Everything went white again.

  And then I was falling.

  My arms shot out, flailing, but there was nothing to grab. Before I could even yell, I hit the ground hard. The fall wasn’t far, maybe six feet, but I landed all wrong. My heels struck first, then the rest of me folded sideways. Pain shot up through my hip as I rolled through dust and dry leaves.

  Groaning, I lay there for a moment, blinking grit out of my eyes. My chest ached, my pulse hammered, and my mouth tasted like dirt and blood. What the hell just happened?

  The last thing I remembered was the gods. Or maybe admins. Whatever they were.

  Three cosmic weirdos in mismatched outfits—one in leather, one in a hoodie, and one built like a plastic surgery fever dream. They had looked at me like I was a corrupted file, and when Jora smiled at the end and the other two panicked, and I think something had gone very wrong.

  I pushed myself upright, brushing soil from my clothes. My hands shook as I looked around. The orange-barked trees stretched up in every direction, their leaves glowing faintly in the light. The air felt thick, heavy with silence.

  Were they still watching? Would they erase me from existence for fun? I waited. Nothing happened. No lightning, no divine pop-up, no instant death.

  “Okay,” I muttered. “If they wanted me dead, I’d already be dead. Probably.”

  I looked around slowly, trying to get my bearings. The forest looked the same as before, right down to the faint shimmer in the air where the sunlight hit the bark. I had stood up when a voice spoke behind me.

  “Well, this was a surprise,” said a low, throaty female voice.

  I froze. Then I turned, slow and tense.

  A woman stood there.

  No. Not a woman.

  Another Forest Nymph.

  She must have been here already when I was sent back.

  She looked like the ones I had fought before, but different. Shorter than the others, maybe a little over six feet tall. Her bark was a deep red that looked almost black in the shade. It clung to her body like polished wood, tight and smooth. Her hair was a wild mane of pine needles that framed her face like some kind of feral crown.

  She was beautiful, but wrong. Too perfect. Her skin was seamless, her limbs too even, her face too symmetrical. Her curves were exaggerated but hollow, her chest and hips shaped like an imitation of humanity. No lines, no texture, no marks of life. It was the body of a doll carved by someone who had only seen people in paintings.

  Her eyes glowed like wet glass. The same dew-drop light as the others, but sharper and more focused. When she looked at me, it felt like being pinned by something that enjoyed watching things struggle.

  Above her head, glowing words hung in the air.

  [Forest Nymph Matriarch] {Level 57}

  My stomach sank so fast it hurt.

  “Oh… you’ve got to be kidding me,” I said under my breath.

  She smiled slowly when she heard my whisper. Her lips peeled back, showing smooth white teeth that were just a little too long. The air around her seemed to thicken, pressing against my chest until I could barely breathe. Even the forest went still.

  If she had the word Matriarch in her name, then…

  “I see you helped... kill my daughters,” she said softly. Her gaze flicked to the bodies of the three nymphs lying twisted on the ground. She stepped toward me, bare feet sinking slightly into the earth as she moved.

  Yep. I killed her kids.

  Wait—did she just say helped?

  Does she think someone else did this?

  A strange pressure rippled through the air before I could even answer. A feeling I had right before I was zapped back, like being in something that was getting wet but I still remained dry. Only instead of a heavy rain against a car, this felt like someone aimed a hose directed at the windshield.

  The Matriarch tilted her head slightly, the movement eerily precise. “Here is what is going to happen,” she said, her voice low and steady. Each word was deliberate, like she was reciting a script that only she understood. “You are going to tell me who killed my beautiful girls and where they teleported away to. You will tell me who just sent you back because I am so beautiful that you cannot stop yourself.”

  The words brushed against me like silk laced with needles. My heartbeat spiked.

  Oh great, she was using seduction magic.

  At least the new Admin installed magic-soul-patch-thing seemed to be doing its job. Whatever [Influence Immunity] was supposed to do, it was working. I didn’t feel any pull toward her, no sudden wave of devotion or desire. If anything, her voice made my stomach twist with unease.

  Still, I couldn’t help but wish the old feedback loop had stayed. That would have been nice about now—let the pain bounce back on her instead of me standing here pretending not to wet myself.

