Fa, Arya, and TISK set out on the journey to Bates Forest. After three full days of hard travel, the three of them finally reached the forest's edge. The morning mist still clung to the air, and through it the entrance to Bates Forest appeared like a half-remembered dream. Towering trees rose ahead, their bark coated in pale, faintly glowing moss that seemed to drink in the lingering traces of old magic.
Fa walked at the front, fingers tight around the hilt of the blade at his hip, star-bright eyes catching the first light. He turned to his companions, voice steady.
"We're here. TISK, what does your intel say?"
TISK pulled a hovering holographic projector from his pack and flicked it on with a practiced motion. A three-dimensional map blossomed in the air between them.
"Everything we picked up in Green Day Town says Bates Forest has three distinct zones. The outer ring—where we are now—is relatively safe, good for getting our bearings. The middle ring is the alert zone; there's a hidden passage that cuts straight through to the heart of the forest, but it's dangerous. The innermost ring is the forbidden zone. That's where the ruined castle—and the Star Heart fragment—waits."
"Then we start slow, in the outer ring," Arya said, cautious but calm. "We catch our breath, acclimate, and gear up for what's next."
"Agreed," Fa said. "We avoid fights we don't need. Save everything we've got."
Decision made, the three stepped forward and crossed the threshold into Bates Forest.
The Outer Ring
The moment they entered, the air turned cool and damp, thick with the smell of moss and living wood. Fallen leaves carpeted the ground, muffling their footsteps to a soft crunch. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in thin golden spears, painting shifting patterns across the forest floor. Beneath the scent of green leaves lingered a faint, unmistakable trace of machine oil—an uneasy marriage of nature and forgotten technology.
"This place is quieter than I expected," TISK muttered, resting his massive "Earthshaker" warhammer across his shoulder, ready to swing at a moment's notice.
"Don't drop your guard," Fa warned. "Even the 'safe' zone isn't truly safe."
They followed a barely visible trail. Strange plants lined the path: leaves that pulsed with violet light, tendrils that lazily writhed like curious fingers. Every so often a distant growl rolled through the trees, then faded away again, as though the creatures here had decided the newcomers weren't worth the trouble.
After a while the trees opened into a small clearing. At its center lay a mirror-still pool ringed by low shrubs. Stones around the water's edge bore deep, parallel gouges—claw marks from something mechanical.
TISK crouched, scooped water into his palm, and sniffed. "Think it's drinkable?"
Arya produced a slim magical scanner. It hummed softly, flashed green. "Clean. No toxins, no curses."
They filled their high-tech canteens—self-filtering polymer bladders that weighed almost nothing—and moved on.
The local wildlife began to show itself. A small bird with metallic feathers darted overhead, singing in clear bell-like notes. A beetle the size of a helmet crawled past, its carapace gleaming like polished alloy. None of them paid the travelers any mind.
"Seems like they won't bother us unless we bother them first," Arya observed.
"Good," Fa replied. "We're here for the Star Heart fragment, not trophies."
Peace, of course, never lasts long in places like this.
A low tremor rippled through the earth. Leaves shivered. The three froze.
From the underbrush emerged a massive creature—part reptilian, part machine. Dark green scales covered its body; rusted metal plates were bolted into its back; red eyes glowed like furnace coals. It regarded them with a guttural growl that vibrated in their bones.
TISK tightened his grip on Earthshaker. "What in the hells is that?"
"No idea," Arya whispered, "but it doesn't look friendly."
Fa raised a hand, signaling retreat. "Slow. Don't provoke it."
They backed away step by careful step. The beast watched, snorted once, then turned and melted back into the foliage.
TISK exhaled shakily. "That was close."
"Lesson learned," Fa said. "Even the outer ring has teeth."
First Night in Camp
Dusk painted the forest gold and violet. They chose a flat clearing ringed by ancient trees for camp. TISK deployed the portable shelter—press a button and lightweight alloy struts unfolded themselves, sealing beneath a waterproof, magic-treated canopy. Arya kindled a smokeless fire with a snap of her fingers. Fa scouted the perimeter, star eyes piercing every shadow, blade ready.
When he returned he said, "We rotate watches. No exceptions."
"I'll take first," Arya volunteered.
Fa and TISK crawled into the tent. Their training let them drop into light, instant sleep—always half-alert, always ready.
Arya sat by the fire, elven folding longbow across her lap, a glowing arrow of pure light nocked and waiting. Night insects sang. Somewhere far off, something howled and was answered.
