Han Yu's jaw tightened. "We've messed up," he said quietly, his voice a low whisper swallowed by the mist. "We've really, really messed up."
He exhaled slowly, the breath misting in the damp air.
His body was tense, senses alert for any movement. But there was nothing. Just the endless trees, the fog, and the faint hum of something unseen in the distance... something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
Han Yu closed his eyes briefly, forcing his chaotic thoughts into order. He would not survive by standing still. He needed to regroup, to find Wu Shuan and the others.
Yet deep down, a dreadful thought clawed at his mind.
What if none of them were still alive?
He pushed the thought away. "No. I'll find them," he said aloud, more to convince himself than anything.
