The days blurred together in a haze of hunger, exhaustion, and fleeting moments of clarity. Jin moved through the forest with purpose, his steps becoming more deliberate with each passing day. The once overwhelming darkness of the forest seemed less daunting now. He had learned its rhythms, its patterns. He knew where the creatures lurked and how to avoid them—or fight them. He had survived, and in surviving, he had started to change.
But the victories didn't bring peace.
Jin crouched low by the river, staring at the reflection of his face in the water. He was thinner than he remembered, the sharp angles of his face more pronounced. His hands, calloused and rough, looked different too—stronger, more capable than they had been before. But it was his eyes that unsettled him. They were darker now, as if something deep within had shifted.
He didn't recognize the person in the water. The boy staring back at him wasn't the same Jin who had woken up alone in the Dark Forest weeks ago. That boy had been terrified. He had been broken by the memories of a family he couldn't quite remember, the faces of loved ones he couldn't recall.
Where had they gone?
His heart twisted in his chest, the familiar ache of loss hitting him once more. His mother's voice echoed faintly in his mind—soft, soothing, always there to comfort him. His father's laughter, rich and full of life. They were gone, like smoke in the wind, memories he couldn't quite grasp. The pain of that emptiness had pushed him to the edge of madness. Yet, even now, it was still there, tugging at him, gnawing at him.
His fingers curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He couldn't remember their faces. He couldn't remember why he was alone.
But that pulse… That strange, unfamiliar pulse in his chest. It was always there now, like a shadow following him everywhere, urging him to survive, to fight. It had started small—like a spark in the darkness. But now it was a fire, a burning hunger he didn't understand.
"I don't want this…" he whispered to no one. "I don't want to be this."
But even as he said it, a part of him knew it was a lie. He didn't want to be alone anymore, and this power, this strange gift, was the only thing keeping him from slipping into the madness of isolation. The more it grew, the more it filled the empty spaces within him. The more it became a part of him.
His thoughts were interrupted as his eyes caught the reflection of the forest around him. The shadows twisted unnaturally, and for a moment, he could've sworn the trees themselves were watching him. It felt like they were alive, breathing, waiting for something. His breath caught in his throat.
"Not again…"
Jin straightened, his senses heightened. There it was again—the familiar sense of unease, like a chill creeping down his spine. It was the same feeling he had when he'd faced the creatures. That quiet sense of impending danger. The forest seemed to shift around him, the ground beneath his feet trembling ever so slightly.
His pulse quickened, his instincts telling him to move, to hide, but his body didn't obey. He was frozen, trapped by a force he couldn't name.
What's happening to me?
He clenched his fists tighter. His heart was pounding in his chest, and the energy within him surged again, rippling through his veins like electricity. The power was growing, feeding off his fear, his confusion. He could feel it—pushing him, urging him forward.
"I need control," he muttered, but the words were hollow. He didn't even know what he was trying to control. The power? His fear? Or something far worse, something deeper that he was only just beginning to comprehend?
His breath came faster, the world around him becoming distorted. The trees seemed to bend and warp, their outlines shifting with every blink. The power thrummed within him like a heartbeat, louder and louder, until he couldn't hear anything else. It was the only thing that mattered now.
Then, as if responding to his inner chaos, something moved.
A dark shape, sleek and predatory, emerged from the underbrush. It was massive, its fur bristling with menace, eyes glowing with an unnatural light. For a moment, the world stopped. Jin's mind raced, his body instinctively reacting. His hand shot out, trembling, as if to stop the beast before it could attack.
But then the energy exploded.
It wasn't a conscious decision. It was raw, primal—an instinct born of terror, of desperation. The force erupted from him in a wave, a torrent of power so intense that the ground itself shook beneath his feet. The creature let out a screech as it was hurled backward, slamming into a tree with a sickening thud.
Jin's breath hitched, his chest heaving as he stared at his trembling hands. He had done that. He had… controlled it?
No, not control. He had released it.
For a long moment, there was only silence. The creature lay crumpled, stunned, but still breathing. Its eyes locked onto Jin, full of rage and confusion, but something else too—a recognition, as if it understood the power that had just been unleashed.
Jin took a slow step backward, his legs unsteady beneath him. His heart was racing. His mind was screaming.
What was happening to him? What was this force inside him?
"I need to control this," he whispered again, but this time, the words felt like a prayer.
But it was too late for that now.
The creature began to stir, its growl low and threatening. The forest seemed to come alive around him, the shadows growing deeper, the air growing thicker with every passing second. The pulse of power within him wasn't just a whisper anymore. It was a roar.
He couldn't escape it. He couldn't escape himself.
And the fight was just beginning.