Philip runs for a while, then feels tired and sits next to a tree to rest. Sweat trickles down his face as he breathes heavily. He looks around, and the sky is still very dark at this moment.
"Maybe I should rest right now," he thinks to himself.
"But…"
"Those cloaked figures must still be searching for me. This might even be their territory. I should find a place to sleep where no one can easily spot me."
Philip begins gathering dry leaves, the rustling sound echoing through the forest. He doesn't realize how conspicuous his actions are, but it's understandable—he has no experience in wilderness survival. Once he collects a large enough pile, he spends more time searching for a flat spot in the pitch-black night. After everything is prepared, Philip lies down and carefully covers himself with the dry leaves, layering them from his feet up to just below his face, leaving openings for his nose, eyes, and mouth.
Not stopping there, he also chooses a spot without branches overhead, worried they might fall on him. Slowly, he drifts off to sleep.
As Philip wakes up, the first rays of daylight pierce through the thick canopy, creating faint beams of light amidst the forest's darkness. He opens his eyes and notices the dry leaves still covering his body. Fatigue washes over him as he awakens from an uncomfortable sleep, but at least this place feels a bit safer compared to the perilous darkness of last night's chase. The strange feeling from his encounter with the masked figure lingers in his mind.
He sits up, brushes the leaves off his body, and stands, cautiously scanning his surroundings. The scenery remains hazy, with the night yet to fully retreat. Towering trees, dense undergrowth, and the earthy smell of damp soil greet him. There are no sounds except for the faint whispers of a gentle breeze.
"So, this is reality and not a dream?" Philip murmurs, frowning slightly and sighing as he gazes at trees he has never seen before. These trees look peculiar, almost as if they don't belong to this world.
Philip steps forward, his feet heavy, each step quiet on the carpet of fallen leaves. The first trees he notices are tall, with sturdy, rough trunks and dense foliage. He recognizes a few species—straight pines and what seem like chestnut and oak trees. However, some have strange shapes, with large cracks on their trunks resembling old scars, as if they had been attacked by something. Clearly, this is no ordinary forest.
Reaching out, Philip touches one of the unusual trunks. Oddly, its surface doesn't feel like any bark he knows from London or anywhere on Earth. It's softer, with a waxy coating. The texture is cool and moist, as though the tree is cloaked in a layer of mist.
He pauses before a small tree, studying it closely. Its pale purple leaves stand out, different from the surrounding foliage. The leaves seem intricately crafted from metal, with sharp fractal-like veins. Philip recalls books he once read about mystical plants, but this tree doesn't resemble anything from the rare herbs in those texts. He guesses it might be a unique local species, though he can't be certain—he's never heard of anything like it before.
Passing through some shrubs, he notices other plants resembling medicinal herbs. Their sweet fragrance fills the air, oddly soothing. Yet, the same aroma unsettles him, as if something isn't quite right in this space. He looks around but sees no signs of animals. Strangely, the forest feels abandoned, devoid of large wildlife like beasts or birds.
The deeper he ventures, the quieter it becomes. No birdsong, no rustling from animals, no strong winds—only an eerie stillness and an oppressive silence. At times, Philip feels as if he's the last person left in the world, which makes him uneasy.
"This must be a dream," he whispers, trying to reassure himself. He still feels groggy. But then, an unshakable sense of unfamiliarity reminds him that everything around him is unlike any forest he's ever known. He tries to dismiss the thought by continuing forward, unwilling to let his worries trap him.
As he reaches a clearer area, Philip notices a small movement—a squirrel darting near a tree root. He immediately stops to watch. The squirrel is tiny and agile, its sleek fur shimmering like a spark of light in the dim forest. It freezes briefly, its bright eyes staring at Philip before quickly scurrying up a tall tree. Its leaps are light, almost silent, barely rustling the branches.
Philip watches the squirrel silently, unable to ignore its graceful, fearless movements. He feels as though it knows this forest better than anyone else, as if it's a mystical being born to thrive in this quiet place.
A faint smile forms on his lips as he realizes he's observing it with unusual curiosity. For a moment, the forest feels a little more alive, though the absence of larger creatures persists. The squirrel remains the sole sign of life in this strange place—an odd yet undeniable proof of existence.
"So, I'm not entirely alone," Philip murmurs.
