The deeper we pushed into the island, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. The forest around us felt alive, and not in a comforting way. The trees bent unnaturally toward the path, their gnarled branches intertwining above us like skeletal fingers. Mist hung thick and low, swallowing everything beyond a few meters and dampening sound to an eerie hush.
Raijuu was the first to pick up on it—a shift in the air, subtle but charged. His growls were more frequent, low and rumbling, and his sharp gaze darted to every shadow. Kijin walked behind him, her hands faintly glowing as she kept her barrier on standby. Tenko's camera lens glinted in the dim light as she recorded the shifting shadows of the trail ahead.
The chat buzzed with commentary that oscillated between amusement and growing unease:
: The forest is so extra. Is this a dungeon or a haunted house?
: Raijuu deserves hazard pay for dealing with Tsukasa's leadership.
