[Again Fifteen Minutes Earlier in a Forest Hut]
In a secluded, worn hut nestled deep in the forest, an elderly man aroung 70-80's with a long, white beard and mustache slept soundly on a creaky old bed. His face was relaxed, peaceful—until a deep, guttural roar shook the nearby trees, piercing the calm of the woods. The old man's eyes blinked open, registering the noise but not yet fully reacting.
Without lifting his head, he mumbled to himself, "A cockroach…?"
His eyelids drooped as he tried to drift back into his nap. But the roar sounded again, deeper, more chilling, and unmistakably inhuman. This time, his brow furrowed.
"No… cockroaches don't sound like that."