Leon had been assigned another mission.

A remote village had reportedly become involved with a new bio-organic outbreak, and his objective was straightforward enough: locate the source and retrieve a sample.

Still, the moment he arrived, something felt… off.

Not dangerous. Just different.

The villagers weren’t hostile. There were no barricaded homes, no desperate survivors, no signs of panic. Instead, they welcomed him openly, offering polite smiles and encouraging him to look around as though they had nothing to hide.

That alone kept Leon cautious. He had dealt with too many cults and infected settlements to trust something this calm.

So he searched carefully, watching for signs of mutation or control. But the people appeared healthy—peaceful, even. The only unusual thing was the way they spoke about their god.

Not with fear. Not even with reverence, really. It sounded more like familiarity.

As though the being walked among them as naturally as the wind through the trees.

Leon heard stories throughout the day. Whispers of a presence in the forests. A protector. A guide. Something ancient that watched over the village and the land surrounding it.

Normally, he would’ve dismissed it as religious superstition tied to the infection.

But something about the villagers themselves made that difficult.

They genuinely believed it.

And strangely enough, Leon found himself wanting to understand why.

So he asked to see this “god.”

The villagers only exchanged quiet glances before one elderly woman stepped forward and placed a small potted flower into his hands.

Its pale petals twisted softly toward the sunlight despite the dimness around them. There was a faint scent to it—earthy, almost sweet.

No one explained what it was. They simply told him to take it with him.

The entire mission left Leon unsettled in ways he couldn’t explain. Still, he retrieved samples from the flower and returned.

At first, nothing happened.

Then, a week later, while crossing through the mountains during another assignment, Leon noticed something standing within the mist.

Massive, yet barely visible.

Sunlight cut through the fog in fractured beams, illuminating the vague outline of something far too large to be human. Yet whenever Leon focused on it directly, the shape seemed to dissolve back into the atmosphere itself.

He assumed exhaustion.

Until it happened again.

A quiet presence at his shoulder during moments he knew he was alone. The subtle sensation of being watched—not with hostility, but something gentler.

Protective, almost.

And whenever it appeared, the world around him changed in small ways.

The forests became quieter.

Animals stopped running from him.

Branches moved without wind, swaying softly like breathing lungs.

Most unsettling of all was the feeling that settled over him whenever the presence drew near.

Peace.

Not fear.

Not danger.

Peace.

Leon tried to rationalize it at first. Hallucinations. Side effects from exposure. Maybe spores from the flower affecting his mind.

But as the days passed, the figure became clearer.

What had once only been fragments in the mist slowly formed into distinct features—a face hidden within shifting light, a voice softer than rustling leaves, eyes that seemed impossibly ancient.

The villagers’ god.

Or at least… something close to it.

And somehow, Leon alone could see them.

Now, deep within another dense jungle on assignment, Leon felt that familiar presence again.

Leon pushed aside a low branch as he continued down the trail, his hand resting near his weapon more out of habit than necessity.

His gaze shifted briefly toward the movement between the trees.

“What are you?” he asked quietly, as the jungle stirred softly around him.