⚠️WARNING!⚠️
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A/N: Mentions of drug use, Alcoholism, Smoking, Bad Influence for young audiences, Triggers, Self Hate/SA, Kidnapping, Assault, Might be cringe??

You have been warned.

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Y/N groggily blinks their eyes open, their vision blurred and disoriented. The world around them seems... wrong. They instinctively try to focus, but it's as if the very fabric of their reality is slipping away from them, like a dream that refuses to solidify.

...Nothingness.

...Just...

...Darkness...

stretching endlessly in all directions, an oppressive, suffocating void.

Y/N feels a rising sense of dread—what happened? Where am I?

What the hell...

"Hello?" Y/N's voice cracks the silence, but even as they speak, the words feel hollow in the vast emptiness. They don't call out to anyone in particular, but simply wait—wait for something, anything, to respond.

There's no answer.

Only silence. Deafening, unnatural silence.

The weight of the silence presses on them, making their chest tighten with unease. Y/N's pulse quickens, a nervous shiver running through their body. What was happening?

Then, as if from nowhere, a voice—low, insistent—breaks through the stillness.

"Y/N..."

It's so faint, Y/N can hardly make it out. But it feels as though it resonates in their very bones.

"...Wake up..."

The voice isn't just calling. It's... demanding.

"...Wake up..."

"...ŴĄĶË ŮP..."

The words twist and distort, a chilling command that lingers in the air, heavy and almost alien.

Y/N's eyes snap open in panic, the sudden clarity of their vision taking them by surprise. But the moment is far from peaceful.

They cough violently, a horrible, thick black substance surging from their throat, splattering violently onto the dark grass beneath them. The texture is thick, viscous, a tar-like substance that reeks of copper and ash. It burns their throat as it slides down their chest, and the sensation of it is far too familiar.

Y/N's head spins, their heart racing. They turn their head, half-expecting to see Bensan lying beside them, the warmth of a familiar presence to ground them. But when their eyes focus, they are met not with Bensan, but with something—or rather, someone—else.

The child.

The small, familiar face of the child from before. They are crouched beside Y/N, their large, gleaming yellow eyes staring up with an expression that is both expectant and uncertain. Its tiny hands clutch Y/N's wrist tightly, as if afraid they might slip away.

Then, as if the weight of their emotions crashes down all at once, the child suddenly bursts forward, wrapping their arms tightly around Y/N's neck, burying their face against their chest in fear. The grip is desperate, frantic—as if holding on for dear life, afraid of losing Y/N... again.

Y/N's heart swells at the sight of the child, a deep sense of affection flooding through them. They immediately return the embrace, their arms wrapping around the small form instinctively, offering the comfort the child needs.

The child purrs softly in response, a deep, soothing sound that reverberates through Y/N's chest. It's calming, grounding. For a moment, everything else seems to disappear. Just the warmth of the child's small body against them, the reassuring feeling of not being alone.

"Are you okay?" Y/N asks softly, pulling back just enough to look into the child's wide, expressive eyes.

The child looks up at Y/N for a long moment, the silence between them heavy with meaning. Then, with a slow, deliberate nod, they offer a small, quiet answer.

Y/N sighs in relief, the knot in their chest loosening, their mind temporarily at ease. They close their eyes for a brief moment, savoring the peace... until something feels wrong.

Y/N opens their eyes again, and as they glance down, a sharp jolt of panic courses through them. Their hands... they weren't hands anymore.

Instead, what they see are massive, clawed appendages, black as night, ending in sharp talons that dig into the ground as they instinctively flex their fingers. The fur isn't just on their hands—it's spreading up their arms, dark brown fur that covers most of their body. It's coarse, almost primal. Their body feels different—bulkier, more powerful. They feel stronger, yet... weaker at the same time. There's a strange sense of imbalance, as if something fundamental inside them is off.

What did he even do?

Y/N's voice is barely a whisper, the question hanging in the air. They look to the child for some kind of answer, some kind of reassurance—but the child merely tilts their head curiously, as if they don't quite understand either. The child reaches up, resting their small paw-like hands against Y/N's arm, nuzzling their side as if to offer comfort, as if to say, I'm here. It's okay.

The gesture is so innocent, so pure, it nearly breaks Y/N's resolve. It's a moment of true heartwarming comfort, even in the midst of the strange transformation they're undergoing.

"What now?" Y/N murmurs to themselves, more to the empty forest than to anyone in particular.

As if answering, their surroundings come into sharper focus. Gone are the sterile, featureless void and darkness. Instead, they now find themselves surrounded by towering trees—enormous, ancient things, their trunks reaching upward to over seventy feet, their branches interlocking to form a canopy far above. The air is thick with the scent of moss, damp earth, and the sweet, crisp aroma of wildflowers. The forest is alive, serene in its appearance, yet there's something off about it—something in the stillness that doesn't feel quite right.

Y/N struggles to stand, their legs trembling beneath them. For a moment, they nearly collapse again, but they steady themselves, focusing on keeping their balance. They scoop the child into their arms, holding them close as they look around, trying to make sense of where they are.

The child buries their face against Y/N's chest, their tiny paws clinging to Y/N's shirt. It's as if they know something Y/N doesn't, a sense of danger that hasn't yet fully revealed itself.

A shrill scream echoes in the distance, followed by a frantic, muffled exchange of voices. Then, abruptly, everything goes quiet again. Too quiet.

Y/N's breath catches in their throat as realization dawns. They aren't just anywhere. They're in the Forest of Redemption—a cursed place. A place where those who have committed unforgivable sins are drawn, forced to confront their past and pay the price for their wrongdoings. Y/N had heard the rumors, the stories told in hushed tones by those who dared to speak of it.

This... this is no place for a child.

This is no place for Y/N, either.

Y/N scans the dark forest, feeling the weight of its ancient, unforgiving presence closing in. They spot a faint, winding pathway through the trees, about thirty-seven meters away. It's a distant hope—a way out, maybe, but it could also lead to more danger.

With the child still nestled against their chest, Y/N takes a deep breath, determination settling into their bones. They have to get out. They have to keep the child safe. There's no other choice.

They start forward, the ground beneath them soft and uneven, but they push on, every step taking them deeper into the unknown, hoping for a way out... hoping that the forest won't claim them as its next lost soul.