The forest tore itself open.
Not with the jagged violence of an explosion, but with the slow, dreadful widening of a wound too deep to heal. Trees bowed inward, their trunks bending like ribs pushed apart from the inside. Roots split beneath the group's feet, cracking open in spirals of trembling bark. The Pulse—the ancient heartbeat of the Spinewood—stuttered, then fractured into discord.
Zerrei stumbled as the ground pitched downward beneath him.
Vessel Five caught him before he fell, its claws digging into the shifting earth to anchor them both.
"…Zerrei… unstable terrain… hold…"
"I'm trying," Zerrei gasped, clutching Vessel Five's arm as the world lurched again.
Lyra seized his other hand, pulling him up onto a more stable ridge as the forest heaved around them. Arden grabbed Oren by the collar just in time before the mage slid into a widening crack in the ground.
"What IS THIS?!" Arden roared as another tree toppled sideways, dragged down by invisible force.
Oren clung to Arden for dear life. "Spatial collapse—THE CREATOR IS REDIRECTING HIS ENTRY POINT—WE NEED TO MOVE—NOW!"
Lyra didn't need further prompting. "Zerrei, stay between us—Vessel Five, clear the path!"
Vessel Five surged forward, slashing apart heavy roots that snapped across their path like flailing limbs. Its movements were precise, controlled, but increasingly strained as the forest's structure compressed around them.
Zerrei felt it in every bone that wasn't bone:
The Creator's footsteps.
Not physical yet.
But nearing.
Closer than before.
Every distortion in the ground echoed with an approaching presence, like reality itself braced for the moment he would breach through.
Zerrei's Heartglow flickered violently.
"Lyra—he's pushing from somewhere else—"
"I know," she said, pulling him up over a fallen trunk. "We get distance first. Then you tell us where."
But distance wouldn't save them.
Ahead, the forest split—literally—forming a canyon of light, tearing the world in two. Blue-white mana spiraled upward, splitting entire root networks. A whirlpool of corrupted air dragged leaves and dust into its glowing center.
Zerrei froze.
"He's forcing a secondary breach—higher, not through the ground—he's testing weaknesses—"
"We DON'T HAVE TIME TO ANALYZE!" Arden shouted as the ground under him dropped half a meter.
Oren's eyes widened. "He's right—MOVE!"
They sprinted.
Or at least, the humans sprinted. Zerrei half-stumbled, half-slid down collapsing soil banks, guided by Lyra's grip and Vessel Five's stabilizing presence.
Every breathless step tore part of the world beneath them apart.
Zerrei felt the forest screaming—not with sound, but with the sense of something drowning.
The Pulse—
once steady—
now erratic.
The forest is dying.
Zerrei stumbled to a halt.
"No—no—stop—"
Lyra grabbed him. "Zerrei, don't freeze! Not now!"
"But the forest—!"
"It won't help if YOU die!" she snapped.
Her voice pulled him back to reality.
He forced his legs to move.
Forced his panic into the rhythm of the Pulse—fractured though it was.
They reached a slope—one of the few stable inclines left—leading away from the canyon of light. Vessel Five led the descent, carving footholds into loose soil, its claws sparking each time a mana surge erupted too close.
Halfway down the slope, Zerrei felt it again.
The Creator's presence.
Cold.
Methodical.
Advancing.
He gasped. "He's… he's not trying to open the rift anymore…"
Lyra steadied him with a hand to his back. "What is he doing?"
Zerrei's breath stuttered. "He's… walking."
Arden tripped. "WALKING?! THROUGH WHAT?!"
"Through the forest," Zerrei whispered. "Like it's nothing."
Oren's face drained of color. "He's bypassing his own breach—using the disruption we caused to anchor his physical presence. He's using raw willpower to force his way between spatial layers."
Arden stared. "I didn't understand a single word, but it sounds TERRIBLE."
"It IS terrible!" Oren snapped. "He's not crossing safely—he's tearing DIFFERENT points of reality open as he moves."
Lyra exhaled sharply. "Meaning the forest will collapse in his wake."
"Yes!" Oren shouted.
Another tremor struck the ground.
This one vertical—like something beneath them kicked upward.
Zerrei screamed as he lost footing—Vessel Five lunged and secured him by the shoulders.
"…impact… external force… from below…"
"BELOW?!" Arden shrilled. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME—HE'S UNDER US?!"
Zerrei shook violently. "No… not under… everywhere."
Silence fell for a heartbeat.
Even the forest seemed to hold its breath.
Then the world split again—
a thin, vertical tear slicing between two trees just ahead of them.
Mana bled out in shimmering threads.
Zerrei's knees buckled.
"It's a STEP," he gasped. "One of his footsteps."
Lyra gripped her sword. "Then he's closer than we thought."
