The creature thrashed , its elongated limbs twitching as it let out a wet, unnatural shriek.
Ezra's pulse hammered, but the hunger inside him surged forward, relentless, insatiable.
It wasn't a feeling anymore.
It was an urge.
A whisper in his bones. A demand in his veins.
Take. Consume. Become.
His fingers trembled.
The masked figure watched in silence.
Ezra inhaled sharply. "What happens if I fight it?"
"Then it will fight you."
The creature lurched forward.
Ezra's body moved on instinct.
One moment, he was frozen. The next— he was lunging.
His fingers wrapped around the thing's throat —or what should have been a throat. Its skin was smooth, featureless , its body radiating a wrongness that made Ezra's stomach churn.
But the Sigil didn't hesitate.
It burned.
A violent pulse surged through his chest, twisting reality around him.
The creature screamed.
Not in pain.
In fear.
Ezra felt something shift —as if he were standing at the edge of a vast, unseen abyss.
And then—
The creature collapsed.
Its body withered , flesh shriveling, limbs curling inward like a dying spider.
Ezra felt it.
Not just the physical collapse— but something deeper.
Something being pulled away.
Into him.
A flood of cold. Of whispers. Of knowledge that wasn't his own.
The world shook.
Ezra's vision swam, his mind buckling under the sheer weight of what he had just done.
Then—
Silence.
The creature was gone.
Nothing remained but the hollow echo of its final scream.
Ezra staggered back , panting, his hands trembling.
The masked figure regarded him calmly.
"It is done."
Ezra wiped his mouth, his breath ragged. "What the hell… was that?"
"The first step."
Ezra's stomach twisted. The hunger inside him was still there —but different.
Not weaker.
Stronger.
More focused.
Like it had just gotten its first real taste.
And now, it knew.
Ezra swallowed hard. "What did I just absorb?"
The masked figure's voice was unreadable.
"A lesser echo. A remnant of one who walked the Path before you, but failed."
Ezra's skin crawled. "You mean… that thing was a person?"
"Once."
A bitter taste filled Ezra's mouth. He clenched his fists, forcing the nausea down.
The figure turned away, the mist around them shifting.
"You will hear its whispers. Fragments of what it once was. Some may be useful. Others will be… noise."
Ezra frowned. He didn't feel any different—except for the lingering sensation of something settling into his bones.
The masked figure gestured to the twisted trees.
"Now, the Path awaits. You must walk it."
Ezra exhaled slowly. No time to process. No time to hesitate.
This wasn't a game.
Either he moved forward, or he became nothing.
He tightened his grip on the dagger at his side.
And stepped into the fog.