The forest grew quieter the deeper we went. Too quiet. Even the insects hushed, leaving only the crunch of my boots and the faint hum of the Goblin Pro strapped to my chest.
The chat noticed it before I said anything.
"Where are the birds??"
"Bro this feels like Jurassic Park soundtrack about to hit."
"Turn back, idiot streamer energy."
I wanted to laugh, but my throat was dry. The new feed looked almost too sharp—every vein in the leaves, every ripple of shadow, captured with crisp detail that felt wrong. The memory card was doing something. I could feel it.
The witch muttered under her breath, glyphs glowing faintly on her palms. "Something stirs here. Big."
Nyx froze ahead of us, her tail puffing. That was the only warning I got.
The ground moved.
No—that wasn't ground. A thick, scaled body slid out of the undergrowth, wider than a tree trunk, glistening with unnatural oil. My chest clenched as I followed it upward, upward, until my camera caught the head.
An anaconda.
But its eyes glowed red, burning like furnaces. Its mouth split wider than it should, fangs longer than daggers, lined in rows. And the sound—like metal grinding under water.
The chat erupted.
"WHAT THE F—"
"Bro that's not a snake that's a subway train???"
"30k viewers rn and we all gonna die together LET'S GOOO."
I raised my gun, hands shaking. The witch shouted something in an ancient tongue and fire sparked between her fingers.
The serpent struck.
We dove aside, the ground exploding where it landed. Dirt and roots rained down. I fired blind, rounds clanging uselessly off its scales. The witch's flame splashed across its face, forcing it to recoil, but only barely.
"Move!" she shouted.
We ran. Roots whipped at my legs as Nyx bolted ahead. The camera bobbed wildly on my chest, sending shaky footage to tens of thousands of viewers who were probably loving every second.
The serpent was faster. Always just behind. Always too close. Its breath was rancid, a heat that melted bark as it exhaled.
"Ethan!" the witch cried. "It won't stop!"
I knew she was right. The bullets did nothing. The fire only slowed it. This wasn't a fight—it was a chase, and sooner or later, we'd lose.
And yet, some part of me couldn't look away from the little green light on the Goblin Pro. Steady. Watching. Recording everything.
Like it wanted me to.
The chat spammed warnings, prayers, memes, everything at once, their words a blur across my screen. My lungs burned, legs numb, heart hammering.
Then came the moment.
The serpent's maw opened wide, blotting out the sky as it lunged—not at me, but at her. The witch, hands glowing desperately, too slow to dodge.
Time fractured.
I heard the scream.
I saw the endless teeth.
And my hand moved on its own.
I tore the Goblin Pro off my chest and hurled it into the beast's open mouth.
The last thing the stream saw was darkness—then static—then nothing at all.
Silence fell.
And the world held its breath.