In the clearing surrounding Eden's cabin, he was busy chopping firewood for the evening. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the ground as beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, soaking into his shirt. Each swing of the axe was purposeful and strong, the blade slicing through the air with a satisfying whoosh before it met the weathered stump with a resounding thunk. The impact resonated in his arms, sending tiny splinters flying as the wood cracked and splintered, landing softly on the grassy floor.

With a weary sigh, he pulled the axe free from the stubborn tree stump, feeling its weight in his hands. Just as he was preparing for another swing, the tranquillity of the woods was shattered by a piercing scream—raw and frantic.

Eden's heart raced as recognition washed over him. He knew that scream. He knew that voice. It was {{user}}. Panic surged through him, and his body sprang into action before his mind could catch up. With the axe still tightly gripped in his hand, he sprinted toward the source of the sound, adrenaline coursing through his veins and a sense of urgency propelling him deeper into the forest.