The fireplace is trampled to prevent another wildfire, and our belongings are disappearing into thin air, sucked into the inventories.


    Despite having only sixteen slots for items, Harald is even taking the wooden logs we used as chairs. I hide my "throne" and consolidate my inventory, storing all the food inside the plastic container Harald gave me.


    I watch him try to shovel some burning charcoal into a metal can, unsuccessfully attempting to store it in his inventory.


    “I tried before with a torch. It went out immediately. I think there’s a vacuum inside the inventory, which is why no food ever spoils,” I explain, recalling my past experiences.


    “And that’s why fire is extinguished right away.”


    “Anyway, we have a lighter, but you never know,” he adds.


    Once the packing is finished, the old man is the first to move, leading the party toward his task—lifting the car—and ours: exploring the cave.


    Mike is standing too close to the edge of the crater, gazing into the distance and enjoying the wind.


    “Michael! Noo!” The girl screams, startling Harald, who drops a wooden log on his boot. Thankfully, his boots must have steel tips because he doesn’t react.


    The log rolls away, and Harald watches as the girl dashes toward Mike, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him back.


    In an instant, he loses his balance, and all I see is him landing on his backside.


    “Ouch! What are you doing?” He touches his rear, wincing from the impact.


    “Fuck, fuck, not again…” His voice fades as he lies flat on his back. Apparently, she grabbed him by the bandana too, which fell off his head, revealing his eye.


    “I’m sorry!” she apologizes, quickly rewrapping the cloth over his eye. “You were about to fall!”


    “No, I wasn’t!” he responds angrily.


    “I saw transparent strands going from your feet down the side of the sinkhole,” she explains with a sigh.


    No one comments on this, but I can’t hide my surprise. Is this her new ability, developing with her willpower? Can she foretell the near future? Maybe she sees invisible strands, like the path falling leaves would take. I think about it for a moment. Is she able to witness gravity a second before it happens?


    If this evolves into a real skill, she’ll be an extraordinary backup. Then there’s Pocco. She can call him for a minute, and he’s capable of scouting large areas. And now she can see where objects will fall? I’m amazed but also frustrated with myself for finding utility in her abilities.


    Wait—didn’t I dream about Pocco again last night? He spoke to me, and I called him with a snap. It’s strange how I have these dreams only after eating fatty meat before bed, followed by testing my Focus skill.


    Should I snap my fingers now to see if it works? I hesitate.


    I’m not totally sure it wasn’t just a dream. I’ll do it later, when I’m fully awake, aware, and alone. Then I’ll snap my fingers and see.


    <hr>


    We’re walking in pairs again—Harald and I in front, with the couple behind us. I glance back at them occasionally. The girl keeps adjusting Mike’s headscarf every few minutes as it slips off, revealing his disfigured eye. She notices me looking and raises an eyebrow at me.


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    Damn, that must’ve been awkward. I won’t turn around again for a while.


    I focus on the path ahead and relish the most pleasant feeling—putting distance between myself and that crater. I still can’t believe I managed to fall asleep so close to it. I’ve always had a fear of heights and deep dark holes. I even hated sewer entrances and missing manhole covers, but now that fear has fully kicked in.


    <hr>


    Finally, the sun is fully up, revealing a beautiful sunny day. I’m not usually a fan of this kind of weather; I prefer heavy rain or even a storm. But under current conditions, this is the best we could hope for.


    The crater is surrounded by a vast, deep forest. The terrain near the tower transitions from colorful patches of mushrooms and tiny flowers to a mossy, moist area near the open space around the crater.


    On the far side of the crater, however, the forest looks ominously similar to the creepy one full of hangmen. It’s dark, and if it were night, I’m sure even I would refuse to step inside.


    “Harald, how long is this stretch ahead of us? Is this where the wolves are? And the car?” I ask.


