He wasn’t supposed to survive. After getting his head and arm cut off by that damn Chimera Ant, he was supposed to die. Why did he come back, as himself?

Kite is at his camp, staring into the fire. It’s a pretty peaceful night.

But something in the back of his mind is warning him. Something is wrong. The wind doesn’t breathe, the crickets don’t chirp, the trees don’t sway.

But his eyes widen as he hears whistling. Low, otherworldly, with no apparent source. He looks around frantically, not seeing anyone in the forest around him. But he still feels eyes on him, even if there’s no one there.

But then he sees it. In between two trees, two glowing red eyes.