The voice was quiet.
"Wake up."
The first thing I noticed was the cold beneath me.
Damp leaves clung to my clothes, soaking through the fabric. Every breath carried the smell of wet earth and pine. Towering trees boxed me in from every direction, their branches swallowing most of the morning light.
I got to my feet.
No roads were visible, only a narrow trail winding further into the woods. In the distance, wood cracked once, then fell silent. A headache struck shortly after, and I pressed two fingers against my temple.
My room. The monitor. Another useless browse of a game’s wiki. That was all I could recall. Anything after that was blank. I could recall a few visions, but they didn’t feel right, and I couldn’t bring myself to remember them, or piece them together at all.
A flicker of silver appeared at the edge of my vision. Thin lines spread across empty air, intersecting until they formed a translucent window.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
SIGIL
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Name: Aseren Voric Azthal
Status: Unawakened
Rank: —
Evolution: —
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
I stared at it for a long second before reaching out. My hand passed through. The window rippled once and dissolved into drifting fragments of light.
"...What."
Hallucinations weren’t a good sign, and waking up in an unfamiliar forest wasn’t better. I crouched down and grabbed a handful of moist soil.
Real.
The bark scraped my palm, rough, real. I exhaled slowly, realizing standing here wouldn’t clarify anything. Another crack sounded through the trees, closer now. I brushed the dirt off my hand and continued along the trail.
Just where the hell am I. My thoughts felt heavy, as if my mind was drained. I kept walking, noticing the forest’s slightly eerie atmosphere. Is this a prank someone decided to pull on me? Or maybe someone with a grudge did this, it’s not entirely out of the realm of possibility. I rubbed my shoulder as I continued walking.
As my tired mind started to regain clarity, coherent thoughts gradually formed, and I recalled the screen that had appeared before me a few minutes earlier.
The sigil.
I stopped walking and called out my status, which appeared before me again as a large "SIGIL," branding itself as a grim reminder of my current situation.
"Wait, wait, no, no, damn it, wait, am I dreaming? Maybe I am," I nearly started losing my mind. "Hahah, fuck, I’ve really gone crazy, haven’t I? Now I’m thinking I’m in some kind of game." My voice was loud as I laughed, then it dropped to a whisper.
I was denying reality because I simply didn’t want to engage in this kind of game. This was a horror universe set in a nearly destroyed world filled with eldritch entities. Any hint of knowledge about them would attract their attention, and death would be the least of your concerns.
"FUCK!" I exclaimed loudly.
A bitter laugh slipped out. "I see... So this is my punishment." The thought lingered for a second before I shook my head. "No. I’ve been paying for plenty long before this." I looked up through the trees. "...So why here?"
There was no point fussing now, I had to assess my current situation. I needed to find out where I was and how to escape. So I started walking toward the area that had been making wood-cutting noise since earlier.
The smell of fresh-cut timber reached me before I saw anything, mixed with wood smoke drifting through the trees, warm enough to stand out against the cold forest air. The trail beneath my feet widened, the dense pines gradually giving way until I finally stepped out from the tree line.
A village stretched across the valley below. Timber houses gathered around a wide square, smoke drifting from stone chimneys. Farmers unloaded grain sacks and split logs near stacks of firewood. A blacksmith worked under an open forge, each hammer blow resonating in the morning air. Children ran between wagons, oblivious to anything beyond the walls.
It appeared calm, almost too calm.
A weathered wooden sign stood beside the road. Millhaven.
I frowned. The name didn’t have any significance to me; I hadn’t come across it in the wiki. Still, something about this place made my shoulders tense. It might have been the feeling of isolation, or the fact that I woke up alone in the middle of nowhere. Or maybe it was simply because my instincts hadn’t stopped screaming since I opened my eyes.
I glanced back. The forest behind me stood completely still.
Then someone shouted.
"HEY!"
A man stood beside the village gate, waving both arms. Gray beard, heavy hunting coat, a rifle resting across his shoulder.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT THERE?!"
Before I could answer, his face drained of color. His eyes weren’t on me anymore. They were fixed somewhere behind me.