  She took another slow step forward. Her movements were smooth, almost hypnotic, like she didn’t actually walk so much as glide through the air.

  “And then,” she continued, her tone softening into something almost kind, “I will slowly pull you apart and watch the light in your eyes die.”

  There it was. The moment of brutal honesty.

  This world is broken, and it's broken in a way that you just can't afford to respond like a sane person.

  On impulse, I decided to play along. I forced a shaky smile and swallowed hard. “Yes, your… b-b-beautifulness,” I said, tripping over every word as I lied. “Anything for your…glittery tree-like beauty.”

  What the hell was that? Did I really just say "glittery tree-like beauty"? That was the best I could do? I was about to die and I sounded like a drunk hitting on a Christmas tree.

  But to my surprise, she smiled. “That is wonderful to hear, my little slave,” she purred. “Now, tell me everything.”

  Huh.

  Guess trees don’t get much exposure to bad acting.

  She moved closer, the space between us shrinking to barely five feet. The air smelled like wet bark and sap, and I could feel a faint hum radiating from her skin. “Go on,” she said. “Start from the beginning.”

  My brain scrambled for something that sounded harmless. “Right, the beginning,” I stammered. “Okay, so I was walking through an airport and I played a game on a slot machine and next thing I know, I’m dropped by a pond in a forest.”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  She narrowed her glowing eyes, unimpressed. “No. After that. The part that matters.”

  I kept talking anyway. Rambling. Desperate. Words spilling out like air from a punctured tire. I told her about running through the stream, about the insane raiders, about how everything here wanted to kill me.

  That part caught her attention. Her head tilted as if to see if there was anyone else nearby, the glowing eyes narrowing slightly as if she were studying what I had said.

  As I talked, my thoughts spun behind the words. What were my options here? Did I even have any? Was I just stretching the story until she got bored and decided to kill me out of hand?

  Wait.

  I had leveled up when I killed her daughters. I had to have above level 20 by now. Maybe that meant a new skill, something that could save my life.

  Still talking, I tried to sound casual as I focused on the corner of my vision. Sure enough, the faint blue shimmer of notifications blinked there, waiting like unopened emails.

  I kept my voice steady, pretending to explain my “tragic backstory,” while my thoughts clicked open the screen that might be the only thing standing between me and living.

  Okay, not bad, I thought as I kept talking, still spinning the story. I reached the part about climbing the cliff and how the warrior woman had fallen to her death. The Matriarch’s glowing eyes sharpened with interest at that detail, though I skipped over the part where I’d insulted her and causing her to fall. No need to advertise that particular talent.

  A faint tremor ran through my muscles as the system pumped the new stat points into me. It was like someone had plugged my nerves into a low-voltage power line. My jaw clenched, but I forced myself to keep my face neutral and my voice steady.

  She didn’t seem to notice. Good.

  Last time I’d leveled up, it had hit me like a seizure. This time, the rush seemed smaller, just heat under my skin, a pulse in my veins, a flicker of strength that felt both alien and mine. Likely less impact due to the fact that I only leveled up five times vs. seventeen.

  Another blue shimmer blinked in the corner of my vision. A new notice.

  I opened it with all the hope I had left.

  Oh fuck me.

  Of course that’s what I got. I stumbled over my words in the description of going through the fields as I realized that I have gotten an ability that will help me none whatsoever. The Matriarch’s glowing eyes narrowed, focusing on me like she could smell hesitation.

  “Oh,” I said quickly, forcing a weak laugh. “The story is just… hard to tell when I’m looking at someone as amazing as you. Can I stop and just, you know, tell you in like…a hundred ways how beautiful you are?”

  She sighed, long and dramatic, like a teacher dealing with a slow student. “Maybe later, little idiot. Get to the part where you met my daughters.”

  That seemed to do the trick. She was still convinced I was trapped under her spell. I kept talking, my mouth running on autopilot as I described entering the forest and hearing strange sounds.

  Weirdly, it hit me that this was the longest I’d talked in days, and it was all an attempt to not die.

  Okay, enough stalling. What were my options?

