The sun, a molten coin in the azure sky, cast long, dancing shadows across the dusty track as Sparrow Night kept a steady hand on the wheel of their behemoth of a 4WD. Its engine, a symphony of raw power, purred contentedly as they trailed the military-styled truck, its destination: the dense, whispering embrace of Lushwood Forest.
Inside the truck, oblivious to the watchful eyes behind them, were Canary's friend, Zeen, and the rest of her Nature Preservation Club, embarking on their club's regular camping trip.
Sparrow, a figure sculpted from pure tough muscle and hardened by recent supernatural experiences, surveyed the road ahead with his sole, piercing green eye. The scar on his left cheek and black eyepatch covering his artificial left eye gave him an intimidating aura that could not be dissipated by his calm smile.
Beside him, Canary, a whirlwind of nervous energy barely contained within her diminutive frame, chewed incessantly on her thumbnail. Unlike her usual youthful cheerfulness, a profound weariness resided in her eyes, a consequence of her new unsettling passive skill, [Awakened Premonition] – the ability to feel future disaster.
Today, that future was screaming even louder at her, a cacophony of dread centered around Zeen, one of her best friends.
"Faster, Birdbro," she pleaded, her voice laced with anxiety. "We don't want to lose them."
Sparrow grunted in response, not following her instruction at all. "Relax, Tweety. We know their destination. We won't lose them. Besides," he added with a playful smirk, "you're the one who previously insisted we maintain a 'safe distance'."
Canary shot him a glare, her small features tightening. "This isn't a joke, Birdbro. The bad feeling is getting stronger. Something bad is really going to happen to Zeen."
"I know, I know," Sparrow conceded, his tone softening. He knew better than to dismiss Canary's premonitions. "But the Wild Hunters had taken care of the Evil Hermit, right? That was the only abnormal threat recently detected in the Lushwood Forest. What else could it be?"
The Evil Hermit. Just the name conjured images of grotesque horror in Sparrow's mind. The surreal creature had been active and terrorized the outskirts of Lushwood for about two months.
Its reign of fear should have ended abruptly the day before though, courtesy to a team of mystery agents known as the Wild Hunters.
"Or, maybe the Fogman's back," Sparrow suggested, a mischievous glint in his eye. He knew it was a long shot, a ridiculous notion to throw into the mix, but he couldn't resist teasing his sister.
The Fogman was a local legend of the towns neighboring Lushwood Forest, a boogeyman whispered around campfires, a creature born of the forest's deepest fears. It truly existed once, a powerful surreal creature. But not anymore.
Canary scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Don't be absurd, Birdbro. The Fogman is gone. You're just saying that because you want to find a girlfriend, like Dad finding Mom."
Sparrow chuckled, his chest rumbling with amusement. "And what's wrong with that? Mom and Dad met during the Fogman hunt, fell in love amidst the mist and terror. Sounds romantic, doesn't it?"
The memory of their parents, lost to the very dangers they hunted, dead to make sure their children alive, cast a momentary shadow over the siblings.
"Come on Birdbro," Canary rolled her eyes. "Who will you be romantic too? Zeen? Don't even try. I don't want to call her Big Sister."
"That's gross! She's just like you, a kid. I'm not a pedophile, you know?"
"Good! Wait... I'm not a kid anymore, Birdbro. Take that back."
"No way! You're forever a kid for me."
They fell silent for a while, the hum of the engine filling the void as they continued their pursuit. The landscape blurred past, a tapestry of green and brown, the air thick with the scent of pine and damp earth.
"So, what do you think could be the threat? Maybe it's a rogue bear," Sparrow offered, breaking the silence. "Or a swarm of killer bees. Or… I don't know, a man eating tree."
"Birdbro, stop it," Canary snapped, her voice strained. "You're not helping."
"Okay, okay," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Just trying to lighten the mood. But seriously, what else could it be?"
Then, Canary, in a moment of exasperated flippancy, blurted out, "Maybe the Evil Hermit had a twin!"
