"Alright then," Sol whispered into the misty gloom, his crimson eyes burning with absolute, unwavering resolve. "Time to take some risks."
He took exactly five confident, ground-eating strides toward the darker, denser horizon.
Then, he stopped.
The perpetual, silver-green twilight of the Great Orrath canopy wasn't just dimming anymore, it was actively dying, the tiny slivers of sky visible through the overlapping, silver-green leaves were rapidly deepening from a dusky violet to an absolute, suffocating ink black darkness.
The shadows stretching out from the massive, skyscraper-sized roots were rapidly lengthening, swallowing the faint, ambient light of the jungle. The temperature was plummeting, turning the damp humidity into a bone-chilling mist.
Sol's gamer instincts… honed by thousands of hours of survival RPGs and endless webnovel tropes… threw up a massive, flashing red stop sign in his mind.
