As Alistar leaned against the crumbling remains of a house once called home by a family, he felt warmth pooling from what was left of his leg.

He gazed upward, watching the black clouds of smoke roll past. Fighter jets, engulfed in flames, plummeted from the sky—just as he had, not five minutes ago.

Desperation clawed at him as he scanned his surroundings for anyone who might help. But deep down, he knew there was no one. He was just fooling himself, clinging to a hope that didn't exist.

A sharp pain shot through the mangled remains of his leg, the same leg that had been kicking a ball around with his squad just yesterday. They hadn't known it would be the last time they'd see each other's faces.

"Easy mission," they'd been told. "Just patrol the skies and report back by 15:00." What a crock of shit.

And yet, Alistar's eyes fell to his wrist, where his watch still ticked away, its cracked screen stubbornly functional.

"Hah... loyal soldier to the last breath, it seems," he muttered, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Fourteen twenty-eight. Still have thirty-two minutes to check in."

He coughed, his chest heaving as warm liquid splattered across his hand. The metallic taste in his mouth confirmed what he already knew—it was blood.

A searing pain radiated from his back, pinning him in place. He tried to move, but his body screamed in protest. Whatever had struck him was lodged deep, refusing to let him go. He checked his stomach, expecting an exit wound, but saw nothing. The warmth spreading down his back told him all he needed to know.

His breaths slowed. His vision faded, flickering in and out. At first, he thought it was exhaustion. Then he felt the uncomfortable heat pooling beneath him.

Alistar knew his time was near. He turned his gaze to his wrist again, but this time, his broken watch wasn't alone.

A plush ball of orange rested beside it.

At first, he couldn't make sense of what he was seeing. His vision cleared just enough to catch a flicker of movement—a soft, warm brush against his fingertips. Then he saw them: amber eyes, locking with his own.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Those eyes held his gaze, anchoring him in place until they slowly cast downward, releasing him.

Following their lead, Alistar's eyes dropped to his watch. The numbers 15:01 glinted back at him, caught in the flickering light. The plush amber-eyed cat licked its paw, its tongue brushing against the watch face.

His last thought surfaced before the darkness took him.

Damn. I didn't make it.

________________________

The rhythmic creak of wooden wheels and the dull clatter of hooves on uneven ground were the first sounds to greet Alistar as he stirred awake. His body ached in ways he couldn't explain, a bone-deep exhaustion pressing down on him like a leaden weight.

The air was damp and stale, tinged with the earthy scent of mud and metal. He opened his eyes slowly, wincing as his vision adjusted to the dim light filtering through narrow slats.

Bars.

They surrounded him on all sides, rusted and thick, forming the cage of a cramped, rattling carriage. Beyond them, the world passed by in a blur of gray skies and dense forest.

Alistar shifted, his muscles protesting every movement. The floor beneath him was rough, splintered wood, and his wrists—bound with coarse rope—itched from the raw friction. Around him, a few others huddled in silence, their eyes hollow and their expressions void of hope.

"What the hell...?" he murmured, his voice hoarse and foreign even to himself.

A sharp hiss came from a figure across the cage. "Quiet," they whispered, glancing nervously toward the front of the carriage. "They'll hear you."

"They?" Alistar's throat tightened as he tried to sit up straighter, his head brushing against the low ceiling of the cage.

The hissed warning was too late. Heavy footsteps thudded against the muddy ground, accompanied by the unmistakable clink of armor. A figure loomed into view.

The guard was massive, broad-shouldered and towering, his frame seemingly too large for the crude armor strapped to him. His face, though human, carried an almost orcish quality—coarse, brutish, and unnervingly primal. His nose was crooked and flattened, as though it had been broken one too many times and never set properly. Jagged scars crisscrossed his sun-weathered skin, tracing his jaw and curling toward the corner of his lip, which twisted into a sneer.

One of his eyes was milky and unfocused, while the other glinted with sharp cruelty, its deep brown color almost black in the dim light. His mouth revealed yellowed teeth, some chipped, others filed to unsettling points, as if he'd chosen to make his already terrifying visage even more nightmarish.

"You lot better keep your damn mouths shut," he growled, his voice gravelly, like rocks grinding together. He rapped the bars with a heavy gauntlet, the clang reverberating through the carriage.

The guard's eye scanned the prisoners, pausing on Alistar. The weight of his gaze was like a boulder pressing down, his twisted grin widening as he took in the sight of the new captive. "What're you looking at?" he spat, his breath reeking of rot and something metallic.

Alistar clenched his fists instinctively, forcing himself not to look away. Something about the man—or whatever he was—set his instincts on edge.

The guard's sneer curled further before he stomped away, muttering under his breath.

As the footsteps faded, Alistar exhaled slowly, his mind racing. This wasn't right. The last thing he remembered was... what? Smoke? Fire? The warmth of something brushing his fingertips?

