The tranquil harmony that had long defined the sanctuary and its surrounding wilderness began to unravel, giving way to an undercurrent of disquiet that whispered through the towering trees of Jungoria.
It was a shift almost imperceptible at first, like the faintest change in the wind's direction, yet to those attuned to the forest's subtle language, it was a clarion call heralding the approach of a storm.
Among those who felt this change most acutely was I, my senses honed not just by training but by a deep, instinctual bond with the land that had become both my battleground and my sanctuary.
The signs were there for those who knew where to look: a sudden stillness in the air, as if the forest itself was holding its breath; the wildlife, usually vibrant and teeming with life, now eerily silent, their instincts driving them to seek refuge from an unseen threat.
