Chapter 9 - Chapter 9 - Crimson Thread.

A medieval map sprawled across my screen, familiar yet alien. The same one I'd glimpsed before with its archaic borders and kingdom.

'No turning back now.'

My fingers trembled as I zoomed in, half-expecting the usual <Insufficient Network. Try again.> to crush my hopes.

Loading…

The progress bar crept forward with agonizing slowness, each pixel a test of my fraying nerves.

But luckily, the map responded, details flooding in with each zoom:

The first duchy to side with the Demons.

The irony wasn't lost on me - being trapped in the heart of betrayal's birthplace. I might have laughed if twenty meters away two creatures straight out of fantasy weren't deciding territorial rights through combat.

Another zoom.

Loading…

The Map's resolution sharpened, revealing details I desperately needed yet dreaded to see.

Loading…

'Please! Please! Please! LOAD FAST!'

Each zoom demanded more time than the last, as if the map itself was testing my resolve. 

My eyes darted between the screen and the ongoing battle.

"Krrraaaa… Sssalik… Morrrr!"

"Sssshhhirrr… Kaaath… hissss!"

The creatures were exchanging sounds that almost seemed like language - guttural, primal, yet structured. Part of me wanted to check if could make sense of it, but I couldn't risk the battery. Not now, when the map was finally responding.

SLITHER!

KWWAAAAHHH!

The sounds of mythical combat echoed through the clearing. They were still preoccupied with their dominance display, but how long would that last?

'AH! COME ON! What's the delay for—Oh!'

'Bingo!'

The name was anything but reassuring. But knowing where I was - that was progress. Hope flared in my chest, a dangerous warmth I couldn't afford to trust completely.

'Just be nearby… just be nearby…'

Hope was a dangerous thing in this forest, but I couldn't help myself. Frantically zooming out, I scanned the surrounding area.

There had to be something - some hint of civilization.

'Found one!'

There, at the forest's edge.

Maybe half a day's walk, if this world played fair. 

Which it hadn't, so far.

'Please! Work like you do normally!'

I prayed. In a normal app, you can not just see the location, but also ask for direction.

'Please! Please! Please!'

My finger tapped the name before doubt could creep in.

A simple prompt appeared:

<Directions: Yes/ No?>

'Oh my god! YES!'

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'This fucker!'

Once again, the progress bar crawled across my screen with maddening slowness. Seven days of survival, and my phone chose now to buffer? The irony might have been funny if DEATH wasn't having a boxing match twenty metres ahead.

'Ah, shi—'

The curse died in my throat as reality rewrote itself. A thread - no, a rope - erupted from my chest, its crimson light pulsing like a digital heartbeat. It cut through the space between the battling titans, stretched across the water clearing, and vanished into the forest beyond.

'It's showing me the path.'

The magnitude of this moment should have broken me. Should have sent me to my knees with its impossible implications. But the sounds of fantastical creatures trying to tear each other apart had a way of keeping you focused on practicality.

'I need to leave.'

Following the thread now would be suicide. Even if I wanted to - the only thing I'd be following was a one-way ticket to becoming collateral damage.

'Let's not be hasty.'

KRRAAAAGHH!

BAAAMM!

SSSSS!

I retreated with measured steps, each movement a careful calculation. The forest seemed to understand my need for stealth, drawing me back into its shadows.

…

..

.

"Huuu! What a scary business!"

Hours later, perched in my refuge, my heart still hadn't fully settled. The crimson thread pulsed with my elevated heartbeat, letting me know of the path of freedom - and everything standing between me and it.

"Tomorrow… I can finally leave."

No. Not quite right. Tomorrow I'd begin leaving. The had shown me the true scale of - massive and unforgiving. But I wasn't as deep in as I'd feared, hovering somewhere between the heart of danger and the promise of civilization.

Still…

"Might take a few days."

The smile crept across my face unbidden. After a week of surviving on luck and desperate improvisation, I finally had direction.

Purpose.

"Haha…"

 * * *

Night passed without incident, but morning brought new challenges.

"Huff… Huff…"

The sun bore down mercilessly, marking hours since I'd started following the crimson lifeline. 

"So thirsty…"

My throat felt like I'd swallowed sand.

Gulp…

I swallowed what little saliva I could muster, a futile attempt to soothe my parched throat. 

The water clearing was already behind me, though my mind kept flashing back to that grotesque scene.

"Blurgh!"

The memory alone made my stomach turn - blood-tainted water, chunks of… something floating on the surface, clouds of flies claiming their feast.

'One of the two died.'

And died violently. Even now, hours later, I could still smell that sickly-sweet scent of death.

That must have been forest's way of marking the battlefield.

I hadn't dared drink from the corrupted stream. Some survival instincts didn't need explanation - drinking from a pool of blood and viscera wasn't exactly a strategy for long life.

'If I had drunk that, I'd be dead by now.'

The thought sent another wave of phantom nausea through me. I'd crossed the clearing far downstream, avoiding both the contaminated water and morning's bitter cold.

The last thing I needed was wet clothes in a forest that already seemed determined to kill me.

* * *

The sun's descent painted warnings across the sky. I could have pushed on - maybe should have - but survival in this forest had taught me to respect its rhythms. 

A small cave-like formation caught my eye, more of a shallow indent in a rock face than a proper cave.

'Good enough.'

The crimson thread pulsed steadily through its entrance, as if approving my choice. Two hours of daylight remained - enough time to make the space somewhat defensible.

My fingers brushed against the cool stone walls as I assessed my shelter. Just deep enough to fit my body, shallow enough that nothing could sneak up behind me. 

"Haha…"

The forest had taught a modern-man to find comfort in such compromises.

Gathering leaves for insulation became a meditation of sorts. I arranged them on the floor nicely. Before finally settling myself in.

'How nice would it be if I had fire.'

The thought brought a bitter smile. I'd tried, of course. Those survival videos made it look so easy - just rub two rocks together and voilà, instant warmth. Either they were lying, or I'd managed to find the only rocks in existence that refused to spark.

'Probably rigged anyway.'

The bitterness in that thought surprised me. Seven days of cold nights had left their mark. Though somewhere in my mind, a more rational voice whispered that perhaps the lack of fire was a blessing. 

Light and warmth would be nice, but they also announced your presence to everything hunting in the dark.

'No thank you, I'm good.'