A thick mist clung to the ancient forest, weaving through towering trees like ghostly tendrils. The canopy above swallowed most of the moonlight, leaving the ground bathed in an eerie dimness. The silence was unsettling, broken only by the whisper of the wind and the occasional rustling of unseen creatures.

A young man lay sprawled on the damp earth, his body battered and bruised. His clothes were torn, soaked in dried blood, evidence of a battle he couldn't remember. His chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, each one a struggle as though even the act of breathing pained him.

His eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes filled with confusion and exhaustion. The world around him was hazy, shapes blending together as he tried to focus. His mind was a void, a vast emptiness where memories should have been.

"Where… am I?" His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Pain surged through his limbs as he attempted to move. His muscles screamed in protest, but he forced himself to press his fingers into the damp soil beneath him, grounding himself in reality. Something was missing. He could feel it deep within his bones—a void, an absence of something crucial. But what?

Then, a voice—soft, ethereal—brushed against his consciousness.

"You are not ordinary… You have merely been forgotten."

His breath hitched. The words sent a shiver down his spine. His gaze darted around, searching for the speaker, but he found nothing. Just the trees, the mist, and the unending darkness of the forest.

"Who's there?"

Silence answered him.

A cold sweat broke across his skin. That voice… It wasn't his own, nor was it a mere hallucination. It felt real, as though someone—something—had whispered directly into his soul.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up with trembling arms. Pain lanced through his ribs, but he ignored it. He had to move. He had to find out where he was, what had happened to him, and most importantly, who he was.

He staggered to his feet, legs barely able to support his weight. The world spun, and for a moment, he thought he would collapse again. But sheer determination kept him upright. He took a deep breath, forcing clarity into his fogged mind.

The air smelled of damp earth, old wood, and something else—something faint yet distinct, like the lingering trace of an unseen presence.

Then, the wind shifted.

Leaves rustled unnaturally, and the mist swirled as if something unseen was moving through it. His instincts screamed at him.

He was not alone.

A sharp crack echoed through the air—branches snapping underfoot. His breath hitched as he turned his head sharply, scanning the shadows. His body tensed, every muscle coiling as adrenaline surged through his veins. Was it an animal? Or something worse?

His fists clenched involuntarily. Even though he didn't remember who he was, something deep inside him knew how to fight. His body ached, his movements were sluggish, but instinct whispered that he had once been strong.

A silhouette flickered within the mist. Something was watching him. The presence was neither human nor beast—it was something else entirely. And it was getting closer.

He swallowed hard, his heartbeat hammering in his chest. His mind screamed at him to run, but his legs remained rooted to the spot. He had no weapons, no allies. Just himself, an empty past, and a terrifying present.

Forcing his breath to steady, he took a cautious step backward. The figure in the mist did not follow but remained still, as if assessing him in return.

Then, for the first time since he awoke, a flicker of something familiar ignited in his mind.

Not fear. Not confusion.

A challenge.

Whatever was watching him… he would face it.