Chapter 4
Deep in the heart of an endless forest, the trees rose high into the dark sky. Their trunks were wide and strong, their branches stretching like open arms. The leaves rustled softly in the night breeze, whispering secrets to one another. Beneath them, the ground was soft and damp, covered with a green carpet of moss that clung to stones older than memory. Water dripped from leaves into puddles, forming little rivers that wound through the roots like veins.
The forest was silent. Even the birds had stopped singing, tucked deep into their nests. Small creatures hid in their burrows, too afraid to move. The air itself seemed to hold its breath, as though waiting for something.
A faint rumble stirred the sky, low and distant. Dark clouds rolled together, swallowing the stars. They gathered fast, like an army marching with purpose. The forest grew dim, the air thickening with the weight of a storm. Branches swayed, Leaves trembled. A cold wind swept through the trees, bending them as if bowing to the approaching power.
One raindrop fell.
Then another.
Within moments, the storm broke open. Rain crashed down in heavy sheets, drenching the earth. Mud formed under the trees, sucking at roots and stones. The sound of the rain filled the forest, roaring like a waterfall. It was relentless. It drowned out the chirping, the rustling, even the whispers of the wind.
A flash of white light tore across the black sky. The lightning spread in jagged lines, splitting the darkness like a sword. A thunderclap followed, deep and booming, shaking the ground. The forest shuddered under its weight. In the middle of this storm, where the trees grew thick and the mud ran deep, a body lay on the ground.
He was motionless. His body was thin and fragile, soaked through by the rain. He looked seventeen at most. His clothes were ripped and stained with mud. Pale skin clung to sharp bones. The cold wrapped around him like a shroud. Blood dripped from small cuts on his cheeks and forehead, mixing with the rain that ran down his face. His lips were blue. He looked like a lifeless body abandoned in the forest.
From between the shadows, a shape moved. It was slow at first, almost silent. Two yellow eyes gleamed in the darkness, bright like molten gold. A wolf stepped into the clearing. Its fur was black and tangled, streaked with mud and scars. Its body was lean, ribs showing through its skin, and its steps were careful, quiet, practiced. The storm meant nothing to it. Hunger was stronger.
The beast sniffed the air. The scent of corpse reached its nose It licked its teeth and crept closer, paws pressing into the wet earth. The body didn't move, Not even a breath escaped his lips. The wolf lowered its head, its hot breath creating steam in the cold rain. Drool hung from its jaws, mixing with the downpour.
When it reached the body, it paused. Its snout brushed the boy's neck. It waited. There was no heartbeat. No warmth. The wolf growled low in its throat, a sound of satisfaction. This was easy prey. No fight. No chase.
The beast opened its mouth wide and bit down.
Its teeth sank into the boy's left arm with a sickening crack. Bone split. Flesh tore. The wolf ripped the arm away in one savage motion, shaking it like a trophy. Blood sprayed into the mud, bright against the darkness. The wolf chewed greedily, the sound lost under the roar of the rain.
But the forest was not silent for long.
The storm changed. Lightning struck the clouds again, brighter than before, as if the heavens themselves had taken notice. The wind grew wild, howling through the trees. The wolf raised its head, ears twitching. Something in the air had shifted.
Another bolt struck. Then another. It wasn't random. The lightning gathered above the boy, as if drawn to him. Energy crackled in the air, making the wolf's fur stand on end. It backed away slowly, growling low, its instincts screaming danger.
A bolt of lightning shot down and struck the boy's chest. The impact split the ground, sending mud and water flying. The wolf yelped and stumbled back, its eyes wide in fear. Steam rose from the earth, white and hissing. The boy's body arched upward, glowing faintly in the dark.
Another strike followed, then another. Lightning poured into him, crawling across his skin, wrapping him like he was rejected by the world and must be destroyed.
The wolf bolted back into the shadows, its hunger no match for the power in the air. It crouched behind a tree, peering at the boy with wide yellow eyes. It had hunted many things in its life, but this… this was something else.
The final bolt struck.
The light flashed so bright it blinded the forest. Then everything stilled.
The boy's eyes opened.
They were not dull or weak. They glowed with a strange brilliance, a deep silver light that burned through the rain. He gasped sharply, the sound raw and alive. His chest rose. His heart beat again.
He whispered softly, "The trees… I can see the trees."
The words trembled out of him like a prayer. His gaze shifted upward to the canopy above. Tall trees stretched over him like a cathedral. Raindrops fell from the leaves and kissed his skin. The scent of wet earth filled his lungs. The cold no longer felt like death. It felt real.
His hand clenched weakly at the mud beside him. A thought struck him like a second lightning bolt.
Have I escaped the void?
Memories crashed into his mind, wave after wave. Blades cutting into him. Fire burning him. Shadows whispering things no human should hear. The endless screaming. The endless pain. The void had torn him apart and rebuilt him, over and over again. Time had meant nothing there. Pain had been the only truth.
But this pain, the ache in his broken body, the sting of the rain on his skin… this was different.
A sound bubbled from his throat, weak at first, like a broken thing. Then it grew. His lips curled upward, trembling, forming a smile that did not belong to someone who should be smiling. Laughter spilled out of him. At first soft, then louder, then wilder. It echoed through the storm, bouncing off the trees like a mad hymn.
He laughed in the rain, with blood dripping from his body, with the stump of his arm oozing onto the mud. The storm thundered above him, but his laughter rang louder in his own ears. He had been to the edge of existence. Now he was here, alive. And it was beautiful.
The wolf trembled in the shadows. That laugh did not belong to prey. It belonged to something that had clawed its way out of hell.
Ashen Raizen was relieved because he was finally free.
In the void, he had been broken countless times. In his old world, he had been scorned and mocked. But here, under this storm, with no chains and no screams, he felt alive. His heart pounded strong. His glowing eyes burned with something wild and dangerous. His body was broken, but his spirit was sharper than ever.
The wolf thought after awhile everything was over. It crept out slowly, its steps light on the wet ground. It licked the blood on its fangs,
Ashen lay still. His body was stiff. Cold. He couldn't sit up because his body was already a corpse. But his eyes were open. When the wolf came close again, its nose wet with greed, it suddenly froze in it track.
Ashen's eyes stared back at it.
They were not empty eyes, They were sharp. They were filled with anger. Anger that he himself didn't know why he was angry instead of being afraid. The anger seems to come from his blood.
From the chewed remains of his left hand, something dark and alive began to stir. Black liquid bubbled out of the torn flesh, pulsing as if it had a heartbeat of its own. It twisted upward like a snake. In an instant, it formed a black spike shot out from the injured hand with a sharp piercing sound it went straight through the wolf's chest.
The beast let out a strangled cry. Its yellow eyes widened in shock. The spike pierced its heart clean, and then the black liquid spread through its veins like living shadows. The wolf's body shook violently. Its fur grew pale. Its muscles caved inward as its life force was drained away.
Ashen watched silently as the black slime like spike pulsed. It drained the wolf completely
The wolf's strong body withered in seconds, turning into a thin, shriveled husk. The rain washed over the corpse, but it was already empty. Its nutrients, its energy, its life—all of it flowed into Ashen's broken form.
The silver in his eyes burned brighter.
A faint breath escaped his lips, weak but steady. His chest rose with new strength. The corpse that had once been lifeless now throbbed with something dark and alive. The storm gathered above him as if it, too, could feel the shift in the air.
Ashen stared at the dead wolf, then at the black spike still attached to what was left of his arm. Slowly, the spike pulled back into him, sinking beneath the skin until it vanished. The rain continued to fall, but the forest no longer felt the same.
A predator had died.
Something far more dangerous had awakened.