By the third day, the forest no longer felt like forest.
It felt like a throat.
And Calen was walking deeper into it.
No birdsong. No breeze.
Just the trees—too still, too tall—and that clicking.
Click.
Click.
Pause.
Then a skitter. Like metal legs tapping bark. Then silence.
~~~
[Day 3 – Early Morning]
[Star Stream Core: 82%]
[Emotional State: Focused / Anxious]
[Echo: Internal Surveillance Active]
~~~
He walked faster now, boots crunching on twigs, eyes scanning every branch and shadow.
[No Hostile Detected]
[No Hostile Detected]
[Unknown Signature Detected — 43 Meters West — Altitude: High]
He didn't look. Just kept moving. Branches cracked somewhere high in the canopy.
~~~
By midday, the trail dipped into a mist-shrouded hollow. The trees grew close, their roots tangled like veins, rising from the dirt as if trying to trip him.
His HUD flickered.
[Echo: Warning — Mild Energy Disruption Detected]
"…You feel that too?"
"I don't like it," Echo whispered back.
~~~
Then he saw it.
A sigil, half-carved into the base of a rotting tree. Similar to the one from the cellar, but warped. Its edges glowed faint red, like veins under skin.
[Unstable Blood Magic Detected – 23% Corruption]
[No Recent Activity – Estimated Age: 3 Days]
"Someone passed through here," Calen muttered. "Or something."
Click.
His head snapped up.
A branch twenty feet above swayed gently. No wind.
Then something dropped from the trees behind him.
Not onto the ground.
Just close enough to make a sound.
Thud. Skitter. Tap.
He spun and aimed his Æther Gauntlet.
Nothing.
Leaves rustled. The trees groaned.
And then he heard it.
Breathing.
Ragged. Wrong. Wet and rattling. But too far back to see.
[Echo: Contact Unconfirmed – Suggestion: Retreat to higher ground]
He backed up slowly, boots finding footholds on a mossy ridge. His hand never left the trigger plate.
Click.
Now it was on both sides.
~~~
That night, he didn't camp.
He climbed into the high limbs of an old sycamore, thirty feet up, and anchored himself with cord and spikes.
The wind returned.
But so did the sound.
Click. Click. Scratch. Breath.
From below, he heard something walking slowly through his discarded trail wire.
Then it spoke.
Not words.
Just mimicry.
His own voice. From the dark.
"Should I engage... Echo?"
Silence.
Calen didn't move. Barely breathed.
Then—nothing. Gone.
He stayed awake until dawn, heart slow, thoughts sharper than razors.
~~~
[Day 4 – Dawn]
[Star Stream Core: 80%]
[Mental State: Cold / Steeled]
He dropped from the tree and didn't look back.
He stopped marking the trail.
He stopped making camp.
Something out here learns.
~~~
That afternoon, he found a clearing. Dead quiet. No undergrowth. Just scorched earth and a circle of blackened trees.
At the center was another sigil.
Burnt into the ground.
But this one wasn't recent.
This one was ancient.
He knelt beside it.
[Language Detected — Forbidden Dialect: Demon Script]
[Echo: "Oh no."]
"…What?"
"This isn't bait."
"What is it?"
Echo hesitated.
"A grave."
He stood.
Behind him… another click.
But this time, it wasn't far.
This time, it echoed.
Like claws tapping hollow bone.