Night had settled over the city when Ed returned to the dormitory.

The building was quiet, save for the distant hum of ventilation. He tossed his jacket over the chair and sank onto the bed, the faint scent of rain still clinging to his clothes. The bar, the music, and Marline’s laugh replayed in his mind like a film he didn’t want to end.

He picked up his phone and stared at the last conversation.  

His fingers hovered above the screen before finally typing:

*“It was nice seeing you tonight.”*

He hesitated, then hit send.

No reply came, only the blinking cursor in the dark.  

Still, he smiled faintly and whispered to himself, “Good night,” before turning off the light.

The morning came too soon.

The alarm blared at 05:30, sharp and merciless. Ed rubbed his eyes, the faint echo of sleep clinging to him. On his nightstand, the phone screen showed no new messages.

He sighed, slipped on his field uniform, and headed for the briefing hall.

Inside, the air buzzed with quiet urgency. Multiple squads gathered around holographic displays showing topographical maps of dense mountain terrain. The A.R.C. crest shimmered faintly in the light.

Director Barek Joseph stood at the center, his voice calm but heavy.  

“Three disappearances confirmed within the last seventy-two hours. All traced to this area—Sector 9, Northern Ridge. Reports describe a *cabin* that wasn’t there before. Witnesses who entered didn’t survive long enough to provide details.”

He tapped the display, zooming in on a cluster of red markers.  

“We suspect high-level cognitive or environmental manipulation. This mission will be executed by four teams: A through D. Primary objective—containment. Secondary—data retrieval. No heroics.”

He looked directly at Monna and Ed. “You’re with Team B. Field support and sensory mapping. If anything feels wrong, you pull back immediately. The last thing we need is another unsalvageable anomaly.”

Monna gave a short nod. “Understood, sir.”

Ed followed her out to the transport bay where armored vehicles lined the platform, engines rumbling softly. The air smelled of metal and pine resin from the gear crates.

“Another day, another mystery,” Monna muttered, checking her rifle’s calibration. “You nervous?”

Ed gave a dry chuckle. “Only a little. You?”

She smirked. “Always. That’s how I know I’m still alive.”

They boarded the convoy. As the gates opened, a gust of cold mountain air swept through the hangar. Clouds hung low, swallowing the distant ridges in gray.

The road wound upward for hours. The deeper they drove into the forest, the weaker their communication signals became. Trees grew denser, the light dimmer. Eventually, they reached a clearing marked with old logging equipment—abandoned for decades.

“From here,” the squad leader said, “we move on foot.”

Ed stepped out, the scent of pine thick in the air. Birds were absent. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

Monna adjusted her earpiece. “Team A’s sweeping north. We go east. The cabin’s supposed to appear near water, so keep an eye out for reflections.”

“Reflections?” Ed asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “Sometimes the world tells you where it’s breaking.”

Hours passed. The forest grew eerily quiet—no rustling, no insects, just the crunch of boots on damp soil.

Then, one of the scouts ahead raised a hand.  

“Contact. Structure ahead.”

Through the fog, Ed saw it—small, wooden, almost ordinary. The **cabin** stood at the edge of a narrow stream, its roof sagging slightly, its windows dark. It looked too old to be real, too still to belong here.

Monna whispered, “That’s it.”

The team formed a perimeter, motion sensors blinking to life. Ed felt the air around him shift—like the pressure before a storm.

“Thermal scan?” the leader asked.

“Negative,” a technician replied. “No life signs. But… the structure’s giving off a reading.”

“Define ‘reading.’”

“It’s… breathing.”

Ed turned sharply. “What?”

The technician swallowed. “The wood, the walls—they’re shifting heat signatures. Inhale, exhale. Like lungs.”

Monna exchanged a glance with Ed. “Well, that’s new.”

The squad leader spoke into the comm. “Director, we’ve located the anomaly. Proceeding to secure perimeter.”

Static replied—then silence.

Monna frowned. “Signal’s gone.”

A gust of wind rippled through the trees. The air turned heavy, thick with dampness.  

The cabin’s front door creaked open on its own.

Inside, something moved—too slow, too deliberate.

Ed felt his pulse spike. “Monna…?”

She raised her weapon, eyes narrowing. “Stay sharp, rookie. We’re not alone.”

The forest seemed to lean closer, as if listening.  

And from the cabin’s doorway, a voice whispered—soft, broken, and chillingly familiar.

*“Welcome back.”*

Monna froze.

Ed’s throat went dry. “Did it just—”

She didn’t answer. Her eyes darkened, and her finger hovered near the trigger.  

“That voice,” she murmured, “it shouldn’t know my name.”

The wind died.

And the forest, once again, held its breath.