 

“At least one piece of good news. 

Come on. 

Let’s try to find water.” 

 

Hanna followed Jane, 

stepping deeper into the forest.

 

 

 

 

After walking for a few minutes, 

they found a small stream. 

 

Jane sat down near a tree, 

letting her body relax, 

watching Hanna a few meters ahead, 

near the flowing water. 

 

Hanna knelt by the stream. 

With her right hand, 

she shaped a small ice dam, 

just enough to help fill her canteen. 

 

“Jane, 

I think it’s drinkable, 

but just to be sure.” 

 

She grabbed the metal canteen
with her right hand,
now full of water. 

Then, lifting her left hand just beneath it, 

she sparked a flame. 

 

The base of the canteen started to glow red. 

After a few minutes, 

she counted slowly to five. 

Then her right hand,

still holding the canteen, 

began to spread ice over the metal. 

 

The hiss of colliding temperatures 

lingered a moment. 

Then she popped the lid. 

 

“All done. 

Hanna Filter 2.0 to the rescue.” 

 

Jane let out a soft laugh, 

watching from the tree. 

 

“I always think that’s so... 

badass. 

I’ll never get used to it. 

 

Han, 

can you grab some for me too?” 

 

She pulled a canteen from her bag, 

held it out toward Hanna, 

who was already walking over. 

 

“Of course. 

The Hanna Filter 2.0 

is here to save you.” 

 

They both giggled, 

as Hanna turned back toward the stream 

to fill the second canteen. 

 

 

The sound of flowing water filled the silence.

 

 

She leaned forward, 

holding it low, 

the water trembled— 

once, 

 

twice, 

 

three times.



The water suddenly stopped flowing. 

And now it wasn’t just the stream that trembled— 

the ground did too. 

 

When Hanna looked toward Jane, 

she was already on her feet, 

gripping her shield and sword, 

moving quickly toward her, 

eyes locked on something above, 

just behind Hanna. 

 

Hanna turned, 

feeling the vibration again— 

deeper this time. 

The trees began to shift. 

Leaves twisted, trunks groaned. 

 

Then, above the canopy line— 

 

A massive figure passed through the trees, 

not breaking them, 

but bending them softly aside. 

Like a curtain drawn by wind. 

 

It moved slowly, 

each step sinking slightly into the forest floor. 

 

Its body was a fusion of stone and vine, 

tree trunks braided into limbs, 

bark tangled with rock. 

The moss on its back swayed with each motion, 

as if it had grown over decades, 

unbothered by the shape it covered. 

 

Sharp violet crystals protruded from its shoulders, 

growing out like thorns, 

dull at first— 

then pulsing gently from within. 

 

Its face was almost mask-like, 

a ridged plate of wood and mineral, 

with two wide, empty sockets. 

 

At the center of each— 

a single orb of pale light, 

steady, 

watching, 

dim. 

 

It turned its head. 

Toward the right. 

Toward them. 

 

And in that moment, 

the lights in its eyes 

shifted to blue. 

 

The moss shivered.
Its gait changed.

It began walking toward them.

The stream behind Hanna gurgled—
its flow returning in a quiet rush.

Without thinking,
she turned
and launched a blast of ice along the water.

The current froze in an instant,
a spreading sheet of frost racing downstream,
until it reached the creature’s leg.

Its right foot locked in place.
Ice climbed to the knee.

The creature faltered.
Its weight shifted.
Then—
it dropped one knee to the ground,
stone grinding as it caught itself on its left side.

Hanna spun back,
grabbed Jane by the arm.
They ran.

Branches scraped.
Roots shifted.

Then—
a tree trunk slammed down between them.

Not fallen.
Thrown.

The impact tossed them apart,
each flung to a different side of the path.