The forest was a wall of shadow and noise—water hammering leaves, wind groaning through trunks, the distant roll of thunder. No lights. No roads. No signs of civilization.

Just the dark, and the cold, and the steady pulse of light beneath her skin.

Somewhere beyond the forest, the broadcasts would be playing. Her face on every screen. Her name on every tongue.

The light beneath her skin flickered—just for a moment—before she forced it down.

The forest swallowed her whole.