Nightfall.
Aden and Abel walked in familiarity across the strange—although (to them) known world—that had long hidden itself inside the forest. To a stranger, it was a fallen architect of death and terror created for a poor soul’s collapse. To Aden, the forest itself—a symbol in human form, it was just a web of secrets in the pleasure of the night. A museum of eldritch knowledge and… chaos. Some would say… a god’s little amusement. But to Aden, he knew, it was just another testing ground.
And at the end of that testing ground, was just another prize that had been waiting for him. The tribe, Abel had said. The ritual. The darkness of the forest seemed not only to encompass them, but also to linger across their skin and in their head. They could hear whispers. Eerie thoughts being implanted at the back of their heads. Strange pictures… even stranger noises.
All of it, just preparation for the night.
The whi
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