Sparrow fell silent. The laughter died in his throat, replaced by a chilling premonition of his own. The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning.
"Wait a minute," he said slowly, his brow furrowing in concentration. "That's… that's actually not as crazy as it sounds."
He began to dissect everything they knew about the Evil Hermit. First fact, the code names of surreal creatures were always designated by the oracle types. The names might be weird but were never random. Autumn told them that during the Suicide Ghost case, and they had cross-checked it afterward.
Then, they knew that the background information of a fallen surreal creature was researched by the sage types with high accuracy. And in the previous library meeting, according to their aunt, Autumn Elheart, the Evil Hermit could be described as a malevolent entity possessing an old father, a man wandering the woods in search of his missing wife and estranged son.
They had felt something was not right before. They just didn't know what had been wrong. But now, Sparrow had realized it.
"Think about it, Canary," Sparrow continued, his voice gaining momentum. "The oracle named him the Evil Hermit. Why Hermit? A wandering old man wouldn't be called a hermit, would he?"
"Well, no. I wouldn't call him that." Canary automatically answered. "It was easier to call him Wanderer... What are you trying to say, Birdbro?"
"Come on, Tweety!" Sparrow exclaimed. "A hermit is someone who lives in solitude, someone who's withdrawn from society. The son, the estranged, self-exiled son, that would fit the description of a hermit far better."
Canary's eyes widened in understanding. "The Wild Hunters killed the wrong target?"
Sparrow shook his head. "No, no, no. The one killed by the Wild Hunters was also a surreal creature. MIST Union won't approve the mission accomplishment if there is no solid evidence."
"What do you mean, Birdbro?"
Sparrow narrowed his single eye and put a serious expression. "What if the codename: Evil Hermit did not refer to a single surreal creature? Ever heard the term: Hermit family?"
Canary gasped. "The Yolk Family?"
Sparrow nodded. The Yolk Family was one of the famous cases in Mearth of a self-isolating family. In their case, they lived isolated in a small island in the western coast of the Republic of Laguna. This case became very popular because it was made into box office movie just a few years prior.
But if the assumption was true... a chilling realization dawned on them. If the Evil Hermit was the son, not the father; or if the Evil Hermit referred to the whole family, it was no wonder that Canary's premonition did not dissipate after the death of the Evil Hermit Father.
The atmosphere suddenly seemed to press in on them. The verdant beauty image of their destination instantly transformed into a menacing threat. They had been so focused on the obvious that they had overlooked the subtle clues, the unsettling inconsistencies in the narrative.
As they tried to digest and adapt to their sudden understanding, the landscape outside changed. The tamed view of managed rural settlement had become much wilder and greener, with only the asphalt road giving the sign of civilization. They were very close to Lushwood Forest.
"We have to warn Zeen," Canary said, her voice trembling. "If there's another Evil Hermit, she and her friends are vulnerable, out in the open. Just tell them there was a wild beast... No, no, no! There were some escaped convicts, murderers, roaming in their destination."
Sparrow gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles white. He pressed down on the accelerator, the engine roaring in response, a primal cry of defiance against the darkness that threatened to engulf them.
"Hold on tight, Canary," he said, his voice steely with determination. "We're not going to let anything happen to Zeen. We're going to stop this, whatever it takes."
Their 4WD surged forward, devouring the distance between them and the unsuspecting Nature Preservation Club.
But then...
The engine sputtered, coughed, and died, leaving Sparrow and Canary enveloped in an unsettling silence broken only by the whisper of the unnatural fog swirling around their heavily modified off-road 4WD.
Canary slammed her fist on the dashboard, her usually cheerful face etched with worry. "This isn't happening! Why at this time?"
"Something is wrong." Sparrow, immediately noticing that what happened was not natural, commented dryly.
Canary also quickly realized that the view outside the car was not what it should be. "What the hell is this? Why now?"
