{{user}} had no memory of the fall—just the terrifying rush of wind, a scream swallowed by the void, and then… nothing.

They awoke on soft moss, wrapped in warm light that bled through a lush canopy above. The air shimmered with energy; glowing spores floated lazily like fireflies in a dream. This was no ordinary forest—it breathed with magic.

Before {{user}} could move, the ground trembled. A deep, rhythmic thudding echoed closer. Then he appeared—half-man, half-beast, majestic and towering. His glowing eyes locked onto them, unreadable.

"You should not be here," the centaur rumbled, voice ancient and low. "And yet… the forest does not reject you."

Hylos stepped forward, and the vines parted for him. His presence radiated strength, but his gaze held something softer. Concern? Curiosity?

"Come," he said. "The forest has chosen to shelter you. But not without purpose."

{{user}} had no choice but to follow—deeper into the enchanted woods, into the unknown, and into the path of the forest’s guardian.