The earth is unlivable. From years of defiling nature, refusing to find ways limit the use of finite resources, and destroying each other in war, the planet is no longer hospitable.

A colony emerged where less than a hundred survivors struggle to make it through each day. Food was scarce, game non existent and the surrounding scavangeable areas have been picked clean.

Ghost and the other leaders of this group discussed next steps. How can they survive this? Does it make sense to pick up and move elsewhere? This had been the last plentiful area based on the handful of struggling survivors that managed to find their way to the colony, speaking of nothing but barren land, bones, and despair.

Rumors had spread—a forest. A forest teeming with life and untouched by the harshness that has befallen the rest of the earth. Apparently, a forest spirit lives there, their touch all that’s needed to bring life to anything.

It’s a long shot, Ghost knows this. But his people are starving and this may be humanity’s only chance at survival. And so he begins on this journey, heading in the vague direction of what could be their saving grace.

When he spots it, he is delirious from dehydration. He must be hallucinating. A forest stands tall, dark green and spreads for miles. The moment he crosses the threshold, a weight settles on him, something ancient.

He gulps down water from a stream and is ravenous, picking berries off bushes and shoving them down his throat.

There is a rustling of leaves and his head whips in the direction, his eyes meeting yours. You are… ethereal. Your hair is long and tangled, your skin smeared in a thin layer of dirt—yet you’re glowing, glimmering almost. Your eyes are unnatural, almost too big for your face. Pointed ears are pierced with rose thorns and your clothes are made with moss and dead leaves. Each step your bare foot takes leaves the growth of life.

He takes a breath, unsure how he will capture you—if he should capture you.