"RUN!"
He sprinted toward me. The forest erupted. Branches snapped. Trees bent violently as something enormous forced its way through them.
I didn’t turn around.
The hunter grabbed my arm and shoved me forward. "Move!"
The gate burst into motion. Villagers rushed to either side, throwing their weight against the thick wooden doors. Others dragged a heavy timber beam into place.
The instant I crossed the threshold, a loud impact rattled the walls, dust drifting from the beams overhead. Children cried out. Another crash followed almost immediately.
The hunter kept one hand against the gate, breathing heavily.
"...Don’t." His voice barely rose above a whisper. "Whatever you do. Don’t open those gates after sunset."
Silence reigned. They just waited patiently. Then the church bell sounded once, and the hunter closed his eyes.
An overwhelming sense of dread settled over me. My thoughts spiraled on their own, imagining the gate giving way and whatever waited beyond it walking through. I couldn’t stop it. The fear wasn’t irrational, it felt instinctive, like every part of me already knew I wasn’t meant to face whatever was outside.
"Guess you owe me one," the hunter said with a tired grin. "Another few seconds and that abomination would’ve gotten to you first."
I swallowed and said, "Thank you."
My thoughts were a mess. Fear, confusion, disbelief. I latched onto the first question I could. "Just what’s happening here?"
The hunter let out a weary sigh, eyes never leaving the gate. "Hell."
A few uneasy laughs broke the silence before quickly fading.
He shifted the rifle on his shoulder. "Each night, those creatures emerge from the forest." His expression darkened. "That’s about all we know. We don’t know where they came from or why they showed up." He glanced toward the walls. "We’ve tried leaving." A humorless chuckle escaped him. He nodded toward the gate. "There’s only more of them."
I’d consider myself lucky, then. I wandered through that forest without seeing a single one until I got close.
"...You’re saying an entire village is trapped due to whatever’s happening outside? Has anyone managed to get through? Or is everyone who’s tried just... gone?"
"Everyone who tried either got eaten or never returned," the hunter said, his voice tinged with sadness.
"I see. My condolences," I said, lowering my head in contemplation.
A rugged man with a shaved head and rough stubble shouted from somewhere nearby. "WILLARD, ARE YOU SERIOUSLY GOING TO LET THIS KID STAY?"
Another man beside him clenched his fists, his expression tense. "We’re already short on rations. Adding one more person means we’ll run out even faster. Before long, we’ll all be dead."
The moment the man mentioned rations, I understood. I couldn’t even blame him. A stranger suddenly appearing and asking to be taken in wasn’t exactly an easy decision when everyone was already struggling to survive. To them, I wasn’t someone they knew. I was an unknown factor they had to account for. How much food would I consume? How long could their supplies last? What would happen if another person needed help tomorrow? Questions like that mattered more than sympathy when there wasn’t enough to go around.
I watched the exchange quietly. The man wasn’t heartless. He was scared. Anyone would be after living through something like this. Fear didn’t always make people cruel. Sometimes it just made them think about the things they wished they didn’t have to consider. His voice carried genuine fear, though he tried to hide it behind a hardened exterior.
"SHUT UP!" Willard snapped back, disappointment clear in his tone. "Would you rather I leave a kid outside the gate to fend for himself? To die when I could’ve saved him? Is that something you could live with?"
The men fell silent.
"That’s not what we mean," the rugged man muttered. "If we take him in, we’ll burn through our supplies faster. Eventually, we’ll be forced to make choices we don’t want to make."
"Yeah... that’s what we’re saying."
A moment passed before the rugged man sighed, lowering his gaze. "Sorry, Willard. I panicked. With everything happening..."
"It’s fine." Willard shook his head. "But you all need to get your heads straight." His eyes moved toward the sealed gate, beyond which the horrors of the outside world waited. "Even if those things are roaming out there, we’re still human. If it comes to that, I’ll give him part of my rations."
I approached Willard and lowered my head slightly. "Sorry for the trouble. I’ll do my best to help however I can."
