Jin crouched in the underbrush, his breath slow and steady. The scent of damp earth filled his lungs as he watched his prey—a massive, four-legged beast with obsidian-black fur and glowing red eyes. It prowled the edge of a ravine, its muscles tensed like coiled steel. He had been tracking it for hours, and now, it was time.
His fingers tightened around his crude spear, a sharpened bone lashed to a sturdy branch with sinew. His tools had improved, just as he had. The forest had taught him how to survive, but now, he needed to hunt.
The moment he moved, the beast's head snapped toward him. Too late. He lunged.
The spear found its mark, plunging into the creature's shoulder. It howled—a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through his bones. Instead of collapsing, it charged. Jin barely had time to roll aside as claws raked the air where he had been. He landed hard, his shoulder slamming against a tree.
Move. Adapt. Survive.
The thoughts weren't entirely his own. They came from deep within, a whisper of something ancient—something that had always been there.
He pushed off the ground, dodging another swipe, and grabbed a jagged rock. As the beast lunged again, he slammed the rock into its wounded shoulder. It stumbled. A weakness. His instincts took over. He twisted his body, using the momentum to plunge his spear deeper into its flesh. The creature thrashed, its blood warm against his skin, but he held on. He couldn't afford to lose.
With a final heave, he drove the weapon into its heart. The beast let out a gurgling breath, then stilled.
Jin collapsed beside it, panting. His muscles burned, but beneath the exhaustion, he felt something else—satisfaction. Not just for the kill, but for how he had fought. How his body had moved with purpose, responding to threats as if it had done this a thousand times before.
And then, the pain came.
It started as a dull ache in his chest, then spread through his limbs like wildfire. He clenched his teeth, gripping the dirt as his vision blurred. His veins burned, his bones felt as if they were shifting. This had happened before—after every major fight—but this time, it was different.
More intense. More… deliberate.
He gritted his teeth, enduring the sensation. When it finally subsided, his breath came in ragged gasps. He flexed his fingers. Stronger. His body had adapted again.
Then, something caught his eye.
A symbol, faintly glowing on the beast's hide. He hadn't noticed it before. A shape—a marking that stirred something in his mind. He reached out, brushing his fingers over it.
And in that moment, a whisper filled his ears.
"Blood remembers. Power forgotten… will rise again."
Jin jerked back, his heart hammering. The voice had been distant yet familiar—as if buried in the depths of his soul.
What did it mean?
He looked at his hands, at the beast, at the strange marking. This was no ordinary forest. No ordinary creatures. And he… he was changing in ways he didn't understand.
But he would.
Because this time, he wasn't just surviving. He was uncovering the truth.