His eyes darted across the cage, and that's when he saw it.

In the farthest corner, half-hidden in shadow, sat a figure unlike the others. A demi-beast, its form humanoid yet unmistakably animalistic. Its fur was a vibrant orange, marred with streaks of dirt but still glinting faintly in the dim light. A long tail curled around its legs, and when its head turned, its amber eyes met his.

Time seemed to freeze. Those eyes, so hauntingly familiar, held his gaze with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine.

Alistar's lips parted, words forming on instinct. "You... I've seen you before."

The demi-beast didn't respond, but something in its posture shifted—a flicker of recognition, a subtle acknowledgment that left Alistar's heart pounding.

The carriage jolted suddenly, snapping the moment like a brittle thread. The others shifted uncomfortably, the guard barking orders up front. But Alistar couldn't tear his gaze away from the demi-beast.

Whatever was happening, whatever this place was, he knew one thing for certain: this creature wasn't here by chance.

The sun hung high above the trees, its light streaming through the canopy in fragmented shafts, casting shifting patterns on the dirt road below. Judging by its position, Alistar guessed it was just past midday, though the muted glow of the dense forest made it feel later than it was.

The rhythmic clatter of wheels and hooves echoed through the air, a constant background to the dull ache in his body. Alistar leaned his head against the cold bars, his muscles sore and his wrists raw from the coarse ropes binding them.

"Stay quiet. Stay still."

The warning from earlier rang in his ears, the image of the guard's cruel sneer flashing through his memory.

"One wrong move, and they'll make sure you regret it."

One of the guards rode ahead, his armor clinking with every jolt of his horse. His helmet sat crookedly on his head, revealing a thick, ruddy scar that bisected his scalp. Another guard trudged alongside the carriage, his beady eyes constantly darting toward the prisoners with the eager anticipation of someone hoping for an excuse to act.

"Predators. Every one of them."

Yet even they seemed uneasy here, their glances at the treeline quick and distrustful. The forest itself seemed to stir with an energy that put everyone on edge.

Alistar turned his gaze outward, taking in the unnatural landscape. The trees were tall and twisted, their gnarled bark wrapping around the trunks like strange, distorted faces. They seemed alive with something far darker than he was used to, their shapes unfamiliar and unsettling. The light filtering through the canopy gave the undergrowth an eerie glow, as though the forest itself was alive and watching.

Clusters of luminescent flowers pulsed faintly off the side of the road, their silvery glow waxing and waning like they were breathing. Their rhythmic pulse was unsettlingly familiar, almost as if it was mimicking the slow, steady beat of a heart. Strange birds flitted above, their feathers gleaming with iridescent hues of green and gold. Their calls weren't like the chirps Alistar was used to—they were sharp whistles and guttural clicks, setting his nerves on edge.

"What is this place?"

His fingers twitched, his body instinctively tensing as his mind raced.

The last thing I remember clearly was... what? Smoke? Fire? The warmth of something soft brushing my fingertips?

The more he tried to recall, the hazier the memory became, slipping from his grasp like smoke in his hands.

A low growl from the underbrush snapped him out of his thoughts. His head whipped around, his gaze catching on something massive moving within the trees. It was a creature—boar-like, easily the size of a horse—its jagged tusks gleaming like polished stone. Its eyes glowed faintly, pulsating in time with the flowers along the path. The beast stalked alongside the convoy for a moment before vanishing into the trees, its steps silent despite its bulk.

"This isn't just a forest. It's a hunting ground."

"Don't stare too long," came a voice from beside him.

Alistar turned slightly to see a gaunt elf sitting near the bars. Her silver hair hung in tangled clumps, and her sharp features were dirtied with grime. Her green eyes gleamed with wary intelligence, their intense gaze fixed on him for a brief moment before darting away. She sat motionless, her posture tense, as though always on the lookout for danger.

The guard walking alongside the carriage paused, glancing back. His scarred face twisted into a sneer.

"Keep your heads down,"

he growled, slamming his gauntlet against the bars.

"You don't want the things out there noticing you."

Alistar forced himself to look at the floor, though his ears remained keenly alert to the sounds beyond. The guards' reactions confirmed what he feared: the forest wasn't just strange—it was dangerous.

"Three days."

That's what he'd overheard the guards muttering earlier.

"Three days to wherever they're taking us. Three days of oppressive silence, of gnawing unease."

His gaze flickered to the other prisoners. Most sat quietly, their expressions hollow and resigned. The demi-beast in the corner, however, still drew his attention. Her amber eyes remained partially lidded, her tail curled tightly around her legs. There was something familiar about her, even though he had no memory of ever meeting her.

"Three days."

He bit the inside of his cheek, thoughts racing.

If I want to survive—if I want answers—I have to start paying attention.