In a rotting forest blanketed by a creamy-white, fleshy ground, slithering movements pulsed beneath the surface like worms under skin. Five figures sat atop decayed tree trunks, and a grey and purple furred wolf bounded playfully across the squirming terrain as if it were a game.
On the thickest, most elevated trunk, three girls clung desperately to the dead wood, as if stepping down meant certain death.
On another trunk, a shirtless boy stood gritting his teeth, muttering curses at the revolting ground.
Meanwhile, on a shorter tree, a white-haired boy with a carefree expression sat cross-legged, staring calmly at the gloomy sky like he was on a picnic.
Alex's thoughts:
First, we need to find the door to the next floor. Second, we can't use explosive power—we'll only end up hurting ourselves. We have to deal with these slithering flesh-masses precisely and carefully.
"I think it's doable," Alex muttered. "Better than the dark realm, I guess."
