The forest stretched endlessly, unfamiliar and alien to Cire. The trees here were nothing like those back home in Caldes, a village perched on the highest valleys of Rodarra. There, the air was sharp and cold, capable of freezing a careless soul to death. But here, the air was thick with heat and humidity, filling his lungs easily. He stood still, stunned.
'What is going on?'
Turning, he searched for the tunnel he'd emerged from. It was gone. The mountain, too. In its place was a sprawling forest, its massive trees encircling the hill where he stood. His heart raced. Thoughts of his family flashed through his mind—his need to bury them, to say goodbye. But anger quickly overtook him, his fists clenching at the memory of the supervisors.
'I need to go back. But how?'
He exhaled shakily, forcing himself to focus. First things first. I need to figure out where I am—and fast. I'm not dying in this forest.
He hesitated, then spoke aloud: "Mrs. Wish, can you… give me some instructions. Anything?"
Only silence answered. Embarrassed, he tried again. "I'm sorry if you're a Mr. I didn't mean to offend you."
Still no reply. The sun hung high above him, its heat pressing down like a warning. He couldn't afford to waste time. Scanning the hill, he spotted a narrow path winding downward. His first goal was clear—find water.
Cire swallowed hard as he looked into the dense expanse of trees. I don't have survival skills. I've never needed them. In Caldes, the elders and his parents had always provided guidance, and he'd never been forced to fend for himself. But here, he was utterly alone, with no one to teach him what to do. He clenched his fists. If I'm going to survive, I need water. Water is life. That's what they used to say back home. It was used to wash clothes, to hydrate, to cook, to live. Finding it was the only thing that made sense right now.
The descent was slow and exhausting. Every step sent aches through his legs, his muscles screaming at the unfamiliar strain. By the time he reached the bottom, the forest had thickened around him, sunlight barely piercing through the dense canopy. The trees here were enormous and ancient, their towering forms both beautiful and oppressive.
After hours of wandering aimlessly, he was exhausted, his throat parched and his legs trembling. And then it happened—his foot caught air, and he fell.
Tumbling down the cliff, his body collided with jagged rocks and tree roots, pain exploding with every impact. When he finally slammed into a tree at the bottom, his body crumpled like a broken doll. Blood trickled from his lips as despair clawed at his chest.
I didn't ask for this. Why me? I am alone in this world. Man, I want to… I want to…
As he was about to wish the worst of wishes, his heart vibrated and pulsed simultaneously. Wish's words echoed in his mind.
"The wish to go forward no matter what."
He grinned weakly. I can't give up. I must push forward.
But something deeper stirred inside him—an unshakable urge to evade. It wasn't rational, nor was it entirely his own. It was primal, a powerful instinct that coursed through his veins. He didn't know why, but in that moment, the thought of staying still became unbearable. His body screamed to move, to flee.
A low growl cut through his thoughts.
"Grrrr…"
Before him stood a massive wolf with white fur and deep red eyes. It was at least five meters tall, its crimson gaze burning with insatiable hunger. Saliva dripped from its sharp fangs as it locked onto him.
The urge intensified. Run.
Without thinking, Cire scrambled to his feet and sprinted into the forest. His legs felt like lead, and his lungs burned, but the strange force within him wouldn't let him stop. It wasn't fear—it was something else. Something that seemed to guide his every movement, pulling him forward with every step.
The wolf growled behind him, and he felt a shift in the air. Something was coming. A powerful force gripped his body, yanking him sideways before his mind could even register the threat.
A massive ball of fire hurtled through the space he had just been in, crashing into a tree ahead. The explosion lit up the forest and sent shockwaves through the air. Cire tumbled forward, landing hard but alive.
'What… just happened?' His mind raced. That wasn't him. His body had reacted independently, moving before he could even think. It was as if something deep inside him had taken control.
He staggered to his feet, his head pounding and blood dripping down his face. His thoughts screamed run over and over, but his body refused to move further. He crawled forward at a snail's pace until he felt a hot breath against his back. A low growl and warm, sticky saliva dripping onto his injured body told him the wolf was directly behind him.
'This is it.'
He wasn't afraid—he was ashamed. Ashamed of his weakness, of his inability to face this monster. At least I won't die like a coward.
He turned his battered body to face the wolf, looking it directly in the eyes. The beast's jaws opened wide, its teeth gleaming in the dim light. And then—
A deafening explosion blinded him.
"First Key: Enhancement!"
Cire's eyes struggled to focus, but he saw a figure through the haze of smoke and fire. A man stood tall, his black armor gleaming faintly in the light of the blaze. He wielded a sword etched with glowing runes, golden light dancing along the blade. The wolf growled, staggering backward, its fur singed and bloody.
The man didn't wait. He raised the sword with a single, fluid motion, bringing it down in a powerful arc. The blade cleaved through the wolf's massive form, splitting it cleanly in two. The beast let out a final, ear-splitting cry before its body dissolved into ash.
The man sheathed his sword and turned to face Cire. His face was obscured by a sleek black mask adorned with silver patterns. The eye slits glowed faintly, their silver light cold and unreadable.
He approached, his footsteps steady and deliberate.
"Well," the man said dryly, "you're in worse shape than I expected."
Cire tried to speak, but no words came out.
"Relax," the man said, kneeling beside him. "You're not dying just yet." He pressed a hand to Cire's chest, and warmth began to spread through his broken body. His pain dulled, and his breathing steadied.
Cire's vision blurred again, his eyelids growing heavy. He tried to fight it, but the exhaustion was overwhelming.
"Wait… who…?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
The man didn't answer. His masked face was the last thing Cire saw before his eyes closed and the world faded into darkness.