Sparrow, his face an impassive mask, simply observed the thick white fog pressing against the windshield. His right green eye, sharp and analytical, scanned their surroundings.
"Calm down, Tweety," he said, his voice a low rumble that always seemed to soothe her frantic energy. "Panicking won't get us out of this."
Canary took a deep breath, trying to regulate her emotions. She focused on her new skill, [Awakened Premonition], a talent that should have guided her through any impending danger.
But this time, it was silent. No warning bells, no flashes of terrible feeling like what she felt for Zeen's fate. That very silence was terrifying.
"My premonition..." she started, her voice laced with desperation. "It didn't warn me about this. It told me when Zeen is in danger, but nothing about us..."
Sparrow placed a large, calloused hand on her shoulder, his grip firm but reassuring. "That's because this isn't a true danger, Canary. It's just an annoyance."
He had activated his [Greater Appraisal] skill to observe the misty world outside his car. The {Eye of Wisdom} talent within his deep green eye unlocking a torrent of information. It flickered with an unnatural light as he sifted through the data in his mind.
"It's the Fogman's Grudge - Misty Labyrinth," he announced in flat tone. "Created by a flawed artifact: a bunny-doll keychain. It's contaminated with the last vestiges of the Fogman's aura and grudge."
Canary blinked, her mind struggling to catch up. "Fogman? You mean... like, the one Mom and Dad killed?"
Sparrow nodded. "The same. Apparently, after they defeated him, a piece of his essence clung to this… fallen keychain... Mom's old keychain. It's been dormant, hidden behind some brambles in the forest. But our presence, our connection to Mom, triggered it."
"So, we're trapped in a supernatural labyrinth because of a keychain?" Canary exclaimed, her frustration bubbling to the surface again.
"Essentially, yes," Sparrow replied calmly. "The labyrinth itself isn't dangerous. My [Greater Appraisal] confirms that. It's just… disorienting. Time-consuming."
He paused, his gaze hardening. "Time we don't have."
They both knew what was at stake. Zeen and her Nature Preservation Club were headed deep into Lushwood Forest, unaware of the true dangers lurking there. They needed to warn them, to get them out before it was too late.
"We find the keychain," Sparrow said. "Purify it, and the labyrinth will dissipate."
"Purify?"
"Holy water," Sparrow explained briefly.
Canary groaned. "Li'l Aunt is right. Holy water seems to be more important than other potions in our line of work. We haven't used any other medicines so far, but holy water? One for the Suicide Ghost case, and now this?"
Sparrow took the car key and grabbed his heavy backpack, filled with essential supplies specially prepared for camping and and facing surreal opponents.
"The {Eye of Wisdom} can guide us," he explained as he opened the door. "It can sense the residual energy of the artifact. We need to head… that way." He pointed towards a barely discernible path leading into the fog.
"But the car…" Canary protested, gesturing at the unresponsive vehicle.
"The machine won't work here," Sparrow stated matter-of-factly. "We walk."
Canary grunted as she followed him, grabbing her own lighter pack, and unzipping her jacket... making sure that she could quickly draw her pair of semi-automatic handguns.
The siblings stepped out into the eerie silence of the misty labyrinth. The fog was thick, clinging to them like a damp shroud. Visibility was reduced to a few feet, and the air was heavy with a strange, almost floral scent that made Canary's head swim. The trees around them were twisted and gnarled, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers.
"Stay close, Tweety," Sparrow instructed, his voice barely above a whisper. "And stay focused. It won't be good if we get separated in a labyrinth like this."
They started walking, Sparrow leading the way, his every step deliberate and measured. He moved with a quiet grace that belied his muscular build, his martial arts training evident in his every movement. Canary followed close behind, her senses on high alert, her hands resting near the grips of her handguns.
Hours passed. The labyrinth seemed to shift and change around them, the path twisting and turning in an illogical manner. They circled around the same landmarks multiple times, each time the disorientation growing stronger. Canary's anxiety mounted with every step.
