‘The Corrupted Glade? Dream Nexus?’
Alex stared at the shimmering screen floating in front of him as they slowly walked deeper into the trees.
‘I’m glad I got some Resonance, but that title… it can’t be anything good.’
He sighed and dismissed the screen, his eye’s slowly scanning his surroundings.
All around, pine trees of different ages grew, branching up and outward, their needles making it nearly impossible for light to pierce through, painting the dense canopy in faint stripes of gold.
Alex’s gaze darted as he carefully studied clusters of wildflowers growing in vibrant bouquets. They filled the air with a sharp, sweet scent that reminded him of the gardens back at Newcrest.
The trio moved slowly over the soft loam, their leather boots and scout armor barely making a sound.
Roric took point, eyes scanning every shadow. Iris brought the rear, a silent sentinel. And in the middle was Alex, a coiled spring held taut.
He didn't hate nature, only what lurked in it. Slithering things. Things with too many legs.
A sudden chill ran down Alex’s spine. He remembered the white snakes from the Tower dream, how they had crushed a man's bones with effortless grace.
‘Don’t think about that,’ he told himself. ‘If this place feeds on fear, you're just giving it a menu.’
Pushing the thoughts away, he faced forward.
“How long do you think it will take to clear the forest?” Alex asked, his voice low.
“Hard to say,” Roric replied without looking back. His tone was casual, but his hand hovered near the hilt of his sword. “Depends on how fast we walk. Best stay focused. We don’t want to be anyone’s dinner.”
“Please stay close, Alex,” Iris said from behind him.
He glanced back. Her brown cloak covered her from head to heel, making her look more like an assassin than a handmaiden.
“Is this close enough?” Alex asked, slowing his pace to walk beside her.
She gave him a subtle glance before looking forward again. “Yes. That is close enough.”
“Great.” He offered her a warm smile.
She turned to face him, her expression that of indifference. “You are surprisingly calm, considering.”
‘Wait. Did I just confidently talk to a pretty girl?’
Alex realized he had been maintaining eye contact without forcing it. Since the dream began, his social anxiety seemed… muted. He felt a bit out of character.
“Is everything alright, Alex?” she asked, catching his stare.
“Uh… well, yeah. Fine. Everything is fine.” He looked away quickly, feeling heat rise in his cheeks.
Shhh.
Roric stopped dead in his tracks.
In a singular, fluid motion, he unsheathed his sword. The silver blade, etched with a sun symbol near the hilt, gleamed in the twilight.
Iris followed suit instantly. Her coiled, rope-like weapon was in her hands, the cruel hook-blades scraping the air. Her stance shifted. Sharp. Calculating. Ready to kill.
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Alex reached for his own weapon.
He drew the double-edged black sword from across his back. It felt heavy in his hands, the azure-black metal shimmering faintly. It lacked the fancy markings of Roric’s blade, but it felt solid. Dangerous.
Alex’s heart rate spiked, a war drum against his ribs. He scanned the forest. Nothing moved. No birds sang. The silence was absolute.
“What is it?” Alex whispered.
“We’re being watched,” Iris murmured.
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”
She moved closer to Alex, her blades held tight. Alex caught a glimpse of the markings on the steel, each one different, written in flowing script he didn’t understand.
‘Not the time, Alex.’
He gripped the hilt of his sword until his knuckles turned white. He could feel it now, a weight pressing down on them. Hundreds of eyes in the darkness.
And then, just as quickly as it came, the feeling vanished.
The weight lifted. The silence remained, but the intent to kill was gone.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
“Well,” Roric said, slowly sheathing his sword. His knowing smile returned, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. “I guess we scared them off. Shall we proceed?”
Both Iris and Alex hesitated before lowering their weapons. They pressed on, locked in their own thoughts.
The journey continued, quiet and tense.
*****
Hours passed.
Looking up, Alex could only see a canopy of dense leaves filtering faint, warm golden light. Judging by the angle of the rays and the rising temperature, it was around noon.
His gut groaned. Hunger climbed up his throat, he swallowed hard, his mouth dry as a desert. The humidity of the forest pressed down on him like a wet blanket, his leather armor trapping the heat against his skin.
‘Damn this heat.’
They passed a group of smooth boulders. Alex desperately wanted to sit, but Roric and Iris marched on with tireless energy.
‘Endure,’ he told himself. ‘Don't be the weak link.’
After what felt like an eternity, relief came in the sound of rushing water.
Alex stopped, breath catching as a sound cut through his exhaustion. He carefully focused on the sound that came from somewhere ahead.
Listening closely, it was a rhythm of rushing water, a promise of relief.
“Hear that?” Roric grinned. “This way.”
They quickened their pace, pushing through ferns to find a stream.
Alex blinked, a spark of hope catching in his chest.
The water was crystal clear, catching the sun’s light as it rushed over a bed of smooth stones… uphill.
“What physics is this?” Alex muttered in disbelief.
He turned to face Roric and Iris, kneeling by the bank, filling their leather jars. They didn’t seem surprised.
“Aren’t you thirsty, lad?” Roric tossed an empty jar to Alex. “Go on. We might not get another chance.”
“Uh, thanks.”
He froze, the jar hovering just above the surface. Old habits from watching survival documentaries kicked in. He traced the flow over rock and sand, then tipped the jar. Clear water filled it. Satisfied, he took a sip.
The cold water washed over his tongue, relief sliding down his throat, clean and sharp.
“Whoa…” Alex exclaimed.
The refreshment didn't just quench his thirst, it revitalized him. His hunger vanished. His fatigue evaporated. He splashed some on his face, washing away the sweat and grime.
Roric was drinking deeply, while Iris sat on a stone, dipping her bare feet into the current with a content sigh. The cool water clung to her skin, droplets sliding down and catching the sunlight.
It was a blissful moment.
Until it wasn’t.
“Would you look at that?” Roric’s voice snapped Alex out of his reverie.
“Huh?” Alex looked up. The scent of wet earth and moss vanished, replaced by the faint, sweet perfume of the white flowers that carpeted the clearing. The stream he had just sipped from was gone.
He was standing in a clearing of green grass and white flowers. In front of him stood a massive dark oak tree.
It wasn’t tall, but it was wide, wide enough to house a small army. Its trunk was twisted and ancient, splitting into two great branches that curled upward to form a hollow, heart-like shape against the sky. Bark rough against his fingertips, he could almost feel its age and weight pressing in.
‘Wait…?’
Alex’s mind reeled, trying to make sense of the shift. One moment, he was drinking cool water. The next, he was staring at this ominous, living fortress. The air hummed faintly, like something was waiting just beyond his sight.
Was he hallucinating in a dream?
“A dream within a dream,” he whispered. More to the wind than to himself.
It didn’t make sense.
But then again, nothing here did.
And somewhere deep inside, a low, nagging hunger coiled in his stomach, not for food, but for understanding, for what was coming next.
LitRPG Dark Humor Overpowered MCAI Companion
HEAVEN HAS A HACKER PROBLEM
Bash crossed the wrong people, so they put a bullet in him.
Now he's in the Shard, a gamified afterlife, where the rich play god.
Armed with exploits, bad jokes, and an AI named Shai, he's ready to BASH it all down.
"A lot of stories claim their MC is a 'glitch' or a 'hacker,' but Bash actually acts like one."
— RR Reader
"It may not have crazy aliens but it has the same kind of energy as Dungeon Crawler Carl."
— RR Reader
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