The eyes moved closer. They glowed faint yellow, steady and fixed on Leon. His grip on the branch tightened until his knuckles hurt. His mouth was dry, his heart hammering.
The thing in the shadows pushed forward. Leaves parted. The shape revealed itself.
It was like a wolf, but wrong. Its body was lean and long, too long, ribs sharp under the fur. Its head was narrow, its jaws stretched further back than they should. The eyes burned unnaturally bright. When it opened its mouth, Leon saw too many teeth, jagged and uneven, some broken, some new. The smell of rot drifted from it.
Leon's breath caught. He had never seen an animal this big outside of movies, and this wasn't a movie. His bare feet dug into the damp earth.
The wolf-like creature crouched low, its claws digging into the dirt. It let out a low growl that shook Leon's stomach. He raised the branch like a bat, both hands clenched.
Then it lunged.
Leon swung without thinking. The branch cracked against the beast's snout. It yelped, snapping its head to the side, but its weight slammed into Leon. He crashed backward into the ground, air knocked from his lungs. The branch slipped from his hands.
Hot breath hit his face. Teeth snapped down inches from his neck. He shoved with both arms, holding the beast's throat back. The creature snarled, drool dripping onto his chest. Leon screamed from the effort, his muscles burning as he tried to keep its jaws away.
It was too strong.
The beast pressed down, paws pinning his shoulders. Its teeth pushed closer, closer. Leon's arms shook violently. His vision blurred. His chest burned. He thought: This is it. I'm going to die here, in a place I don't even understand.
And then—
Something inside him throbbed. Deep under his sternum, a warmth flared. It spread like fire through his chest and arms. His muscles steadied, just for a second. He pushed. The beast's jaws stopped an inch from his face.
The mark.
He didn't see it, but he felt it—an invisible pulse from his chest. The beast jerked, its eyes flickering as if confused. Leon shoved harder, rolling his body to the side. They tumbled into the dirt. He scrambled free, gasping. His hand landed on the fallen branch.
The creature recovered fast, snarling, blood dripping from its nose where he had hit it before. It lunged again. Leon swung with everything he had. The branch cracked against its jaw. A tooth snapped loose. The beast stumbled, shook its head, then glared at him with burning hate.
Leon backed up, feet slipping on wet soil. His arms trembled. His lungs burned. He couldn't fight forever. The beast stalked forward, low to the ground, ready to leap again.
The warmth in his chest pulsed once more, faint but steady. Without knowing why, Leon raised the branch with both hands and stepped forward. His body moved before his mind caught up. The beast lunged—
Leon thrust the branch forward like a spear.
The sharpened end jammed into the beast's open mouth, past the teeth, into the back of its throat. The creature gagged and thrashed violently. Leon shouted and shoved harder, driving it deeper. The beast clawed at him, tearing his side, but he didn't let go. With a final strangled noise, the creature jerked once, then went still.
Leon's hands shook as he pushed the body off him. The branch was slick, the smell awful. His side burned. He pressed his hand against it and felt blood, sticky and hot. Shallow cuts, not fatal, but painful.
He staggered back until he hit a tree and slid down its trunk, chest heaving. His whole body trembled, his arms numb. The warmth in his chest faded slowly, like a coal cooling under ash.
"What… the hell…" he whispered.
He looked at his trembling hands. No glow. No change. Just hands. But he had felt it. Something had surged inside him. Something not normal. It had saved him for a moment, long enough to kill the beast.
Leon sat there for a long time, listening to his own ragged breaths and the forest around him. He had killed something. He had survived. But the fear didn't leave. If one beast could be here, there might be more.
He forced himself up, legs weak, and stumbled away from the body. He followed the stream again, walking slowly, clutching his side.
The forest stretched endlessly. Time blurred. Sometimes he thought he heard more rustling in the distance, but nothing came close. His cuts ached, but the bleeding slowed as he pressed torn cloth against them.
Then he saw it.
Through the trees ahead, stones rose from the ground. At first, he thought they were boulders. But as he came closer, he saw straight edges, carvings, lines too perfect to be natural.
Ruins.
A broken wall, half-collapsed, moss covering its sides. A cracked archway standing alone, leading nowhere. And in the center, a flat stone altar, worn by age but still intact. Strange symbols were carved across its surface, faint but glowing as if traced by fire long ago.
Leon's breath caught. He stepped closer, drawn to it. The air here felt heavy, charged. His chest warmed again, the mark under his skin stirring.
He put a hand against the altar. The stone was cold, but the symbols pulsed faintly under his touch. His vision swam.
A whisper. Not from outside, but inside his skull. A voice, low and distant, speaking in words he didn't know but somehow understood:
"Else-born… marked… the cycle begins again…"
Leon jerked his hand back. His head spun. He stumbled, almost fell. The forest seemed to close in around him. The altar glowed faintly, then dimmed.
He backed away, breathing hard, clutching his chest. His heart raced. The warmth in his chest still pulsed like a second heartbeat.
Something was wrong.
Something had chosen him.