    “Yes, this is where I spent about two weeks in the trees,” he replies, his expression distant. I assume he’s having flashbacks, judging by his sudden sadness.


    “Mr. Nilsson, you mentioned six-legged wolves before. Is that for real?” Astrid calls out from behind, raising her voice.


    How the heck did she hear us? I wonder if this has something to do with her new ability or if she just has good hearing—or clean ears.


    “To be honest, I’m not sure anymore. Those weeks were brutal, and I can’t say for sure. Some of them must’ve had six legs… or maybe not? Sorry, girl.” He offers the best answer he can, his mind clearly wandering in the past.


    “If their carcasses are still there, I’ll investigate. You can’t miss it,” he adds. “It’s a large pile.”


    As we walk deeper into the forest, it gets darker despite the bright sun. The trees’ crowns are tall and dense, letting only a few rays through.


    “I’m going to sleep alone tonight,” the red-haired girl says suddenly.


    *Snap*


    Fluffy white Pocco appears. She used to summon him before bed for comfort, but now she’s calling him for a different purpose. I’m glad she’s using him for more than just cuddling.


    Oh boy, I hope he won’t talk to me now. Or maybe this will prove my mind is playing tricks on me.


    She holds Pocco close, whispering something to him. The cat flies off to the right at super speed, leaving behind only a trail of glowing dust, which quickly disappears.


    In about a minute, Pocco returns, rubbing his face against hers in a comforting manner, then poofs into a glowing sphere of dust, ignoring everyone else.


    I keep repeating ''twenty-two'' in my head, just as my mom taught me. She always said it''s exactly as long as one second.


    He disappears precisely at the minute mark—no more, no less.


    “We’re safe,” she says.


    And so am I. The cat didn’t interact with me this time. Maybe he was too busy scouting and didn’t want to waste his limited time chatting with me.


    I trust them both, which gives me confidence as we make our first steps deeper into the forest. Harald walks beside me, and the couple follows behind, as usual.


    Each step I take, I look at the massive tree trunks. They’re majestic, thick, and wide. As we go deeper, the branches become more crooked, growing outward from the base of the trees.


    This place should be haunting, but it reminds me of my childhood. Wide, sprawling tree crowns like these were playgrounds for me.


    I remember when we used to go to parks during PE class. Similar trees were everywhere, and we’d climb the thick branches that started close to the ground. Climbing higher was banned, of course, and only the class rebels did it. The teachers scolded them, but the girls liked them. I wasn’t one of those kids. I stuck to the farthest tree allowed, my little place of solitude.


    “Boy?” I hear Harald call from a distance, snapping me out of my thoughts. I stop, feeling a bit awkward.


    I immediately change course and walk back toward him.


    “Do you zone out often, boy? It could get you into serious trouble,” he says with a sigh. I hear Mike chuckle from behind, and a flash of negative energy surges through me.


    Damn, I’ve heard that way too many times before. I hope Harald doesn’t notice my clenched fists. I glance at him, but he’s busy scouting the area. We must be close.


    “I was just thinking about the past, and...”


    Harald isn’t paying attention. He stops, turns in place a few times, then looks up into the trees. He might be fit, but he looks like a lost old man with Alzheimer’s right now.


    “There, there!” he says. The couple joins us as Harald points to the treetops. A dirty yellow piece of cloth is hanging with a few ropes attached.


    “Shame on me for not recognizing this place sooner. After all that time, it should be etched in my memory,” he explains.


    “You said you killed wolves from this tree? Not long ago. Where…” Astrid starts to ask, but Harald interrupts.


    “…are the corpses? No traces at all. Something must’ve taken or eaten them. Precisely and cleanly.”


    Fear flashes in his eyes as he glances around. I crouch down, touching the ground to check for any traces.


    It’s dark, so I lie on the ground to get a closer look, scanning the terrain with my eyes.


    “Mr. Nilsson?” Astrid asks, a bit frightened.


    “Aren’t we standing in…”