Chương 13: Chapter 12: The edge

Yato was sitting beside the front door when I came downstairs. He looked up as I approached, tail flicking once.

"Morning." A quiet meow answered me. His eyes moved past me toward the door, then back to my face. I had learned that expression. It was the closest thing a cat could get to asking where I was going.

"Just a longer trip today." Yato stared.

"Don't look at me like that. I'll be back before dark." He didn't seem convinced. I crouched and scratched behind his ears. He leaned into my hand immediately, his earlier curiosity forgotten the moment he got attention. Some things never changed. I checked the time on my phone, grabbed my keys from the counter, and headed for the door. The backpack was already waiting in the car. I had packed everything last night. Water, food, first-aid kit, rope, flashlight, notebook...

The same things I carried on every expedition now. The only difference was today's destination. The mountain. I stepped outside and locked the door behind me. For a moment, I looked back at the house. For the past few weeks, this place had been the only thing keeping me alive. Yato watched me through the window as I walked to the car. I raised a hand. He turned away. Apparently, he had already decided I was embarrassing him. I smiled and started the engine. The drive was quiet. By now, I knew the route well.

The meadow passed on my left, the sheep barely reacting as the car moved by. A few weeks ago, every trip beyond the house had felt like a risk. This place was still impossible. Still dangerous. Still full of things I didn't understand. But now parts of it had started to feel familiar. The mountains grew larger ahead of me until they filled most of the windshield. I followed the road as far as it allowed. Eventually, the path became too steep and uneven for the car.

I stopped in a small clearing, checked the battery one last time, and turned off the engine. Half full. More than enough to get back. I sat there for a moment, looking at the mountain ahead. Until now, every expedition had started and ended with the car nearby. Today would be different. The car was staying here. I grabbed my backpack, stepped outside, and locked the door. The air felt colder without the engine running and the safety of the car. I looked up at the slope ahead. No more roads. No more shortcuts.

Just the mountain. I adjusted my backpack and started walking. At first, the climb wasn't too bad. The slope was manageable, and the adrenaline and the excitement of finally heading toward the mountain carried me forward. For about twenty minutes. Then my legs started reminding me that I was not, in fact, someone who climbed mountains for fun. The incline grew steeper. The ground became less forgiving. Loose stones shifted beneath my boots, forcing me to slow down and watch every step.

More than once, I caught myself wishing I had brought hiking poles. People actually did this voluntarily? They woke up, put on equipment, and decided walking uphill for hours was an enjoyable activity I had questions. Mostly about their sanity. I stopped after the first hour to drink some water and catch my breath. Looking back, I could see the landscape slowly opening below me. The trees that had seemed endless from the ground were already beginning to look smaller. It was strange.

The higher I climbed, the less overwhelming the world became. Not because it was becoming simpler. Because I could finally see more of it. I continued upward. The forest gradually changed as I gained altitude. The thick trees became fewer and more spread out. The sounds of insects and birds faded, replaced by the constant movement of wind through the branches. My pace slowed. Several times, I stopped just to rest my legs. The mountain didn't care how determined I was. It didn't care that I wanted answers.

It only demanded one thing. Keep climbing. By midday, sweat had soaked through my shirt despite the cooler air. I sat on a flat rock, eating the food I had packed while staring up at the remaining distance. The summit still looked far away. For a moment, I considered turning back. Not because I was afraid. Because I was tired. That was something I had learned since arriving here. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

Survival wasn't always about pushing forward. Sometimes, the smart decision was knowing when you had reached your limit. But today wasn't one of those days. I had prepared for this. I had a route back. I had enough supplies. And the mountain was the one place I couldn't investigate from a safe distance. I stood, tightened the straps of my backpack, and continued. The hours blurred together. Step after step. Rock after rock. The world became quieter. The trees became thinner. Until finally... The forest ended.