Willard looked at me for a moment before letting out a tired sigh. "I’ll take your word for it. Just ignore those old bastards. They’ve been stuck in this place for too long and started losing their minds." His tone was sharp, but there was no real hostility behind it.
I couldn’t help but laugh internally. Coming from him, that was almost amusing. He wasn’t exactly young himself. If anything, he looked just as old as the people he was calling senile.
"It’s fine. I understand where they’re coming from. I’m a stranger who suddenly appeared and expects to be taken in. I’d probably have the same concerns if I were in their position. Besides, I’m not even part of this village. I can’t blame them for being cautious."
Willard studied me for a moment, as if deciding something, then looked past me toward the houses deeper inside the village. "Since you’re willing to help, I’ve got something you can do."
I raised an eyebrow. "Something?"
He nodded. "One of the women here is pregnant. She’s been having a rough time lately, and with everything going on, we don’t have enough hands to keep an eye on everyone." His gaze returned to me. "Could you check on her for a while? Make sure she has what she needs. If anything seems wrong, find me."
I glanced toward the direction he was looking. A strange request. I had just arrived, knew nothing about this place, and the first thing they trusted me with was looking after someone vulnerable. Either Willard was far too trusting, or he was the kind of person who had no choice but to rely on strangers when things became this desperate.
"I can do that," I said.
Willard gave a small nod. "Good. Her name’s Eliza. House near the eastern wall. You’ll recognize it." He paused. "And don’t worry about what the others said. They’re scared, but they’re not bad people."
"I understand."
The village was bigger than I’d thought. I made my way east, taking my time instead of rushing. People were busy wherever I looked. A pair of men patched a damaged roof while another hauled buckets of water across the street. Someone was splitting firewood beside a stack already taller than him. Near the wall, a few hunters sat in silence, sharpening blades and checking their rifles.
No one was idle. They worked because the work had to be done.
I kept walking, quietly looking around. The place wasn’t abandoned, nor was it bustling. It simply carried on, as though everyone had already accepted that this was their life now.
Soon enough, I’d reached the woman’s house. It was a modest wooden home near the eastern wall, its roof patched together with mismatched planks. A small pile of chopped firewood rested beside the porch.
I knocked and waited. The floorboards creaked from inside, a few slow footsteps approaching the door before stopping just behind it. The latch clicked, and the door opened just enough for a young woman to peek through.
She looked to be in her twenties. Her face was pale, with tired eyes and loose brown hair falling over her shoulders. One hand rested protectively against her stomach. She studied me for a moment, clearly confused.
"...Can I help you?" she asked quietly.
"Eliza, right?" I asked.
Her brows furrowed. "...Yeah. And who are you?" Her eyes swept over me. "I don’t recognize you. You’re not from the village."
There was more caution than hostility in her voice.
"I’m not," I admitted. "Willard found me outside the gates this morning."
Her expression stiffened. "Outside...?"
I nodded. "He asked me to check in on you. Said you weren’t having an easy time with the pregnancy."
She didn’t answer immediately, studying my face, weighing my words. Then she let out a quiet sigh and opened the door a little wider.
"I see... Willard’s always been thoughtful." Eliza smiled faintly, though the exhaustion on her face made it hard for the expression to last. She stepped aside. "Come in."
I stepped inside. The house was small. A single table stood near the center of the room, a wood stove crackled quietly in the corner, and a few shelves held neatly stacked jars that looked emptier than they should have been.
Eliza eased herself into a chair, one hand resting on her stomach before letting out a slow breath. "Sorry. I would’ve cleaned up if I’d known someone was coming."
I shook my head. "It looks fine."
She gave a tired smile. "Willard sent you to help, didn’t he?" A beat of silence passed before she glanced toward two empty buckets leaning against the wall. "...If you really don’t mind, could you fetch some water from the well?"
Bold. I’d barely stepped through the door, and she was already putting me to work. Then again, I wasn’t really in a position to complain since I was about to eat their food, stay behind their walls, and hadn’t contributed anything yet.
Fair enough.
"I can do that," I replied.
A look of relief crossed Eliza’s face. "Thank you," she said with a faint smile.