Chapter 5: First Light, First Knife
The forest was no longer a maze. It had become a crucible.
Kaito had stopped counting the days, assuming days even passed here the way they did in the real world. There was no rising sun, no shifting moon, only a sky choked in mist and branches, and the wet, mold-sweet air that never seemed to move. His legs ached from endless walking, muscles bruised and raw beneath the skin. His shirt was torn down the side, a mix of dried blood and torn fabric clinging to his ribs like decay. His arms were scratched from brush, his hands blistered from gripping makeshift weapons for too long.
He hadn't spoken in hours. Or maybe days. The last word he remembered saying was "fuck," but that wasn't unusual anymore.
He moved like an animal now. Not graceful, but alert. Always listening. Always scanning. The forest didn't kill you with jump scares—it killed you by whispering just loud enough to make you look the wrong way.
His latest weapon—a jagged bone blade carved from the rib of something that had tried to eat him—was already dull at the edge, but still sharp enough to sever tendons. The monsters that came now weren't like before. They had patterns. Coordination. They worked in threes or fours, flanking him through the brush, sending one to draw his attention while another moved silently from behind.
But Kaito had learned too.
The last fight had left him limping, but alive. Three wolf-spined creatures had rushed him near a black root-covered outcrop. One had lunged for his throat. He let it take him down, used its momentum to slam the blade under its ribcage, and rolled as the others pounced.
> [Agility +1]
[Strength +1]
[Pain Resistance +1]
He didn't cheer. He didn't smile. He just staggered forward, breath rasping through clenched teeth, blood seeping into his boot from a torn sole and a worse wound.
Another fight—four crawlers this time. Long-limbed, blind things that echoed clicks through the trees to triangulate movement. He took one down by wrapping its tongue around a tree branch and snapping its neck with a brutal pull. The others chased him for a mile before he lost them by diving into a shallow ravine and holding his breath beneath rotten water for what felt like eternity.
When he emerged, shaking and soaked, he coughed hard, collapsed against a stone, and whispered through cracked lips:
"…You're not going to break me."
His voice cracked. He wasn't sure if he meant it anymore.
> [Endurance +2]
[Poison Resistance +1]
Still, he pressed on. Every few steps brought him something new—an unfamiliar shape among the trees, a sound he couldn't place, or the echo of something breathing just outside the edge of his perception.
He'd begun muttering things to himself. Not full thoughts. Just fragments.
"Left flank was slower… weak on the eyes. Don't slip on moss. If you hear three clicks, duck."
He wasn't even sure if he was making sense anymore, but the rhythm of words helped him stay grounded. Helped him stay real.
His hands trembled often now. Not from fear, but from overuse. The kind of trembling that came from pushing too far, too fast, too long.
But he didn't stop.
He couldn't stop.
And then—change.
It was subtle at first. The branches above seemed thinner. The air warmer. The mist, while still thick, began to swirl more lazily, letting streaks of something unfamiliar bleed through.
Light.
Kaito froze in place. He blinked several times, wondering if it was a hallucination brought on by blood loss or exhaustion. But no—there it was. A single beam, golden and warm, cutting through the canopy and illuminating a small patch of moss ahead.
His throat caught.
He moved slowly toward it, almost reverently, and stepped into the light like it might burn him.
It didn't.
It soaked into his skin. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt warmth that didn't come from blood or fire. Real warmth. Honest warmth. Not the trick of the forest.
Sunlight.
He staggered up a rise, climbing through brambles and roots, ignoring the branches that tore at his arms. At the top, the trees parted. The mist opened like a curtain.
And there it was.
The edge of the forest.
He saw rolling hills beyond. A pale sky. Real distance. Real horizon. It took him a full minute to realize he was smiling. Really smiling.
"I did it…" he murmured. "I actually… I made it…"
His voice was hoarse. Childlike. It felt wrong coming out of him. Raw. Too hopeful.
"But… what now?" he said softly, looking out into the open. "Is this it? Do I… move on? Or is this another trick?"
He squinted, trying to see further—when suddenly—
A scream.
Not a monster. Not a beast.
A voice.
Female. Urgent. Rhythmic. Words he didn't know, but almost understood.
Kaito snapped to attention, his body moving before thought could form. He sprinted toward the sound, leaping over roots, crashing through brush. Every muscle screamed at him to stop, but his mind burned with a single thought:
Someone's here. Someone else.
He burst into a clearing—and froze.
There she was.
Surrounded.
Three creatures encircled her—beasts unlike the ones he'd faced. Larger. Smarter. Their movements coordinated. Their eyes narrow. Their bodies plated with jagged armor, their limbs arched like scythes.
The girl stood in the center, breathing hard, her stance defensive.
But she wasn't human.
And yet, she looked more human than anything he'd seen since arriving here.