  The only attack I had was [Vicious Mockery]. It wouldn’t kill her, but it might stun her long enough for me to move or do something desperate. Assuming whatever insult came out of my mouth didn’t just make her furious enough to snap me in half.

  I mentally scrolled through my other skills.

  [Musical Resonant Frequency] was a no. I can explode rocks with it, but I’d need her to stand still for ten minutes while I played the world’s worst flute solo. Not happening.

  [Influence Immunity] was passive. [Magical Berry] was… a joke. Great for a picnic, not a fight.

  That left [Magic Mouth], which has reinforced my mouth but nothing else. But I can’t use..that…

  Oh god damn it.

  I knew exactly what I could do.

  I had a plan. A stupid, angry plan. And I hated it already.

  I just needed to get close.

  Still talking, I steered my fake story toward the moment I’d first heard the singing in the woods. The Matriarch’s attention sharpened immediately.

  “And then what happened?” she asked, her voice curious now.

  “Well,” I said, lowering my tone like I was sharing a secret. “I heard something I’d never heard before. And I saw something I’d never seen.”

  I took a slow step forward. She didn’t move.

  “It scared me,” I said, another step closer. “There was a man. He called himself an Administrator.”

  Her head tilted sharply. “Explain that.”

  Yes.

  I took another step and placed my hand on her chest, just above the smooth curve where bark turned to polished wood. Her body was hard, like warm furniture in the sun, solid but faintly pliable.

  “Go on,” she said.

  I leaned closer, my lips almost brushing the surface of her neck. “I’m scared to talk about it,” I whispered, letting my voice tremble as I lied. “But you’re just so beautiful.”

  She wrapped her arms around me. It was the imitation of a comforting gesture, all warm and slow pressure, and I felt the threat in it like a bruise forming. Her hands cupped my back the way a child might cup a snack. She bent close and said, soft as a lullaby, "You are safe now. Tell me".

  My mouth moved before my head could catch up. I said what the actor would say, the line I hoped would sell the whole thing. “ He told me to ask you”, I stammered, and then I activated [Vicious Mockery].

  “How many children will you bury before you learn to smile about it?”

  The effect was immediate. Surprise spread across her face and opened her mouth in a silent O. The arms that had held me tight loosened as if their purpose had evaporated. For a beat, she hung there, stunned.

  That is my opening. I lunged.

  I jumped upward and clamped my teeth down on the soft part of her throat, where bark gave way to something closer to skin, basically the same move vampires do in horror movies. Magic Mouth really had done a number on my jaw. My teeth sank in far enough to pull, to grab, to start to tear.

  The Matriarch screamed and reacted in a primal way that was probably the only reason I did not die right there. Instead of crushing me or attacking me, she did the sensible reactionary thing.

  She threw me away.

  The force of the throw ripped the chunk I had bit into out of her neck. I flew through the air, a ragdoll with a mouth full of wood, and I hit the ground twenty feet away. I rolled another dozen feet on dirt and grass, tasted bark and something bitter and oily, and spit. A chunk of splintered wood stuck to my lower teeth. I had to work at it with shaking fingers until the splinter came loose. It landed on the soil as I flicked it away.

  My face and hands were slick with dark sap. It smelled like burnt sugar and old engine oil. It made my tongue numb in a way that felt biological and wrong.

  The Matriarch was screaming. Her sound was a wet, animal noise that tore the air. She thrashed on the ground, her hand clawing at her neck where the wound fountained black and sticky liquid. Her legs kicked, and she rolled like a person having a seizure. The oily sap was pooling on the ground beneath her.

  Ugh. I really hate how well this worked out

  I watched for several minutes from as safe a distance as she fought to do something for the wound. Each spasm was a suggestion that she might rise and crush me.

  But after a while, the struggling slowed. Her movements grew smaller, less organized, until she lay there heaving and then very still. The blood sap continued to pour from her neck.

  Do not trust stillness, my brain insisted. Monsters pretend to be dead all the time when they are biding their time.

  There was no little blue box screaming congratulations at her death.

  Keeping my distance, I sat down shaking to wait and see if she bled out.