Jalil took a step forward, his eyes scanning the barren landscape. Grey rocks stretched endlessly in every direction, jagged and uneven, as if the earth itself had shattered and been left to decay in this desolate place. There was no sky above, only a flat, empty void that seemed to press down on him, heavy and suffocating.
He took another step, his feet scraping against the gravelly ground. There was no sound except the faint crunch beneath his shoes and the low, distant echoes that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. He glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting to see someone or something behind him, but the Forgotten Terrain was empty. He was alone.
But as he walked, a strange feeling crept over him, a prickling awareness at the back of his mind. It wasn't just the silence that made his skin crawl. It was the sense that he was going in circles, trapped in some cruel, endless loop. He pressed on, his pace quickening, hoping that if he kept moving forward, he'd eventually find a way out. Yet every path he took seemed to twist back to where he'd started.
He paused, his breath coming in frustrated gasps. "This can't be happening," he muttered, rubbing his forehead. He was exhausted, and the endless walking had drained whatever strength he had left. But stopping wasn't an option, not with the memory of those creatures still fresh in his mind. He hadn't seen them since he'd escaped the line, but he could feel their presence, lurking somewhere in the shadows of this place.
He looked around, searching for any sign of shelter. The thought of being exposed in this open expanse made his skin crawl, and his gaze settled on a narrow opening in the rocks a short distance away. It was small, nearly hidden among the jagged stones, and he doubted it would be much of a hiding place, but it was all he had.
He moved toward the opening, squeezing himself through the narrow gap. Inside, the air was cool and still, and he could barely make out the contours of the cave. It was just large enough for him to sit up and stretch out his legs, though the walls closed in around him, pressing him into the shadows.
As he settled into the cave, he felt a momentary sense of relief. The silence was different here, thicker, as if the rocks themselves were muffling every sound. He leaned back against the cold stone, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. For the first time since he'd arrived in this strange afterlife, he felt a flicker of safety. Maybe he could rest here, at least for a while.
But even as he tried to relax, his mind wouldn't let him forget the horrors outside. The images of those skeletal beings haunted him, their hollow eyes, the slow, relentless way they moved. In his solitude, he found himself giving them a name—Children of Death. It felt right, as if he'd known them by that name all along. They were the guardians of this desolate realm, creatures that seemed to exist only to keep souls like him trapped.
Days, or what felt like days, passed in a blur. Jalil kept to the cave, only venturing out when the silence grew too heavy, when he needed to remind himself that he was still alive, still moving. He'd wander out, trying different paths, but no matter where he turned, he always ended up back at the same spot. The Forgotten Terrain was merciless, a cruel maze that mocked his every attempt to escape.
In those endless, looping journeys, he occasionally glimpsed the Children of Death from a distance. They moved slowly, their scythes dragging against the ground with an eerie, scraping sound that echoed across the rocks. Each time he saw them, he'd duck back into his cave, heart pounding as he waited for the footsteps to fade away. They never seemed to come close, but he didn't dare take the chance.
As the days wore on, the solitude began to weigh on him. His thoughts drifted to his mother, to the lullaby she used to sing, and he clung to those memories like a lifeline. He whispered the words to himself in the darkness, letting her voice fill the silence. It was the only warmth he had in this cold, empty place.
One night, as he lay curled up in the cave, he heard something—a faint, distant sound that sent a shiver down his spine. He sat up, straining his ears, and there it was again. A voice, soft and whispery, echoing through the rocks. It was so faint he could barely make out the words, but it sounded like… his name.
"Jalil…"
He held his breath, his heart hammering in his chest. The voice was familiar, hauntingly so, but he couldn't place it. It seemed to come from the far reaches of the Terrain, calling to him, beckoning him forward.
He crawled to the entrance of the cave, peering out into the darkness. The voice was gone, the silence pressing down on him once more. But the memory of it lingered, filling him with a strange mix of hope and dread. Was it real? Or was his mind playing tricks on him, twisting his memories in this endless, lonely place?
But he couldn't ignore it. The voice felt too real, too close, and he knew he had to follow it. Whatever it was, it was the only thing that had broken the monotony of the Forgotten Terrain, the only sign that there might be something more waiting for him.
He took a deep breath, glancing back at the cave one last time. It had been his refuge, his shelter from the horrors outside, but he knew he couldn't stay hidden forever. If there was a chance—any chance—that the voice could lead him to a way out, he had to take it.
Steeling himself, he stepped out into the rocky landscape, his eyes scanning the horizon as he listened for the voice. The Forgotten Terrain stretched out before him, vast and empty, but he felt a new determination stirring within him. He was ready to face whatever lay ahead, to confront the Children of Death if he had to.