He stumbled up the tunnel, desperate to get out. The steep, smooth walls made it feel like the tunnel stretched endlessly. Nimji was huffing and puffing, his lungs burning in the pitch-dark space.

On the spur of the moment, as he reached for the door handle, the door swung open. Nimji went crashing down the tunnel, the smooth surface muting the sound. He pressed his palm over his mouth and hid behind a nearby shelf.

Strong footsteps approached, sending a cold sweat running down his back. He clutched the smooth glass bottle against his chest, hoping the leader of the wolf pack wouldn’t notice.

“WHERE IS THE POTION? I TOLD YOU IDIOTS TO HOARD THE PLACE, COME DOWN HERE. THIS ONCE!” barked the wolf leader.

Nimji peeked through the shelf books. The wolf—standing on all fours—had a huge scar across his eye, his blind eye staring with soulless white pupils. The long, pitch-white fur shimmered in the dim light. He looked different, more powerful than before, and that didn’t bode well for Nimji.

Then it hit him—there had to be more than one passage in and out of this place.

His theory proved true when the wolf leader walked out the other end, blending into the darkness. Nimji waited for all footsteps to fade before cautiously stepping out.

He emerged near another green tree, sprinting toward Mounchioun. Relief flooded him when he saw Kimji and Somji safe on the bear’s back.

“I’m so glad you guys are okay,” he said, kissing their foreheads.

“But I have a feeling something’s off.”

“Oh come on, don’t worry. Everything’s fine. Kimji and Somji are fine, you’re fine, and that potion—”

For just a split second, Nimji noticed Mounchioun’s gentle bear eyes flicker—just a flash—like a predator’s glint. Nimji froze.

“Mounchioun, are—are you okay?” he stammered.

The bear blinked slowly, shaking his massive head as if returning to himself.

“Yeah… let’s go,” Mounchioun rumbled in his deep, calm voice.

Nimji felt uneasy. Perhaps Mounchioun was only checking the potion, but those flickering moments hinted at something more cunning beneath his normally gentle demeanor.

“Soooo, where do we go?” Somji asked, hovering above them.

“Don’t worry. I have a place,” Mounchioun reassured, leading the way.

The journey was surprisingly smooth—no storms, no snow, no jungle obstacles. Everything felt almost too easy.

Then, suddenly, Mounchioun twitched. His massive bear eyes flickered strangely, sharp and calculating for a split second.

“Um… Mounchioun?” Nimji asked nervously.

The bear shook himself, settling back into his usual calm.

“Oh, um, sorry,” Mounchioun rumbled softly. But the moment lingered in Nimji’s mind—there was a cunning edge hidden under that gentle exterior.

Finally, Mounchioun brought them to a house—a rich, vintage estate. White porcelain statues lined the halls, dark, creaky floors echoed with every step. The warm, cozy feeling of the hut was gone.

“Eeeee, it’s so creepy here! Ekkk!” Somji squeaked.

Kimji reassured her, trying to lighten the mood. Nimji, however, couldn’t shake the feeling that something about Mounchioun was… off.

When Mounchioun went to fetch water for them, Nimji’s curiosity got the better of him. He found a dusty picture frame and blew off the dust. Grey particles danced in the air, tickling his nose.

Inside was a picture of Mounchioun—but not just any Mounchioun. He stood as a massive, gentle bear, surrounded by a giant mob of creatures—tigers, lions, deer, caterpillars, birds—all gathered peacefully around him.

“Hmmmm,” Nimji muttered, tracing a finger over the rough edges of the frame. The glass was smudged, the wood cold and splintered.

Suddenly, with a sharp snap, the back of the frame burst open.