Adrian and Emily placed the plank down and stepped off the ship, their feet pressing into the black sand. But something was off. The ground beneath them didn’t have the soft, grainy texture of ordinary sand—it was solid, almost like concrete.


    "That''s strange," Adrian muttered, crouching down to examine it.


    Emily raised an eyebrow, puzzled by his sudden interest.


    “The black sand… when it’s loose, it feels like regular sand, but when packed together, it hardens like stone,” Adrian observed, running his fingers through the strange material.


    "This island is bizarre. I can''t even tell if it’s night or day," Emily said, glancing up at the sky, shrouded in dark, unmoving clouds.


    "Yeah, I get what you mean," Adrian agreed.


    Their trek continued until they reached the dense forest of crimson trees. Even at a glance, Adrian could tell they weren’t normal. Their trunks weren’t made of wood—instead, they gleamed like polished gemstone, as if red emeralds had completely encased them.


    "I haven’t seen many forests, but I’m pretty sure trees aren’t supposed to be made of crystal," Adrian murmured.


    "Whatever happened to these trees… it’s not natural," Emily said, stepping closer to inspect one.


    Then—


    Bang!


    A sharp crack split the air.


    Gunfire.


    Adrian''s instincts screamed at him. His eyes darted toward the source, but before he could react, a bullet tore through the air, heading straight for Emily.


    Time slowed.


    With no time to think, Adrian lunged, his hand snapping out. He caught the bullet mid-flight, the impact stinging his palm, but it was better than letting it find its mark.


    Emily stumbled back, inches from death. Her breath was unsteady as she looked at Adrian, realization sinking in.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "Thanks," she breathed.


    "Don''t worry about it. Just get up. We don’t know where they are, but they’ll fire again."


    The two held their ground, their eyes scanning the dense landscape. They controlled their breathing, trying to pick up any movement, any trace of their attacker.


    Another shot rang out.


    This time, Adrian was ready. He activated his Trinket, his energy flaring to life as he deflected the bullet with his dagger, sending it hurtling back in the direction it came from. His Trinket allowed him to see the trail of Source Energy left by the bullet—a glowing thread leading straight to its origin.


    Found you.


    Adrian propelled himself upward, landing atop one of the crystallized trees. From this vantage point, he traced the bullet’s trajectory, eyes narrowing as he scanned the distance. He needed to be fast, but not so fast that he lost track of his target.


    He moved.


    Leaping from tree to tree, he pursued the trail at a speed that rivaled the bullet itself—no, faster than the bullet. The world blurred around him as he covered kilometers in mere seconds, his focus razor-sharp.


    Then, he saw them.


    Perched on a high branch, a hooded figure clutched a sniper rifle, their presence blending into the eerie crimson forest. But they weren’t unprepared—they immediately spotted Adrian.


    Can he reload in time?


    Adrian got his answer within seconds.


    The shooter moved with practiced precision, chambering another round, aiming, and firing in one seamless motion.


    Adrian deflected it mid-air and lunged.


    His dagger sliced through the air toward the shooter’s chest, but in a flash, the sniper rifle swung up, its barrel blocking his strike. The force of the clash sent vibrations through the air as sparks flew.


    They tumbled from the treetop, locked in combat even as they fell.


    Adrian pressed his assault, his attacks relentless. His training showed—every movement was controlled, every strike precise. The Breath of Life technique steadied his nerves, allowing him to fight through pain, to focus entirely on the battle. It was the only reason he could keep going despite the wound in his hand from earlier.


    But the hooded figure wasn’t a novice.


    In a swift counter, they kicked Adrian’s dagger from his grasp, sending it spinning into the darkness.


    Adrian didn’t hesitate.


    His fist clenched. He twisted his body mid-air, coiling his strength, and then—


    Boom.


    His punch landed squarely in the shooter''s chest with the force of a charging beast, sending them hurtling into the ground below. The impact left a crater in the hardened black sand.


    Adrian landed beside them, breathing heavily.


    "I guess I win," he said, standing over his opponent.


    "You guessed wrong."


    Before he could react, another gunshot rang out.


    Too close.


    Acting on instinct alone, Adrian caught the bullet mere inches from his face.


    But the brief distraction was enough.


    The hooded figure swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing down. Adrian attempted to rise, but before he could, a heavy boot pressed against his torso. Cold metal kissed his forehead—a sniper rifle aimed directly between his eyes.