The Inward Path
As the group stood atop the sand dune, the silence of the desert began to settle over them, replacing the chaotic shrieks of the marsh. George reached out his finger as he touched his tele-stone. The crystal was warm to the touch, its internal light pulsing with a steady, rhythmic beat that mirrored his own heart. Arthur walked over to him, his boots crunching on the coarse sand. He looked exhausted; his golden-blond hair was matted with grime, and his voice was raspy, the byproduct of shouting commands through the humid bog.
"Man, that was a close one," Arthur admitted, wiping a streak of swamp mud from his forehead. He looked back toward the dark, stagnant horizon they had just escaped. "That was the scariest thing I'veeverseen."
"It's only going to get harder from here on out," Flynn replied. He was standing a few paces away, fastidiously cleaning his blades with a piece of torn cloth. His gaze was distant, fixed on the silhouettes of the massive, ancient trees that marked the transition to the next territory.
George looked up, a crease forming between his brows. "What do you mean? We just took down a teleporting reaper. How much worse can it get?"
Flynn sheathed his blade with a metallic click and turned to face them, his dark eyes cold and clinical. "The hierarchy of this forest isn't random, George. The deeper we travel toward the inward zones, the stronger the creatures we'll have to fight. Jenny was a guardian of the periphery. The things waiting in the heart of the forest have had centuries to evolve."
Siri smoothed out her dark, floral dress, though it was now stained beyond repair. She looked small against the vastness of the dunes, and for the first time, a hint of genuine desperation colored her voice. "My, I do wonder if it wouldn't have been more prudent to stay put in Zone A," she interjected. "At least we knew the terrain there. This... this feels like we are walking into a hungry mouth."
"It's true that the creatures in Zone A are weaker," Flynn reiterated, his tone firm as he stepped toward her. "But it's a graveyard. It's filled with nothing but undead monsters and golems. There's very little game to hunt, barely any fruit to gather, and the only water is filled with rot. To stay there is to choose a slow death by starvation. In order to survive, we have to push further in, where the ecosystem is actually alive."
George's grip tightened on the tele-stone. The compass needle within the light flickered, pointing toward the dark interior. "Then we don't have time to waste" he interjected, his eyes fixed on the pulsing aura. "We need to hurry and find Kayn and Nana. They're out there somewhere, likely facing the same things we are—or worse."
Arthur walked over, placing a heavy, reassuring hand on George's shoulder. The weight of it was a grounding force. "I agree, George. We find your friends. The more people we have, the more likely we are to survive the transition to the inner circle."
George nodded, feeling the renewed sense of purpose. The glowing clocktower in the sky still loomed above them, its numbers ticking down with indifferent precision. Twenty days, three hours, and twenty-two minutes. It seemed like an eternity, yet as he looked at the shadowed canopy ahead, he knew every second would be paid for in blood.
"Let's get going," George said, his voice regaining its strength. "The signal is strongest to the west. If they're moving too, we might be able to intercept them with the next few weeks."