Tall—almost a head taller than him. Lean and athletic, but not fragile. Her limbs were long, but balanced. Her skin was smooth and metallic in the light, shimmering with a strange opalescent sheen—somewhere between silver and pearl, with hints of rose and violet that shifted with her breathing. Her hair was white and thick, braided at the side, the rest falling in waves down her back. Her eyes were too large for her face, but beautiful, irises shifting between hues of amethyst and storm-gray. Her cheekbones were sharp, her lips full, her ears subtly pointed, and her voice—when she screamed again—sounded like wind through crystal.
She looked like something born of the stars, and yet she bled like anyone else.
Kaito didn't wait.
He ran in. No strategy. No plan. Just a desperate scream and a bone blade raised high.
The first beast didn't even register him until the blade sank deep into its neck. It roared, twisted, flung him off—but it was dying.
The girl looked at him, eyes wide.
Kaito grinned through the blood on his lips.
"Don't just stand there!" he yelled. "Help me!"
Together, they fought.
He stabbed, ducked, rolled. She moved like lightning, hands striking pressure points, feet snapping joints. One creature tried to tackle her—she flipped it, drove her elbow into its skull, and it stopped moving.
The last one slashed Kaito across the back. He screamed, fell, but rolled and slammed the blade upward into its chest.
It collapsed on top of him.
He shoved it off with a groan and dragged himself upright.
Blood trickled down his arms and from the corner of his mouth. His legs were shaking. His vision blurred.
But he smiled.
He looked at her.
"You okay?" he panted.
She didn't answer. Just stared.
He wiped blood from his lips and gave her a grin he didn't feel.
"You're welcome. That was me. The bloody idiot who ran in. Hi."
He took a step toward her, chest heaving.
And then he froze.
There was a pain in his chest.
Deep. Sharp.
He looked down.
A blade.
Buried beneath his ribs.
Held in her hand.
His own blood spilled across her fingers.
She didn't look angry. She didn't look afraid.
She looked… calm.
Cold.
Kaito coughed. Blood spilled from his mouth.
He opened his lips to speak—but no words came.
She leaned forward.
Said something in her language.
He only understood one word:
Gate.
Then the forest went quiet.
The sun faded.
The light dimmed.
He dropped.
> [Death Recorded]
[Stats Reset – Strength: 0 | Agility: 0 | Endurance: 0]
[Progress Recalibrated]
---
He woke on the floor.
The same ceiling overhead. The same crooked crack in the plaster. The same dim air pressing down on him like wet cloth. He didn't sit up. Didn't twitch. Just lay there, staring up at the wooden beams, trying to remember how to breathe.
The ghost of the knife still throbbed in his ribs. His skin was clean. His chest was whole. But the pain wasn't gone.
It never really left.
Not the physical kind. That always vanished.
The other pain—trust, ripped out of him by the only person he'd seen in this world—stayed behind like ash in his lungs.
He closed his eyes. Let the silence crawl across the floor and wrap around him.
Then, softly, bitterly, he spoke.
"…She didn't even hesitate."
His voice cracked, hoarse and flat, barely more than a breath.
"She looked me in the eye… and smiled."
He sat up slowly, pressing a hand to his chest even though there was no wound. His fingers trembled. Not from pain. Not from fear.
From rage. From humiliation.
"I fought for her. I bled for her. I almost died for her." He scoffed, dragging a palm across his face. "And the second I let my guard down, the second I thought—maybe—I wasn't alone out there…"
He trailed off, eyes distant. Then, quieter:
"I thought she was the first person I'd met."
He stared at his hand—at the bloodless, unmarked skin where her blade had gone in. He laughed once, low and dry.
"Was I that stupid? Was I that desperate? Is that all it takes now? A voice? A face? The illusion of hope?"
He looked up at the ceiling again. At nothing.
"Is that the game? Huh? Is that the goddamn joke? Give me monsters, sure. But make me think… for one second… that something human might be waiting at the end?"
No answer. Of course not.
Only the faint groan of the house. The creak of unseen wood. The wind scraping across the window like claws trying to get in—or get out.
Kaito let out a long breath. Not a sigh. Something heavier.
"She said something before she stabbed me," he whispered, quieter now. "I don't know the words. But I heard one. Gate."
He chuckled darkly, bitter.
"Guess I was getting too close."
He sat there a little longer, cross-legged on the floor like a man waiting for the punchline of a cruel joke.
Then finally, under his breath:
"…It wasn't the monsters."
A pause.
"It was the first person I trusted."
And for the first time since arriving in this world, Kaito didn't cry.
He just stared ahead.
Eyes dry.
Smile gone.
And somewhere, faintly… the clicking began again.
---
Author's Note
Hey guys—if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading Chapter 5: First Light, First Knife.
This one was heavy. Kaito's journey is only getting darker, deeper, and more dangerous from here, so your thoughts genuinely mean the world to me.
Should I increase the chapter length to add more interest?
If you enjoyed the chapter, found yourself surprised, or just have theories or emotions to yell into the void—please don't hesitate to share them. I'm planning to release one new chapter every 3 days, and your support, reactions, and feedback fuel this entire journey.
Let's see how far down the Gate really goes.
– Krishna Mangal