Darkness. It clung to him like a second skin, wrapping around his mind in an endless void. A man lay motionless on the damp forest floor, his breath shallow, his body still. The thick canopy above shrouded the sky, leaving only slivers of dim light to flicker between the shifting leaves. The air smelled of earth and moss, the distant rustling of unseen creatures whispering between the trees.His chest bore a terrible wound—a grotesque scar that stretched across his skin, as if something had torn into him, reaching deep enough to rip away his very heart. And yet, there was no pain. No burning agony, no freezing chill. Only an all-consuming emptiness.He stirred, fingers twitching against the dirt, his senses sluggish, his thoughts fragmented. Who was he? Why was he here?Nothing.No name surfaced, no memories stirred. The void inside him stretched deeper than the wound on his chest. He sat up slowly, hands pressing into the damp earth. Shadows loomed around him, shifting as if they were watching, whispering in a language just beyond his understanding.His lips parted, as if to call out, but to whom? There was no one. Only the trees. Only the void. Only the gnawing question that clawed at the edges of his hollow soul.Who am I?
* * *
Before he could think further, movement shattered the silence. A dark shape burst from the trees, a shadow rushing toward him. But as it drew closer, he realized—it was not a shadow at all. It was a man. And he was not alone.The stranger ran straight into him, tripping over his seated form and crashing into the ground. His breath came in frantic gasps, his face twisted in sheer terror. "Run," was all he managed to choke out.Before he could react, warmth splattered across his face. A wet, metallic scent filled the air. It was only when the man groaned, body convulsing, that he realized what it was—blood. The stranger's blood.He lifted his eyes just in time to see it—a long, black spear impaling the man's skull, piercing through his eye socket. The body slumped lifelessly to the ground.Yet, even in the face of such horror, he felt nothing. No fear. No remorse. Only a quiet understanding that standing still was no longer an option.Around him, others were running. He didn't know why. He didn't know from what. But his body moved before his mind could question it.And so, he ran.
* * *
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Beside him, two other men ran, their breath ragged and labored. He didn't know them. They didn't speak, but their heavy breathing told him they'd been running for a long time. The forest was ancient and twisted, the trees gnarled like skeletal fingers reaching toward the sky. The farther they ran, the darker it became. The canopy thickened, swallowing what little light remained, making it harder to see each other. But that only pushed them to run faster.One of the men faltered, stumbling as despair threatened to consume him. Then, a cry rang out—"Light! I see light!"And there it was. A flickering glow in the distance, barely visible through the trees. Hope ignited in their chests, burning away exhaustion.They ran harder, the ground a blur beneath their feet. Shadows clawed at them from every direction, but they did not stop.They burst through the dense undergrowth, their breath coming in desperate gasps, only to find themselves standing before a campfire—not small, as it had seemed from afar, but surrounded by armed men. Swords, spears, and shields gleamed in the firelight. Fifteen warriors stood ready, eyes narrowed, bodies tense as if prepared for battle."Stop!" one of them barked. "Who are you? Are you humans?"One of the fleeing men collapsed onto his knees, chest heaving. "Please... I can't run anymore," he sobbed. "Just let us rest. Spare our lives."From among the warriors, a figure stepped forward. His presence commanded silence. "I am Markas, captain of these men. Introduce yourselves and give me a good explanation of why you're in these woods."The kneeling man sniffled, his voice weak. "I am Tadas. This is my brother, Mindaugas. We came to this island searching for immortality, but all we found was death. Our friends... they're all gone. We tried to flee, but it feels like the island itself won't let us leave. Please, have mercy."Markas's gaze shifted to the third man, the one who had yet to speak. His face was still smeared with blood, his expression unreadable."And you?" Markas pointed at him with his sword.The man blinked, as if waking from a trance. "I don't know who I am," he admitted. "I woke up in the forest with no memories. I was lying on the ground when Tadas and Mindaugas' friend tripped over me."Markas studied him for a moment before his eyes darkened. "Then whose blood is on your face?""His friend's. He died right in front of me," the man replied. "A spear struck him through the skull. His blood splattered onto me."A long silence followed. The men around the fire exchanged glances, their grips tightening on their weapons.Then, finally, Markas exhaled. "Alright. Sit by the fire, warm yourselves. You look like hell."The tension eased, and the three men stumbled forward, their bodies heavy with exhaustion. Warm cups were pressed into their hands, the liquid inside steaming and fragrant. They drank eagerly, the heat spreading through their bodies.But soon, their limbs grew heavy. Their eyelids drooped. The world blurred around them.And then—darkness again.
* * *
At the same time, on the other side of the island, a small boat cut through the fog and gently scraped against the shore. A lone figure stepped onto the damp sand, his cloak billowing slightly in the cold wind. His gaze swept across the desolate beach, then up toward the ominous forest beyond.His voice was barely more than a whisper, but it carried through the still air."I hope I'm not too late..."

