The world beyond the gate was nothing like Earth.
Dense trees towered like ancient titans, their bark thick with moss and time. The air was heavy with dampness, filled with the scent of wild herbs, decay, and something faintly metallic—like blood long dried into stone.
Adam Carter trudged forward, each step deliberate, spear in hand, eyes scanning every corner of the forest ahead.
His body ached. Hunger gnawed at his insides like a slow fire, and fatigue made his limbs feel twice as heavy. But he pushed on, guided by instinct—and by something more.
His Insight ability shimmered faintly at the edge of his vision. Thin trails of mana, invisible to most, hung in the air like threads of color. They bent around the trees, swirled near the earth, and sometimes, pooled ominously in distant places.
He followed the neutral trails—ones with the least distortion. Disturbed mana often meant danger.
And Adam had seen enough danger to last a lifetime.
---
Two days ago, he had entered the gate as part of an expedition. A scholar among warriors. A historian with a rare talent.
And now, he was alone.
Everyone else—dead. Sacrificed on a forgotten altar in a ruined city that had crumbled beneath time and secrecy.
Lucian Alden had orchestrated it. Garrett had tried to stop it. And Adam had barely escaped with his life—and with the mysterious golden treasure that now pulsed faintly within his satchel, as if it were alive.
He hadn't dared unwrap it. The mere memory of its strange, formless pressure was enough to unsettle him. His Insight, which normally revealed everything, could glean nothing from it.
It was as if the treasure didn't exist within the laws of this world.
---
The sun—if it could be called that—filtered weakly through the thick canopy, casting everything in perpetual twilight. Adam came to a shallow stream and paused. Kneeling, he drank from the water and rinsed his face. The cool liquid was a balm to his dry throat and clouded mind.
He sat back and surveyed the surrounding area.
High ferns. Stone outcroppings. A cluster of trees that had fused together at the root.
It was as safe a place as any.
Using a large, curved branch and a stone edge, Adam fashioned a spear. Crude, but better than nothing. His Insight flickered, revealing faint trails in the underbrush—small creatures, likely prey, passed through here recently.
He set up a simple snare trap, using vine and tension from a bent sapling. Then he climbed one of the thicker trees and waited, eyes never still.
Minutes stretched into hours.
Eventually, a rabbit-like creature emerged from the brush—long ears, mottled fur, and cautious steps. Adam held his breath.
Snap.
The trap triggered. The creature panicked, flailing in place.
Adam dropped silently and moved quickly. One swift motion—his spear ended it.
---
He carried the carcass back to a cave he'd discovered earlier, nestled between a split in a cliff wall and hidden by thick ivy. It wasn't deep, but it offered shelter and a good vantage point.
Inside, he started a fire using flint, dried bark, and the tiny remnants of a mana crystal crushed in his pocket. He roasted the meat over the fire, the scent making his stomach growl in anticipation.
The golden treasure, wrapped in cloth, sat untouched in the corner of the cave. It didn't glow. It didn't make a sound. Yet Adam felt its presence like a second heartbeat.
He tried again to use Insight on it, just once more.
Nothing.
Not even a ripple.
---
He turned away, unsettled. The silence of the treasure wasn't peaceful—it was deafening. A void where knowledge should exist.
Why had Lucian wanted it?
Why sacrifice so many to claim it?
And why had the guardian beast in the secret passage spared Adam when it sensed the treasure?
There were no answers, only questions.
Adam chewed on the roasted meat in silence, every bite bringing a touch more clarity. His hands stopped shaking. His breath grew steady. Even in the midst of chaos, food and fire grounded him.
---
Night fell.
Strange calls echoed in the distance—howls, clicks, guttural roars. The beasts of this world were nothing like Earth's. Some radiated elemental energy, others shimmered with faint bioluminescence. A few didn't emit mana at all—those were the most dangerous. The ones even his Insight couldn't detect.
Adam curled up near the fire with his spear beside him and dozed fitfully.
---
He awoke before dawn, startled by a distant crash. Something large was moving through the forest far from his cave, shaking the trees in its wake. He didn't wait to find out what.
He packed what little he had—his makeshift spear, the remaining meat, the water bottle, and the treasure. He buried the ashes of the fire and covered the cave entrance with branches before setting off again.
This time, he moved uphill, toward a ridge he'd spotted from a tree the day before. Higher ground meant better visibility—and possibly a sign of civilization. Or safety. Or both.
He walked for hours.
Avoided mana disturbances.
Evaded two predators by ducking into a thicket.
And all the while, the treasure pulsed faintly.
---
At midday, he reached the ridge.
And his breath caught.
Before him lay a valley—lush, expansive, and teeming with life. In the distance, he saw what might have once been a village—crumbling stone walls, broken spires, and shattered rooftops swallowed by vines and roots.
But more importantly, he saw a plume of smoke.
Thin. Controlled.
Someone's alive out there.
Hope ignited in his chest.
He hadn't realized just how heavy the loneliness had been until now. Even the idea of someone else—a traveler, a survivor, anyone—brought a rush of relief.
He didn't head straight for the smoke.
Instead, he circled the valley's edge, moving through the treeline to stay hidden. Trust had become a fragile thing. After Lucian's betrayal, Adam wasn't ready to walk into the open just yet.
---
As he walked, his thoughts wandered to Mia.
He didn't know how much time had passed since he last saw her—months, maybe a year. She was always the bright one, the loud one, full of ambition and mischief. He hoped she and their mother were safe, unaware of the ruin, the expedition, the aftermath.
He hadn't even had a chance to send a message back.
He didn't know that, far away, his name had been dragged through the mud. That Lucian had falsified reports, accused him of sacrificing the expedition team, of fleeing with stolen treasure.
He didn't know a bounty had been placed on his head.
That people were already hunting him.
---
All he knew was this: he was alive.
He had a rare ability, a dangerous treasure, and a path that no one had walked before.
He had questions the world couldn't answer.
And a truth he had to find—no matter where it led.