The sky had begun to darken.
The horizon stretched beneath a canvas of deepening colors—orange fading into violet as layers of clouds shifted and stacked upon one another.
From the depths of the forest, a thick, metallic scent of blood began to rise.
It drifted from the darkness, carried by an unseen force—drawn relentlessly toward a cursed center.
Ravien quietly returned to his human form.
The parasite nestled itself into a small cavity near the base of his skull, just beneath his hairline.
It moved subtly beneath his scalp, its presence barely noticeable—like a thought that refused to surface.
He tilted his head upward, eyes fixed on the sky now painted in hues of twilight.
Underneath that colored sky, his thoughts drifted.
"That was... enjoyable," he mused.
"There were no limits. No weapons, no commands, no rules… I fought purely on instinct. Maybe... maybe coming to this world wasn't as terrible as I first thought.