A part of his mind keeps insisting this is just a dream, an illusion. He might be a part of this world now, but another part of him can't shake the feeling that he is no longer in London, no longer on Earth. This conflicting sensation confuses him. Even so, he continues walking, determined not to let the feeling control him. This journey might turn out to be a significant challenge, but at the very least, he must survive.
Philip starts thinking about his parents, his sister, Tom, and Sarah. By now, they must be incredibly worried, not knowing where he is—just as he doesn't. He imagines his mother and father arguing again, his mother possibly calling the police. His teachers must have informed his classmates, sparking conversations. He hopes they are all okay, but the thought makes him feel an even greater urgency to return.
As Philip walks through the forest, his eyes remain vigilant, scanning his surroundings. He can't forget the strange feeling from the moment he woke up—the oppressive silence of the forest pressing down on him. Every tree, every bush, every branch feels alien to him. It seems as if no one else exists here. The only sounds are his own footsteps and his labored breaths.
After walking for a while, Philip notices a dense cluster of bushes. He crouches down, searching the area, and finds some unusual berries glowing faintly in the dim morning light. Some are purple, others green, and a few emit a soft glow as if radiating some sort of energy—both mesmerizing and strange.
These berries don't look like anything I've ever seen. They glow as if something unusual is inside them. Could they be edible? Or maybe... poisonous? No, I can't rely on intuition alone. I need to collect a few and study them later. Perhaps they could help me survive in this situation.
With that thought, Philip decides to gather some of the strange berries. He cautiously picks the glowing fruits, first trying to use a stick instead of his hands in case they might explode. He places them into a bag he managed to grab from the strange cloaked figures earlier, though he has no idea if the berries are safe to eat. A flicker of hope arises within him as he thinks that if they are edible, at least he will have something to sustain himself.
When his bag is full, he sits on a large rock, takes one of the berries, and examines it carefully. It feels soft, its surface slightly glossy, glowing steadily. He furrows his brow before cautiously taking a small bite. A sweet taste spreads across his mouth, but he refrains from eating more.
They might not be poisonous, but I can't be sure. What if their toxicity takes time to act? I need to stay cautious and avoid eating too much.
Still anxious, Philip swallows the small piece he bit off, feeling a momentary satisfaction from having some food. However, not long after, a wave of fatigue and drowsiness begins to overwhelm him. He realizes that if he doesn't take steps to preserve his energy, survival in this world will be almost impossible.
I can't stay here forever. I need to do something to ensure my survival. This forest is unlike anything I've known, and I can't rely solely on these berries.
He gets up, deciding that it's time to build a temporary shelter, as this forest doesn't seem trustworthy. The coming days will be even harder without a safe place to rest.
Philip sets out to gather dry branches and wood from nearby trees. He knows this will be hard work and time-consuming, but doing nothing isn't an option. One step at a time, he collects long, lightweight branches and begins constructing a simple A-frame structure by leaning the wood against itself in a triangular pattern. Each branch must fit securely, as he can't afford to have the structure collapse. Once the frame is mostly complete, he searches for large leaves to use as roofing, trying to seal any gaps to keep out rain or dew.
I'm no carpenter, but at least I can manage this. It's better than doing nothing.
The process of building the shelter is slow and challenging. The branches are harder to fit together than he expected. But Philip persists, making small progress each time he adds a new branch to the structure. It may not be sturdy, but it will offer some protection from rain and wind, giving him a place to rest for the night.
Finally, after hours of hard work, the makeshift shelter is complete. It's far from perfect, but it's enough for now. Standing outside, Philip takes a step back to admire his work. The shelter looks rough and primitive, but it gives him an unexpected sense of safety.
Philip sits under the shade of a nearby tree, reflecting on his effort. At least I have a place to sleep for the night. If I can survive here, building something better won't be a big problem. I just need time... and patience.
As he rests, his mind drifts to the words of a stranger he met earlier. That man had invited him to join his group, claiming it was Philip's only chance to survive in this world. But Philip had refused, unwilling to associate with an unclear group of people whose intentions he couldn't trust.
No matter what, I can't follow them. I have to fight for myself, survive on my own.
With that thought, Philip steps into his newly-built shelter. He sits down, feeling exhausted yet slightly proud of his accomplishment. As night falls, he knows the struggle to survive in this forest is only beginning. But for now, at least, he has a place to rest and start anew on his journey.
At least…for now…