A rustle. She rose in one fluid motion.
A small mechanical cat—sleek metal fused with living tissue, eyes glowing soft blue—poked its head from the bushes. It stared at her for a long moment, then vanished into the dark.
"Just a curious little thing," Arya murmured, settling again. Yet the encounter left a question flickering in her mind: what exactly had been done to this forest?
At midnight she woke TISK. He grumbled, took up his hammer, and began slow circuits of the camp. The fire settled into low embers that painted his armor red.
Dawn found Fa stepping out of the tent, stretching, star eyes bright again. "Anything?"
"Quiet after Arya's mechanical cat," TISK said.
Arya joined them, recounting the sighting. "The outer ring is peaceful enough. For now."
"Good," Fa said. "Today we push for the hidden passage in the alert zone. TISK, map ready?"
The hologram flared to life again. "Entrance is east side of the middle ring. We cross the rest of the outer ring, then things get serious."
"Then let's move," Arya said. "And hope trouble stays asleep a little longer."
They broke camp, extinguished the fire, and marched deeper. The air grew colder, heavier. They were leaving safety behind.
Edge of the Alert Zone
Half a day later they reached the border. Trees here grew denser, their canopy a near-solid roof. Light became twilight. Broken mechanical parts littered the ground—evidence of old battles.
"Transition zone," TISK said. "From here on, we walk like our lives depend on it. Because they do."
They stepped into the gloom.
The smell of rot thickened. The ground turned spongy and treacherous. Not far in, they found the first body—a Kintlo scout, chest torn open by claws far too large. Nearby lay more corpses, some burned by energy weapons, some shredded. Fresh kills, all of them.
"Kintlo came this way too," Arya said quietly.
"And something didn't like them," Fa replied. "Keep moving. Fast."
Into the Alert Zone
Fa took point, blade drawn, star eyes scanning every shadow. "Watch your step. Traps everywhere."
Arya walked with an arrow of light already nocked. TISK followed, Earthshaker ready to sing.
They had barely gone a quarter hour when the air filled with the leathery beat of wings. A swarm of mutated bats exploded from the canopy—metal-edged wings glinting, eyes burning crimson.
"Contact!" Fa shouted, and charged.
The fight was short, brutal, and perfectly coordinated. Arya's arrows struck like blue lightning. TISK's hammer sent bats spinning broken into the trees. Fa danced through the swarm, blade flashing, carving wings and throats with surgical grace.
When the last bat fell, the forest went still again.
"Those things could smell us," Arya panted. "Or sense magic. Something."
"Cursed or engineered," Fa said, wiping blood from his knife. "Either way, the middle ring is awake."
They pressed on—and immediately triggered a trap. Spikes shot from the ground; Fa yanked TISK clear just in time. More traps followed: fire jets, ice runes, illusion pits. Each one they dodged or destroyed, but the tension never eased.
Then came the swamp.
Corrosive vipers—half snake, half machine—burst from the murky water. Venom hissed against armor. Fa took a bite to the arm before downing an antidote. They carved their way through and stumbled out the other side bruised, poisoned, and very much alive.
They had barely caught their breath when the forest itself seemed to roar.
A gigantic mutated wolf king crashed through the trees, metal-quilled, two meters at the shoulder, followed by a pack of lesser horrors.
Fa met it head-on.
The battle shook the earth. Arya rained glowing death from afar. TISK held the line against the pack. Fa traded blows with the alpha until he found the soft spot beneath its armored chest and buried his blade to the hilt.
The wolf king fell. The pack fled.
They patched wounds, ate cold rations in a shallow cave, and moved on—tired, bloodied, but unbroken.
More fights followed: mutated boars, mechanical spiders, living vines that tried to drag them into the dark. Each victory cost them, but they were learning the rhythm of this cursed place.
At last they reached a wall of vines and fallen stone. Behind it, hidden runes pulsed faintly—the caravan elder's marks.
"This is it," Fa said, voice hoarse with exhaustion and triumph. "The hidden passage."
TISK smashed the blockage aside. Cool, damp air breathed out from the narrow tunnel.
Arya raised her magic lantern. TISK took the lead. Fa brought up the rear.
They walked in silence for nearly an hour, following glowing runes along the walls. Finally, faint daylight appeared ahead.
They stepped out of the passage—and into the forbidden zone.
In the distance, half-lost in mist and ruin, the silhouette of the abandoned castle waited.