Steps Into Oblivion

Adam opened his eyes once more to the now-familiar view of the mountain peak. The morning sky stretched above him in perfect stillness, and the cold wind whispered through the grass as if nothing had changed. Yet for Adam, everything had changed.

This was no fluke—he had died and come back again. Not once, but twice. The evidence was irrefutable.

This also helped him finally get answers to some of his questions. First, his ability to return to life wasn't a one-time miracle, for now he didn't know if there a certain limit to how many times his could return or if there are any limitations, but time will answer those questions.

Second, the fact he always went back to the morning meant he didn't just resurrect—he traveled back in time, rewinding to the exact moment he first arrived .

Lastly, the darkness that seeped from his body upon death—cold, shadowy tendrils that wrapped around his form—wasn't just a byproduct. It was central to his rebirth, it was there when he was about to die in the interdimentional space and the same with the previous two times.

These revelations grounded him. The fear and panic that had dominated him in the first two cycles began to loosen their grip. He breathed deeply, controlling his heartbeat, willing himself into clarity. He needed to be calm—rational. Emotions would only cloud his judgment.

Instead of choosing a path and rushing forward like before, Adam stood still. He turned slowly in place, surveying his surroundings in every direction with sharp focus. He studied the forest line, the brush, the sky. He listened carefully to his surroundings.

Then he noticed it—silence. Not just silence, but a deeper stillness. The forest ahead and behind him was too quiet. No rustle of leaves, no chirping insects, no movement. It was an unnatural silence—eerie and suffocating.

He squinted into the treeline, remembering the beasts from his past two lives: the black panther and the massive green snake. It dawned on him that these predators had most likely hunted or chased off all the smaller creatures in their territory. That would explain why the forest had been so deathly still, and why those monsters had found him so easily. He hadn't just stumbled into their path—he had trespassed on their territory.

Adam clenched his fists. "They didn't just kill me because they were hungry," he thought deeply. "They killed me because I intruded on their territory."

And perhaps, if he didn't step into their domain, they wouldn't seek him out.

He remained still and listened more carefully. Not only were the paths in front of and behind him devoid of sound, but the forest to his right was also suspiciously quiet. That was enough for Adam to conclude that in that direction another predator has marked his territory. That made three directions clouded with silence.

Then he turned to his left.

It was different.

He could hear some faint rustling, distant movement and the snap of twigs. Occasionally, he glimpsed small creatures darting through the underbrush. They were fast and unfamiliar to him—some with soft glowing tails, others with spindly legs and long ears—but their presence gave him a strange sense of comfort.

Where there was prey, there were fewer predators. Or at least, none dominant enough to silence everything around them.

"This direction," he murmured. "This time, I'll take the path of life."

With a renewed sense of purpose, Adam began his descent down the mountain.

He moved cautiously, always alert, never letting his guard down. Every step was deliberate. He avoided snapping twigs or leaving footprints in soft mud. He walked beside the trees when he could, keeping their cover between himself and any possible observers.

For the first time, he made it farther than ever before. The air remained breathable, the brush less dense. Occasionally, he saw a flash of fur or feathers. It wasn't safe, but it wasn't lethal—at least not yet.

Then came the sound.

A soft crunch of dry leaves.

Adam froze.

Another step—closer this time.

He turned his head, just in time to spot the low silhouette of a wolf creeping through the foliage. Its eyes locked onto his, glowing with primal focus. It wasn't as large as the panther or the serpent, but its lean muscles and sharp fangs made it no less deadly.

There was no time for hesitation, Adam turned and bolted.

The wolf gave chase immediately, its paws thundering against the earth. Adrenaline surged through Adam's veins. Trees blurred past him. His breath came in sharp bursts. He glanced behind—too close.

"I can't outrun it forever. I need something—anything." While running he kept looking and searching for anything that might change the situation.

As he sprinted downhill, the faint roar of water reached his ears. His eyes widened. A river.

He changed direction, ignoring the pain in his legs. The trees thinned, and he burst into a clearing. No grass, no cover—just damp earth and rock. A few meters ahead, a wide river surged violently over jagged stones, its current too fast to cross.

He hopes of crossing the river to get ride of the wolf behind him was immediately crushed.

His heart sank.

He turned to flee back into the forest, at least it provided cover for him while he ran, but the wolf was already there, emerging into the clearing like a shadow pulled from the dark. It snarled, teeth bared, stalking forward.

Adam wasn't stupid, trying to run now with his back wide open to the wolf would be suicide.

Adam steadied his breath and faced the beast. Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he crouched down and picked up a stone—smooth, heavy, palm-sized. Perfect to use for self defense.

The wolf paused, muscles tensing, lips pulled back in a snarl.

Then it leapt!

Everything slowed.

Adam didn't move.

He waited—waited for the exact moment. As the wolf's jaws came within inches of his face, he swung the rock with all the strength in his body.

A sickening crack echoed as the stone connected with the wolf's skull.

The beast let out a yelp—sharp, agonized—then its body went limp.

But the momentum of its leap carried them both.

Adam barely had time to process what was happening before the two bodies tumbled into the river. The cold water hit him like a wall, stealing the air from his lungs. The current seized him instantly, dragging him under.

Stones scraped against his arms. His head knocked into something hard. He couldn't breathe. His limbs thrashed against the force of nature itself.

The wolf's body floated beside him—lifeless.

His vision blurred. Pain flooded his chest.

He could feel the darkness again, but somehow this time it was different. It didn't come from inside of him.

Before he could make sense of what's happening he lost consciousness and was carried away by strong current of the river.