The morning sun never really rose. It just kinda showed up… reluctantly.Like it, too, didn't want to be there.
The group stood near the edge of the clearing, the fire reduced to ash and silence.
Alex's system was still struggling to reboot.
[Core Functionality: 29%]Artifact Beacon: Suppressed. Manual Scanning Required.
But they didn't need a map anymore.
The forest was calling them.
They broke into recon pairs.
Butcher and Hughie took the northern edge.
Kimiko and Frenchie moved east, silent and sharp.
Deadpool and Alex — the most unstable pairing imaginable — went west.
Each pair had one rule: mark where He appears. Do NOT engage.
Deadpool & Alex — Westline
Deadpool walked like he was on a sightseeing tour.
"So. We're walking into a haunted forest looking for a cursed sword embedded in a Shrouded Edgelord's chest. No backup. No map. No fully functioning system. I just wanna say…"
He turned, looking directly at the fourth wall.
"Great job, Author. Really. Peak storytelling. I feel like we're one tree away from being in The Witcher and Dark Souls."
Alex sighed, scanning the corrupted system interface as they pushed through the dense fog between trees. The air felt sticky. Like breathing memories instead of oxygen.
Deadpool stopped.
"You feel that?"
Alex looked up. "Yeah. Cold."
But it wasn't just cold.
The trees whispered. Not loudly. But enough.
Not words. Not language.
Just emotion.
Fear.
Guilt.
Regret.
Deadpool blinked. "Did that tree just remind me of my seventh-grade breakup?"
They walked slower now.
Then, ahead — a flicker.
A shadow.
Too far to see clearly. But they knew.
It was Him.
Motionless. Distant.
But watching.
Alex held his breath. "There."
Deadpool raised binoculars. Lowered them just as fast.
"Yep. Still horrifying."
Alex's system pinged, just once.
[Entity Visual Contact Logged]
The figure didn't move.
But the air pulsed. Like it knew.
Then—He turned.And vanished.
Again.
Just like that.
But this time?
The trees didn't relax.
They tensed.
The forest grew darker.
Deadpool exhaled. "Okay. Observation complete. Let's not die. Back to the group?"
Alex nodded quickly. "Yeah. Good idea."
Meanwhile — Butcher & Hughie
Butcher hacked through brambles with a bowie knife like he was looking for an excuse to kill something.
Hughie walked behind, uneasy.
"Do you think he… like, lives here? The Shrouded One?"
Butcher didn't stop.
"He doesn't live, mate. He waits."
"…That's not better."
Suddenly, Butcher stopped.
He saw it.
Deep slash marks on tree trunks. Old, but glowing faint red.
A trail.
Blood?
No.
Burn marks.
Like something had passed through.
Back at the Van —
The pairs returned, one by one. No injuries. No contact. But all of them?
Shaken.
"I saw him," Frenchie muttered.
Kimiko nodded, expression tight.
"We saw somethings too," Hughie said.
Deadpool threw up his hands. "He's doing a damn cameo in every sector. Like a haunted forest tour guide."
Alex leaned against the van, breathing slowly. "He's guarding something. But he's… showing himself on purpose."
Butcher looked at the others. "He wants us to follow."
Deadpool laughed nervously. "Cool. Maybe after we follow him, he'll offer us coupons for death."
Alex looked out into the trees.
Whatever this was leading to?
It was close.
The sword was calling.
And soon—
They'd answer.