Chapter 4: The Forsaken
He continued walking. He didn't know how long he'd walked. He just wanted to find a Cindershrine and move further away—further away from whatever that tree had become.
The air didn't clear up. It still stunk of old dirt and animal dung. It clung to his hair, to his skin, even inside of his throat, making it harder for him to breathe by the minute. But he kept walking anyways.
The ground sloped, cracking in long, jagged seams. The trees thinned out into scanty silhouettes, and the sky above never seemed to change color either.
Sometimes he saw things moving in the distance, but when he stared closer, they disappeared. Sometimes he heard sounds that resembled monsters in the game—low groans, snarls but when he turned, there was always nothing there, or whatever it was didn't want to be seen.
Eventually, he found an ancient-looking building.
It was old, half-swallowed by dirt and rot. Arches leaning like dying things, doorways that seemed to lead nowhere.
From a distance, it looked like it was once a chapel, the kind of place players ran past without a second glance.
It reminded him that he wasn't a player anymore. "I really need to get my shit together and find some hideout soon enough."
He moved slower due to the pain in his body, carefully dragging his steps through the gray dust until he saw something.
Barely visible beneath the blanket of rot and moss....
A faint spiral of light etched into the stone, just right in front of him.