Chapter 4
The sound of crunching soil echoed beneath Ark's boots as he stepped into the forest. The air was different here — thicker, heavy with moisture and an earthy scent that felt almost alive. He squinted against the pale light filtering through the canopy. After days of walking across endless ruins and cliffs, the shade felt strangely comforting.
"Finally, some trees," he muttered, adjusting the strap of his bag.
The path was narrow, framed by moss-covered stones and roots that crawled over each other like veins. Birds sang somewhere deeper inside, soft and distant, almost rehearsed — as if the forest wanted to seem peaceful.
It was too peaceful.
Ark slowed down, scanning the area. The wind didn't move the leaves, and even the distant song of birds seemed to loop — repeating the same tune every few seconds.
He frowned. "Nice try, Mother Nature, but you're not fooling me."
Still, he pressed on. It wasn't like he had another path to take. Behind him lay the endless expanse of broken land, where he jumped around in search of a different place to stay. Ahead, at least, there was a direction — however suspiciously calm it seemed.
As the minutes turned into hours, the atmosphere thickened. The air cooled, and the shadows stretched. Ark rubbed his arms and tried to shake off the sudden chill that crept under his coat.
Then he saw it — a patch of light ahead, like sunlight breaking through clouds. He quickened his pace, brushing past the last line of trees.
The path opened into a clearing.
Sunlight poured through a gap in the canopy, illuminating a circle of soft grass and white flowers. In the center stood a lone tree — black-barked, massive, and ancient. Its roots crawled outward like tentacles, wrapping around stones and soil alike.
Ark stared for a moment. "Well, this looks totally safe."
He stepped forward cautiously, his boots sinking slightly into the mossy ground. The air was still again, almost sacredly quiet. That was when he noticed the figures — standing motionless in the shadows surrounding the clearing.
Dozens of them.
They wore long, faded robes, the fabric stiff with age and dust. Their heads were bowed, faces hidden. None of them moved. None breathed.
Ark's fingers instinctively brushed against the handle of his pistol. "Okay, so it's one of those forests."
At the center of the clearing, beneath the black tree, sat an altar made of rough stone. Upon it rested something faintly glowing — a purple crystal, diamond-shaped and pulsing slowly like a heartbeat.
Ark's breath hitched. "No way…"
It looked identical to the one that brought him to this world — smaller, but unmistakable.
He took a cautious step closer.
The crystal's light flickered. The forest seemed to breathe with it, leaves rustling in unison. A faint hum resonated in the air — too steady to be natural.
Then, for the first time, the System spoke.
[Warning: Area marked as high threat zone.]
[Designation: Forest of Madness.]
[System interference detected. Proceed with caution.]
Ark grimaced. "Yeah, thanks for the early warning. I'm already surrounded by discount cultists."
The crystal pulsed brighter, washing the clearing in violet light. For a moment, he thought he saw the shadows of the hooded figures twitch. He froze, staring hard, but they were still again.
But as he turned to glance back toward the path he'd entered from, it was gone. The trail behind him now ended in more trees — endless, dark, and unfamiliar.
Ark's grip on his pistol tightened. "Alright, that's new."
He spun in place, looking for landmarks, but every direction looked the same — rows of tall trees, twisting roots, and silent watchers.
His heart beat faster. "This isn't funny," he muttered, voice echoing faintly through the clearing.
The figures didn't move. The forest didn't answer.
He forced a laugh to calm himself. "Okay, Ark.. Let's not panic. Maybe the system's just lagging. Maybe if I grab the crystal, this zone—"
He stopped mid-sentence. One of the robed figures had raised its head.
The movement was slow, deliberate. Its hood slipped back slightly, revealing a face drained of color — gray, stretched, and still wearing the faintest trace of a human smile.
Ark raised his gun instantly. "Don't do it," he warned.
The figure twitched again, then stepped forward. Its joints creaked like dry wood.
Another followed. Then another.
Soon, the clearing was full of soft, synchronized movements — an entire skeleton army was turning toward him.
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," Ark whispered.
The first one stepped closer, head tilted unnaturally to the side. Its mouth opened — not to speak, but to exhale a faint cloud of black mist that curled upward before vanishing.
The rest followed, each releasing the same hollow breath. The air thickened with it, and the crystal's pulse grew faster.
[Warning: Unstable energy detected.]
Ark aimed his pistol at the crystal instead. "Alright, fine. You're the glowing rock in charge, right? Let's see what happens when I shoot you."
He fired.
The bullet hit the crystal — and the world went white.
The force knocked him backward. His ears rang. When his vision cleared, the cultists were gone. The altar was gone. The clearing was gone.
He was standing in the middle of a forest path again — the same one he had entered hours ago.
Birds chirped. The sunlight was warm.
Ark blinked. "Wait… what?"
He spun around. The clearing was nowhere to be found. Just endless trees.
For a long moment, he stood still, trying to understand what had happened. Then, after a heavy exhale, he said softly, "Yeah… this place is definitely cursed."