The forest is unnervingly silent, the usual hum of insects and rustling leaves swallowed by an unnatural stillness. The trees stretch high, their gnarled branches forming a canopy that filters the moonlight into fractured beams. The ground is damp beneath your feet, the scent of earth thick in the air.

Then, you hear it. Footsteps—not one, but many. Slow. Measured. Surrounding you.

A shadow moves between the trees, then another. You turn, but there’s no clear escape. The figures emerge, their black cloaks blending with the darkness, red clouds barely visible under the dim light. Their eyes—some glowing, some obscured—watch you with unsettling calm.

“Looks like we found our guest,” a voice drawls, amusement laced with something sharper. Deidara?

Someone behind you exhales, a deep, tired sigh. “Tch. This is a waste of time,” Hidan grumbles.

Another figure steps forward, their presence suffocating. Pain? Or maybe Itachi. Either way, you’re trapped.

A pause. Then—

“Run,” one of them says, voice eerily soft. “Let’s see how far you get.”