"Are you sure this is the right way, Birdbro?" she asked, her voice laced with doubt.
Sparrow stopped, his green eye piercing through the fog. "My {Eye of Wisdom} hasn't wavered. We're getting closer. But the artifact is resisting us. The grudge is fighting back."
Suddenly, the fog around them began to thicken, swirling and churning like a living entity. The trees creaked and groaned, and a low, guttural sound echoed through the labyrinth.
"Something's coming," Canary whispered, her hand tightening on the grip of her weapons.
Six spectral figures materialized from the fog, their eyes glowing with malevolent energy. They were distorted, grotesque versions of human forms, their bodies half-formed and translucent.
"Fog Wraiths," Sparrow said, his voice grim. "Manifestations of the Fogman's grudge. The weaker version."
He dropped his backpack and took a fighting stance, his fists clenched. "Stay behind me, Canary. These things are weak, but they can drain your energy."
"Like hell I'm staying behind," Canary retorted, drawing her twin handguns. Streams of arcane energy crackled around them. She had decided to use her new [Arcane Energy Projectiles] skill rather than normal bullets. "I've got your back, Birdbro."
The Fog Wraiths lunged, their spectral claws reaching for them. Sparrow moved with lightning speed, his fists a blur of motion. He struck with precision and power, the force of his blows shattering the ethereal forms of the Wraiths.
Canary opened fire, her handguns spitting arcane energy bullets that burned through the fog and struck the Wraiths with devastating accuracy.
They fought back-to-back, a whirlwind of motion and energy, until the Fog Wraiths dissipated back into the mist, their malevolent presence fading away.
Sparrow and Canary stood panting. The Fog Wraiths were not really a threat for them, but they were annoying to face... and exhausting.
"We're close," Sparrow said, his voice strained but determined. "I can feel it."
They continued their journey, pushing through the fog, their resolve strengthened by the encounter. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they reached a small clearing.
In the center of the clearing, hidden beneath a tangle of thorny vines, lay a small, unassuming doll keychain. It was a cute, pastel-colored bunny doll, but it radiated an aura of malevolent energy.
Canary shuddered. "That thing is creepy."
Sparrow approached the keychain cautiously. He reached out and grasped it, his hand clenching tightly. The artifact pulsed with dark energy, a subtle tremor vibrating through his fingertips.
"Tweety! Holy Water," he said, his voice low but firm.
Canary nodded, her face grim. She reached into her pack and pulled out a small vial of Holy Water.
"Here. Be careful, Birdbro." She said, handing him the vial.
Sparrow took the vial, his gaze unwavering. He uncorked it with a single hand, the scent of sanctity and cleansing filling the air. With deliberate care, he tilted the vial and poured a steady stream of Holy Water directly onto the bunny-doll keychain.
The effect was immediate and far more dramatic than they anticipated.
The keychain hissed violently, a plume of black smoke erupting from its surface as the Holy Water made contact. A shockwave of pure energy rippled outwards, shaking the very air around them. The fog in the labyrinth swirled into a frenzy, no longer a creeping mist but a raging vortex.
The trees of the twisted labyrinth groaned and buckled. Branches snapped, and the ground beneath their feet trembled. The air crackled with displaced energy, ozone stinging their nostrils. The once oppressive silence of the labyrinth was shattered by a cacophony of groaning wood and rushing wind.
Then, as quickly as it began, it stopped. The black smoke dispersed, leaving behind a keychain that looked… normal. Sparrow released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
The fog around them dissolved, not gradually, but in a single, sweeping motion. The twisted trees of the labyrinth vanished, replaced by the familiar, calming green of Lushwood Forest. The oppressive, disorienting energy of the labyrinth was gone, washed away by the potent purification.
They stood in the clearing, breathing heavily, the quiet rustle of leaves in the wind a welcome sound after the chaos.
They had escaped.
But there was no time to celebrate. Zeen was still in danger. They had to hurry.