I exhaled slowly, drinking it in. After days of nothing but heat and sand, the sight hit me like a wave. I didn’t realize how much I missed color until now.

“Incredible,” Ella breathed beside me, her voice barely audible.

I nodded, unable to look away. Something stirred in my chest, something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hope.

This wasn’t just more wasteland. This was life.

But that also meant something else.

Where there’s life… there’s danger.

My hand tightened around my weapon. So what? Life always comes with danger. That didn’t mean we turn away from it.

We began the descent, pushing into the edge of the forest. The shift in environment was almost immediate, with thick roots underfoot, leaves brushing against our arms, and strange flora lining the path. I reached out and ran my hand over a soft, fern-like plant. Its surface was smooth, almost velvety. I plucked it and rubbed the fronds between my fingers. A green residue clung to my skin, leaving behind a scent like fresh rain and earth. This was nothing like the dry winds we’d come to expect.

I closed my eyes for a second, just to feel it. Then let the plant fall back to the dirt.

“What do you think, Amelia?” I asked, glancing at the treeline. “Set up camp here?”

She paused, eyes scanning the dense underbrush, still cautious of whatever was out there.

 “Not yet,” she said. “I want a better sense of what’s out here before we commit. I don’t want any surprises.”

I gave a small nod. Smart. We’d come too far to be reckless now.

That’s when Henry’s boot slid on loose dirt. He yelped, skidding downhill in a barely controlled tumble before slamming chest-first into a thick, jutting root. The impact rattled through the quiet, followed by a groan.

He clung to the root like it had just saved his life, then shook out his hands and flashed a weak grin. “Okay… maybe I went a little too fast.”

Amelia just stared at him for a long beat, expression unreadable.

 “…We’ll scout the area first,” she finally said, turning back to the treeline. “Once we know it’s safe, we’ll set up camp.”

I just gave Henry a pitying look before continuing. 

“When do we start?” Ella asked eagerly, already scribbling in her journal, half-drawing some strange plant she’d picked up earlier.

“As soon as possible,” Benjamin replied, his eyes scanning the surroundings, his brows furrowed with concern. “The sooner we get a feel for this place, the better.”

The forest buzzed with life, an orchestra of unfamiliar sounds filling the air. Strange calls echoed from unseen creatures, leaves rustled with movement, and a soft hum of insects created an undercurrent of energy. It was nothing like the barren desert we had left behind. Every step revealed something new.

Armored, frog-like creatures glided effortlessly from steam vents, using the rising heat to propel themselves into the dense underbrush. Bioluminescent insects hovered in the air like drifting embers, their glow painting soft patterns beneath the canopy.

Ella and Emily were in their element. Ella's journal was filled with quick sketches and scribbles, her excitement radiating with every discovery. Meanwhile, Emily rattled off theories, her analytical mind already piecing together the logic of this alien ecosystem.

“Look at the gliding frog," Emily said, her voice tinged with fascination. “It’s using the steam vents to gain lift, probably evolved to rely on thermal currents for travel.”

Ella grinned as she sketched the creature mid-flight, smudges of ink staining her fingertips. “It’s amazing how life adapts, even in places like this.”

I had to admit, it was mesmerizing. One of the creatures launched itself from a vent, its wing-like skin stretching wide, carrying it effortlessly across the clearing. It felt surreal, like watching a world come alive in ways I’d never imagined.

"Don't get too close to the steam vents," Benjamin warned, his tone serious. "The ground might be unstable. The last thing we need is for someone to fall into boiling water."

Henry immediately gave the ground a wary glance, sidestepping farther away than usual.

I couldn’t help but chuckle. Yeah… boiling alive’s not high on my bucket list.

Hours passed like this as we pushed deeper into the forest, the dense foliage creeping in like grasping fingers, swallowing the light bit by bit. The air grew thick, heavy with the damp scent of earth and the decay of foliage. As the twin suns dipped toward the horizon, their dying light bled through the canopy, casting jagged, shifting shadows that slithered across the forest floor. Every rustle, every distant call felt amplified, unnatural, like the trees themselves were whispering secrets just beyond our reach.

"Ok…" Amelia breathed, stopping everyone from going further. “This is probably the best spot we're going to get,” she said as she motioned upwards, at the base of an enormous tree. Its thick, sturdy limbs stretching high into the canopy, forming a natural shelter above. The dense foliage would hide us from whatever roamed below, giving us a better vantage point to watch for danger.

"Tree camp? I like it," Henry muttered, already testing one of the low-hanging branches.

One by one, we climbed into the massive tree, securing ourselves between two enormous branches. From here, the forest stretched out below like a sea of shifting darkness, broken only by the faint, ghostly glow of bioluminescent creatures flickering through the underbrush.

As night fell, Ella sat cross-legged, her journal open on her lap. By the soft light of the moon, she meticulously sketched the day’s discoveries. “These frogs, the glowing bugs, the way the vents work, it’s like the whole ecosystem is designed to thrive off the volcanic activity,” she mused, her voice filled with wonder.

The rest of us settled into a quiet routine, the sounds of the night surrounding us. The rustling of leaves, the calls of unknown creatures, and the distant roars echoing through the trees. Yet, here in the safety of the tree, I felt a small sense of security.

