The blackened wood still held its shape, unburned through. It hadn't burned out from time, it was put out.
Extinguished. Recently.
Beside it, a nest of leaves and moss—carefully arranged. Pressed flat in the center. Not wild scatter or natural growth. Someone had laid there. Rested there.
"Someone was here," Lana muttered. Her voice was quieter now. Tense.
Vlad crouched beside the fire pit, two fingers hovering over the ashes.
He didn't touch—just stared. Then picked up a leaf.
"Not long ago. This leaf isn't even completely burnt yet."
She circled the edge of the shelter, blade still drawn. Her head turned toward the wet outside.
"Maybe still nearby."
Vlad glanced around the interior again, as if expecting someone to be hiding just beyond sight.
There wasn't, but every branch now felt like it was watching.
"But why leave? This spot's good. Dry. Secure. They had a fire," His voice dropped. "They rested here."
"Then they moved. Or were forced to," Lana said flatly. "You know how this forest works."
Vlad stood slowly.
They were both thinking. Another cadet? Or a scouting agent? Maybe even someone trying to survive long enough to be found.
Or something else entirely…
He tried to shake off the exhaustion fogging his mind. A campfire meant survivors. It meant someone—maybe even another cadet—had made it this far. But it also meant danger. In the Bentree, heat and light drew attention.
Which they had experienced firsthand.
He crouched again, studying the remnants of the fire. Blackened twigs. Broken branch fragments arranged with care. Not random debris. Someone had taken the time to craft this properly.
"Should we even stay here?" Lana said to Vlad.
"Do you want to run around to find another shelter in that rain?"
Lana was quiet.
Vlad continued:
"I'll go and check if those things followed us. You make a fire."
Unlike before, this time, they were surrounded by walls made of Bentree limbs. That's why Vlad thought…
…the fire should be hidden enough.
Lana didn't object, seemingly having the same thought as him.
***
Vlad stepped out slowly, legs finding careful purchase on the slick surface of the thick supporting branch that cradled the hollow. The world opened again—crimson light bleeding through the rain, branches stretching into a maze of twisted silhouettes. The downpour had dulled to a heavy mist, but everything was still soaked, dripping, alive with motion.
He surveyed the sodden landscape, his gaze sweeping across the dripping foliage and Bentree limbs. The air hung heavy, saturated with the spicy aroma, a scent that felt wrong yet calming.
After a few steps, Vlad noticed something red on the skin-like bark of the tree getting washed away by the downpour and then appearing again.
A flicker of unease tightened his jaw.
Blood?
His gaze followed the crimson trail upwards. Above on a branch, grotesquely bisected, lay a Vulturov. The mutant was unnaturally cut right down the middle, the cut so precise it defied comprehension. It's as if some unseen force, impossibly sharp, simply sliced through it without resistance.
But only half of its body was there.
Vlad's eyes narrowed, his attention immediately drawn to the missing portion. He scanned the surrounding branches, trying to locate the other half of the butchered mutant. Just as he began to move, a sudden, powerful gust of wind whipped through the trees, causing some of the branches to sway violently and the rain to lash down with renewed intensity.
Far below, something splashed in the dark waters of the swamp.
But the violently swaying leaves, and the rain lashing down with more intensity, obscured his view.
Driven by a need to see more clearly, Vlad shifted his position, carefully maneuvering through the dense foliage. He peered through a gap in the leaves, he held his breath.
Below, in the dark swamp water, two massive twisting branches of the bentree floated serenely. They weren't as large as the colossal limb that had hung from the vines which he… shot? Exploded down, but their sheer size was still shocking.
Even these massive branches were sliced cleanly off, the cuts eerily precise. Could it be the same terrifying force that had butchered the Vulturov? The thought sent a fresh wave of unease through him. This was no ordinary predator; the power at play here was immense and unsettling.
Maybe it's friendly. Maybe it just hates trees. And Vulturovs.
It lives in a forest though…
He exhaled and looked up.
It even gave us half its food.
Vlad stared at the dead Vulturov for a few seconds.
"Time to go get dinner."
***
Clutching the carcass of the mutant, Vlad eventually found his way back to the shelter made from the bentree's branches. A small fire crackled merrily within the enclosure, casting flickering shadows on the damp surroundings and offering a welcome warmth against the persistent chill. The scent of woodsmoke mingled with the spicy aroma, creating a small pocket of relative calm and comfort in the heart of the wild.
Lana was sitting by the fire, tending to it. Her face was illuminated by the crackling flames. The light caught the curve of her jaw and highlighted the sharpness of her features—pale skin glowing with an eerie orange hue, the shadows around her eyes deepening as she turned to look at him.
I think I like freckles.
Do we?
Vlad was quickly snapped out of his daze by a surprised voice.
"What the hell is that?" Lana asked, standing up, eyes on the gruesome figure in disbelief.
Vlad dropped the carcass with a dull thud and exhaled.
"Dinner. And I guess a gift from Satan's garden's landscaper?"
Lana's brows furrowed looking at him. Then she scanned the bloody mess in front of her.
"What killed it?"
Vlad's gaze darkened as he straightened up, his voice low.
"I don't know. Whatever it is, it's not something I want to meet."
Lana didn't say a word, but her expression conveyed many questions.
***
Vlad told her everything—how he had found the butchered Vulturov bleeding away in a branch above them and about the two massive branches floating in the dark swamp waters below.
"...and that branch from before was cut the exact same way as the ones in the water. Whatever the thing is, it clearly went through here."
Lana sat cross-legged in silence for a few seconds, looking at the flames. The fire crackled softly, casting slow, rhythmic pulses of light across her face.
"If you are right then we're in big trouble."
"That's the part I was trying not to say out loud."
After a moment of silence, Lana continued:
"Even those mutants from earlier were working together…"
"Yeah, we're probably in a Great-Disaster's territory..."