He jolted awake—cold and exposed against the damp earth. Disoriented, he blinked at the twisted forest around him, trees bending and swaying, their limbs groaning as though they held untold burdens.
"Where am I?" The question tumbled from his lips, a weak echo in the oppressive stillness. He winced, a sharp throb emanating from his chest. His eyes darted down, noticing a crimson symbol etched into his skin, glaring against his pale flesh as hot pain radiated from it.
Kurogami's breath came in quick, shallow bursts. He stood, muscles protesting beneath his uncertain weight, and scanned his surroundings. Unease fluttered in his stomach, urging him to move forward.
"Why am I naked?" he muttered, running shaky fingers over the symbol, the furious pulse beneath his skin matching the rapid beat of his heart.
He stepped carefully, leaving the cold ground behind him. The air was heavy with rot and something else—an underlying sense of danger. Brief flashes of memory spilled through his thoughts. His family. His friends.
"Those heartless demons…" he snarled, fists clenched, rage swelling until it threatened to consume him. The symbol pulsed again, its heat igniting a fire within him.
Kurogami stumbled through the underbrush, each twig snap amplifying the pounding of his heart. Unease morphed into panic. A knife? Did he have a knife? The absence clawed at him, leaving an emptiness where memories should reside.
Suddenly, a twig snapped, and instinct shot through him—a cold, wet nose brushed against his hand. He leaped back, alarmed, only to face a pair of glowing red eyes peering out from the shadows.
A small creature stood before him, akin to a fox, its black fur blending seamlessly with the murk surrounding them.
"Easy, easy…" he whispered, fingers twitching as dread tightened around his throat.
The fox growled, the sound low and predatory. Something sinister flickered around its neck—an ethereal leash weaving in and out of shadows. Kurogami's chest heaved, the symbol searing against his ribs.
"Get back!" he demanded, a desperate plea lacing his voice.
The voice from the void returned, clearer this time. It told him, "You have been granted a second chance, Kurogami. This forest is your proving ground. Survive, grow strong, and claim your vengeance."
"Claim my vengeance?" he spat with incredulity.
The fox lunged, testing the bounds of its tether. Kurogami's body acted before his mind caught up. He sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the creature's snapping jaws.
"Damn it," he gasped, searching frantically for something, anything, to defend himself.
With a frantic glance, he spotted a broken branch nearby. He lunged for it, gripping it tightly as he swung it with all his might. The branch connected with a sickening thud against the creature's side.
It yelped, retreating into the shadows, but Kurogami's heart raced with trepidation. Every moment felt drawn-out, thick with danger.
"Just breathe," he murmured. "Focus."
Heavy breaths mixed with the shadows creeping around him. His pulse calmed but unease settled in his bones; he had no idea where he was or how to survive.
As the last glow of sunlight faded, darkness blanketed the forest, the temperature plummeting further.
"Damn it! I'm freezing, starving!" he growled, anger lacing his words. "Could things possibly—"
"Seek cover," the voice interrupted, unwavering.
Kurogami stumbled forward. The chill sank deeper, gnawing at his skin. His desperate search yielded a hollowed tree trunk, a meager refuge from the biting cold. He ducked inside, shivering as the dank scent of decay overwhelmed him.
The voice wrapped around him like a cocoon, lulling him into the forest's ancient whispers.
"Fire will bring warmth. Night predators emerge… don't wander too far."
"Great," Kurogami muttered bitterly, "now I'm supposed to become a campfire expert?"
The shadows writhed outside, the sounds of the forest evolving into a haunting symphony. His stomach grumbled, pleading for sustenance. But what could he hunt without skills?
With resolve tightening around his chest, Kurogami ventured out into the thinning shadows. The moon cast silver splinters of light onto the ground, illuminating a small clearing.
There, quivering in the brush, stood a rabbit—soft and unaware.
He crouched low, gripping the branch tightly, heart racing with possibilities.
"Alright…" he breathed, focusing on the rabbit's delicate frame. "One shot."
With a swift, fluid motion, he swung the branch.
Crack.
The sound echoed like thunder, and the rabbit dropped lifelessly to the forest floor. Kurogami's triumph wrestled against a wave of nausea.
"Did I just…"
The symbol on his chest flared, pain exploding across his body—instant and excruciating. Memories spilled into his mind, vivid and relentless: fear flooding the delicate creature, cold biting through its soft fur as the hunter loomed above.
"Ahh!" he whimpered, clutching at his chest as anguish rocked him.
Visions of a simple life—a rabbit nibbling on grass, a peaceful existence shattered abruptly. The resonance of vulnerability flooded his senses, squeezing his heart until each beat echoed a mournful cry.
"It's too much!" he gasped, collapsing onto the forest floor, his breath hitching. "Get out of my head!"
The voice surged with weighty comfort, "You've absorbed a soul, Kurogami. Its strength flows through you now."
Tears trembled at the corners of his eyes as the memories receded, leaving him gasping for air. But they lingered, remnants of an existence that was not his own.
"Such a burden…" he whispered, trying to catch the sense of self that had slipped through his fingers.
"You will become stronger with each soul," the voice murmured, gentle yet firm. "But remember, each carries its weight."
The threat of uncertainty loomed ahead, but a new purpose burned bright within him. Kurogami would endure. Kurogami would rise.