I took my turn on watch, leaning against the trunk as I stared out into the night. The weight of the day sat heavily on my shoulders, but the forest, for all its dangers, was beautiful in its own strange way. The sound of the wind through the trees was almost calming, and for the first time in what felt like days, I allowed myself to breathe.

Sitting against the rough bark of the tree, I let the weight of the day settle on my shoulders. The responsibility of keeping watch gave me something to focus on, something to hold onto in the quiet darkness. The others slept nearby, their soft breathing blending with the night’s symphony. However, I couldn't shake the tension that gnawed at the edges of my mind.

My fingers instinctively reached for my knife, its worn grip familiar against my palm. In the dim light, the polished metal gleamed, catching the moon’s glow. My thoughts drifted back – back to the desert, back to the chaos, back to the moment Ethan was swallowed whole.

The serpent’s gaping maw. The snap of its jaws. The way the ground trembled beneath its weight.

I saw it all over again.

Could I have stopped it? What if I did something differently?

I stared down at the blade, running my thumb along its edge. It was sharper now, but not nearly sharp enough. The serpent's scales were thick.

 My knife would barely scratch its surface. I pictured myself standing before that massive creature again, imagining the knife carving through its hide, but the vision faltered. It wouldn’t work, not like this.

The more I thought about it, the more ridiculous the idea seemed. What was I even thinking? A knife against a beast like that? My grip tightened on the hilt. I needed something stronger. Sure, my pulse rifle could do some damage, but I didn't have it, so what could I use instead? 

I held the blade against a rock, pressing just enough to feel the edge catch before dragging it slowly across. The scraping sound echoed faintly in the quiet night. I needed to keep my hands busy—something to occupy my thoughts—so I wouldn't spiral into the "what ifs" of the past. Sharpening the blade gave me something tangible to focus on with each pass against the rock, creating a subtle edge, as if I could sharpen my own thoughts and resolve in the process.

We barely survived that desert. What about the next threat?

I glanced toward the others, catching glimpses of them as they lay nestled between the branches of the massive tree. Amelia, usually composed, lay sprawled out, exhaustion finally catching up to her. Ella, curled up with her journal still in her hand, as if she had been writing until the moment sleep claimed her. Benjamin, his head resting on his pack, his breathing slow and steady. They trusted me to keep watch, to keep them safe. That trust felt heavy. But it was something to hold on to, a purpose in the midst of all this chaos.

With a sigh, I pushed the blade harder against the rock.

Then, a sound. Faint but distinct.

Scratching.

My body tensed, my hand freezing mid-motion. I tilted my head slightly, straining my ears against the layered symphony of the forest. For a second, I thought I had imagined it, just the creaking of the branches swaying in the wind.

But then, it came again. Closer.

A slow, deliberate clawing against bark.

I tightened my grip on my knife and carefully peered over the edge of the branch.

At first, they were just vague, shifting figures against the dark. But as my eyes adjusted, I caught glimpses of them slipping between the trees. They hung low to the ground, their sleek scales glimmering in the moonlight as they moved through the brush with an almost intelligent coordination. Their heads bobbed as they sniffed at the air, their tails flicking behind them as they prowled the forest floor.

I held my breath, barely daring to move.

They circled the base of the tree, their claws raking lightly at the bark, as if testing it. One lifted its head, its glowing eyes scanning the canopy before disappearing back into the brush.

For a few agonizing moments, they lingered. Each taking their turn to sniff the air and then circle the tree once more.

Then, just as quickly as they had come, they melted back into the undergrowth, vanishing between the tangled ferns and trees.

I exhaled slowly, my pulse still racing.

They were probably hunting.

I scanned the darkness for any lingering movement, but the forest had swallowed them whole. Only the faint rustling of leaves remained, masking whatever else lurked in the unseen depths below. The creatures were gone… for now.

Exhaling slowly, I leaned back against the tree trunk, my grip still tight around my knife. Dam, and here I was hoping for a quiet night so I could finally get some sleep. Sucking in a deep breath, I tried to relax my tense muscles. It didn't look like they could climb, so we were safe at the moment, but in the morning… well, that was a problem for the morning.

The forest’s hum carried on, steady and uncaring. Leaves whispered overhead, moonlight shifting in restless patterns across the branches. My fingers traced the bark beside me, following its uneven grooves, letting the rhythm of the night try to settle my nerves.

A faint creak of movement at my side made me jolt. I turned sharply, half-ready to reach for my blade, before the familiar face emerged from the shadows.

I let out a slow breath. “Next time, maybe announce yourself before you scare me half to death.”

Henry chuckled, the sound low and tired, before lowering himself beside me. “I’ll try… Anyway, looks like it’s my shift.”

“Alright,” I murmured, sliding my blade back into its sheath as I stood.

Henry gave a slight nod, unreadable in the dim light. He rolled his shoulders, loosening the stiffness from the climb, then settled into the spot I’d just vacated. “Get some rest, Atlas. You’ve earned it.”

I lingered a moment, still keyed up despite the fatigue creeping in at the edges. With one last glance at the dark expanse of forest below, I gave a brief nod and headed back to find a spot to sleep.