"NO," Oren said. "Closer than we thought means minutes. THIS—" He pointed at the glowing tear. "—means SECONDS."
Arden paled. "We're gonna die. We're ALL gonna die."
Lyra snapped, "We move now!"
Zerrei forced strength into his limbs, his Heartglow pulsing erratically but fiercely.
"I can feel where he's stepping next," he said. "But it's hard—he's stepping everywhere—testing—pushing—so many ruptures—"
"We follow ANY direction you give," Lyra said. "Just don't stop."
They ran.
Through collapsing roots.
Under falling branches.
Across trembling ground.
Between flashes of ruptured space.
Zerrei's vision blurred with golden static. His Heartglow throbbed with every unnatural step the Creator took toward their world.
Behind them, Vessel Five snarled mechanically.
"…Creator… proximity… severe…"
The sky cracked again—hairline fractures streaking through clouds like flaws in glass.
Arden yelled, "HOW DO WE FIGHT A SKY BREAKING?!"
"You don't!" Oren shouted. "You RUN!"
"WE ARE RUNNING!"
"RUN BETTER!"
Lyra shouted them quiet before panic paralyzed them all.
"We do NOT die here. We get ahead of him. Zerrei—where?!"
Zerrei forced himself to feel through the pain, through the fear, through the shaking forest:
"There—northwest—there's a stable corridor—he hasn't crossed it yet—"
"THEN THAT'S OUR ROUTE!" Lyra commanded.
They charged into the corridor.
It was narrow.
Twisting.
Lined with trees that wept sap like blue blood.
Zerrei's chest burned. "This place… hasn't broken yet…"
Oren analyzed quickly. "That means the Creator's influence hasn't touched this channel. YET."
"Good enough," Arden shouted. "Go faster!"
Vessel Five suddenly stopped.
Dead still.
"…silence…"
Zerrei skidded to a halt. "What?"
"…Creator… footstep… halted…"
Oren froze. "He stopped moving—?"
Lyra narrowed her eyes. "Why?"
Zerrei felt it before she finished speaking.
A shift.
A ripple.
A whisper.
Not from the Creator.
From the forest.
A message.
Fear.
Warning.
No more corridors.
No more safe paths.
The next step is everywhere.
Zerrei staggered back, gripping his chest. "He's not stepping anymore—he's preparing to manifest."
Arden shrieked, "HE WASN'T MANIFESTED ALREADY?!"
Oren shook his head. "No. He was stepping THROUGH reality. Now he's entering it."
Lyra steadied Zerrei. "What do we do?"
Zerrei forced himself to breathe—forced his Heartglow to focus, to pulse, to expand outward.
And suddenly—
He felt the direction.
Not safe.
Not sane.
But the only place they could go.
He pointed toward a dark, root-covered archway between two dying trees.
"Through there."
Arden stared. "That's not a path. That's a HOLE."
"It's a path now," Zerrei said softly.
Lyra didn't question. "We follow."
They entered.
The moment they crossed the archway, the world changed.
The air grew colder—unnaturally so.
The silence thickened.
No Pulse.
No forest breath.
Nothing.
Zerrei's skin crawled.
"We're in a dead zone," Oren whispered. "A place the forest already abandoned."
"Why would we come here?!" Arden hissed.
Zerrei trembled. "Because he won't manifest here."
"Why not?" Oren demanded.
"Because there's nothing for him to anchor to. No mana. No life. No structure. He needs resonance to cross."
Lyra nodded slowly. "Then we hold position. Regroup. Breathe. We figure out our next move."
The forest outside the archway cracked—
a deafening echo of collapsing bark and exploding earth.
He was close.
Too close.
Zerrei's voice broke. "He's… right outside…"
Lyra knelt before Zerrei, gripping his shoulders.
"Look at me," she said.
He did.
"Your identity didn't break. Your Heartglow didn't collapse. We keep going."
Zerrei nodded weakly, fear and determination mixing like fire and ash.
Arden sat heavily. "Well… we survived ten seconds. I'll call that a win."
Oren slapped his arm. "GET UP. We need to prepare defenses—"
A sound cut him off.
Not a tremor.
Not a rift.
A FOOTSTEP.
Real.
Physical.
Heavy.
Measured.
Right outside the archway.
Arden's blood drained from his face. "That's—"
Zerrei whispered:
"…the Creator."
Lyra rose, blade ready.
Oren unfolded three layers of arcane sigils instantly.
Vessel Five stepped forward, positioning itself between Zerrei and the entryway.
"…protect…"
A shadow fell across the archway.
Tall.
Still.
Waiting.
Zerrei's trembling stopped.
His heart—his Heartglow—burned with raw fear and defiance.
The Creator whispered—
Not through a projection.
Not through the rift.
Not through resonance.
But aloud.
"The path ends here."