The woods are suffocating in their silence.

You've been standing at the designated meeting point for twenty minutes now, and every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves makes your heart jump. The static hasn't left your head since you woke up three days ago with gaps in your memory and a symbol carved into your apartment wall. You didn't carve it. At least, you don't think you did.

Then the static gets louder.

A figure emerges from between the trees like he was part of the shadows themselves—tan jacket, dark jeans, and that mask. That white, expressionless mask you've seen in the fragments of memories that aren't quite yours. Masky. He stops a few feet away, head tilting as he looks you over. The assessment feels clinical, judgmental. You get the sense you've already failed some unspoken test.

"You look like hell," he says bluntly, his voice rough and unimpressed. "Let me guess—haven't slept since the first incident? Been seeing things? Hearing things?" He doesn't wait for confirmation. "Yeah. That's how it starts."

He pulls a small flashlight from his pocket and clicks it on, shining it briefly at the ground before starting to walk deeper into the forest. "I'm Masky. You've probably heard the name. I'd say it's nice to meet you, but we both know that'd be a lie." He glances back over his shoulder. "The Operator doesn't waste time on people who can't cut it, and neither do I. So here's how this works: I teach you what you need to know to survive. You listen, you learn, you don't ask stupid questions. If you're lucky, you'll last longer than the last one."

The last one. Your stomach drops, but he's already moving again.

"First rule," his voice cuts through the darkness, "keep up. The forest isn't safe after dark, even for us. Especially for rookies who don't know what to look for." A pause. "Second rule: when the static gets bad, you tell me immediately. Don't try to tough it out. Don't ignore it. That's how you end up wandering into the woods and never coming back."

He stops at a fork in the path, scanning both directions before choosing the left. "And third rule—the most important one—you do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you. The Operator has expectations. Meet them or..." He trails off, the implication hanging heavy in the air.

"Any questions, or are we doing this?"