Chapter 2: Whispers of the Mark
The cold wind brushed against Ren's face.
When he opened his eyes again, the world was gone.
The streets, the noise, the towering buildings — erased.
Now, he stood alone in the middle of a dense forest, the trees towering so high they almost scratched the gray, stormy sky. Strange birds with crystal-like wings soared above, singing songs in melodies he couldn't understand.
Ren's heart pounded wildly.
This isn't possible. This has to be a dream...
He stumbled backward, his sneakers slipping slightly on the mossy ground. As he looked down at his trembling hands, something caught his eye — the mark.
It wasn't a scar.
It wasn't an injury.
A glowing symbol — a circle with four tiny arcs curling inside it — pulsed slowly on the back of his right hand. It gave off a faint warmth, almost like a heartbeat.
And then...
A voice.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't human either.
It was like a whisper traveling straight into his mind.
> "Survivor 01 — Connected. Location: The Forbidden Era. Objective: Establish link with other survivors. Initiate survival protocols."
Ren froze.
He spun around, searching for whoever spoke, but there was no one. Only the endless stretch of trees and mist.
Another whisper.
> "Do not trust the familiar. This world is not the past you have studied. Magic has bled into its roots. Survival requires learning. Strength is hidden. You must seek it."
Ren swallowed hard.
Survival protocols? Magic? What is this?
As if answering his confusion, the mark on his hand pulsed again, and another line of instructions appeared inside his mind:
> "First survival mission: Shelter. Find or create shelter before nightfall. Danger increases after sunset."
The trees around him creaked. Somewhere deep inside the woods, a low growl rumbled — something was awake, something big.
And it was not friendly.
Panic clawed at Ren's throat.
He barely had any camping skills back home, let alone surviving in a forest filled with ancient magic beasts.
Still... he knew standing here wouldn't help.
"Alright..." he whispered to himself. "First... shelter."
Ren tightened the straps of his backpack, thankful he had it when he got teleported — although inside was only a notebook, a pen, a lighter, and half a sandwich he bought earlier. Not much, but maybe enough to survive a little longer.
He chose a direction — toward where the light seemed the weakest — and began walking. Every step felt heavier, like the forest itself was pressing against him, testing him.
Hours passed — or maybe minutes. Time felt strange here.
Finally, Ren found a hollow tree big enough for him to squeeze inside. It wasn't much, but it would hide him for the night.
As he crawled inside, the mark glowed faintly again, and another message echoed inside him:
> "Shelter secured. Next objective: Connect with Survivor 02. Searching nearby coordinates. Standby."
Ren hugged his knees to his chest, shivering.
What the hell is happening...?
Where are the others?
How do I survive in a world like this...?
Outside, the forest sang a song of old magic — a lullaby for monsters.
And Ren...
He closed his eyes, feeling the heavy pull of exhaustion.
The adventure had just begun.
And he was already drowning in the unknown.
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