The seventh soul had always been silent, a mere shadow among the others, yet its presence was felt every time the group came together. Now, in the midst of the chaos, the seventh soul found itself alone.
It had lingered longer than the rest, its consciousness dulled by the endless repetition of cycles. It wasn't a true participant in the ritual. Not really. It had never been one to stand at the center, never the one to demand answers or confrontations. But now, as the others fought to escape, it could feel the subtle shift in the air, the change in the very fabric of reality around it.
The landscape twisted as it moved deeper into the forest. The trees seemed to lean toward it, their branches heavy with an unnatural weight. The path it had once known was gone—replaced by something far more oppressive, suffocating. The ground beneath its feet seemed to pulse, alive with an unseen force.