I stepped onto open ground. Grass replaced the roots and stones beneath my feet. The wind hit me harder here, carrying nothing but the cold, clean air of the mountain. I looked ahead. The summit was close. The final stretch was the hardest. There was no more excitement left to carry me. Only stubbornness. Every step demanded effort. My legs felt heavy, my breathing was uneven, and several times I stopped just to stare at the ground and convince myself that walking another few meters was a reasonable decision.

Eventually, I reached the top. I didn't celebrate. I didn't say anything. I simply dropped my backpack, sat down on the grass, and tried to convince my lungs that they didn't need to escape my body. For several minutes, I did nothing. I drank water. I ate. I watched the clouds drift past. Then, slowly, my breathing returned to normal. Only then did I finally look up and I forgot how tired I was. The view was impossible. From the ground, the world had always felt enormous.

The forest stretched in every direction, hiding whatever secrets existed beyond the trees. Up here... It was different. The forest wasn't endless. It had shape. The river I had followed from a distance became a thin silver line cutting through the landscape. The meadow was no longer a vague clearing; it was a patch of green surrounded by endless trees. And there—My house. Even from this distance, I could recognize it. The clearing around it stood out immediately.

A strange, open circle in the middle of the forest where the trees refused to grow. I stared at it for a long time. Seeing everything at once made the last few weeks feel strangely unreal. The beast. The forest. The river. The impossible rules of this place. All of it existed in one small section of the world below me. Then my eyes continued farther. And I stopped. The forest ended. At first, I thought it was distance, a layer of fog or maybe the clouds covering the land beyond.

I stood and walked closer to the edge. But there was no fog. No mountains in the distance. No ocean. No hidden valley. Nothing. The land simply stopped. Beyond the edge was open sky. Clouds drifted beneath me. I stared. My mind rejected the sight before my logic accepted it. That wasn't possible. It couldn't be. I looked again. The same impossible view remained. The mountain. The forests. The rivers. The entire landscape I had been exploring since arriving here... It wasn't part of a continent. It wasn't a valley.

It was an island. An island floating impossibly high above the world below. I stood there for a long time. There was no explanation. No theory. No way to make it make sense. But denying what I was seeing would have been irrational. Somewhere far below those clouds, there had to be another world. I stepped back from the edge. For the first time since arriving here, I felt like I truly understood the scale of my situation. And somehow... I had only just started exploring.

After thinking for a moment, I took out my phone. For a few seconds, I just held it in my hand. A part of me still expected the screen to somehow confirm that I was imagining everything. It didn't. The camera opened normally. I took a picture of the horizon. Then another. Then several more, adjusting the angle each time. The mountains. The forest. The edge of the island. The clouds below. Proof. That was the word that kept coming back to me. Proof that this place existed. Proof that I wasn't losing my mind.

I turned slowly, taking pictures of everything I could see from the summit. The river cutting through the landscape. The meadow. The distant shape of my house. Even the clearing around it. We were above the clouds both I and the land below me, so the view was perfect to take pictures. I lowered the phone and looked toward the opposite side of the mountain. There were ruins there. Small from this distance. Almost easy to miss. But after looking at them for a while I knew what I was looking at, there was no mistake.

A city. Or what remained of one. Even from several kilometers away, I could make out shapes that nature couldn't create. Tall structures. Broken walls. Lines too straight to be natural. Whoever had built it had done so on this impossible island. And somehow... They were gone. I raised my phone again and zoomed in as far as it would allow. The image quality degraded immediately, but it was enough. A few blurry pictures. Not ideal. Still better than nothing. I saved them carefully. I would study them later.

For now, I had enough. The sun was already moving lower, and I still needed to explore the summit before heading back. The ruins weren't going anywhere. Eventually, I would reach them. Just not today. I put the phone away and continued along the ridge. That was when I noticed the opening in the mountain. A cave. At first glance, there was nothing special about it. No strange markings. No ancient entrance. No sign that anyone had deliberately carved it. Just a dark opening in the rock. But it was unusual.

A cave this high on the mountain could mean shelter. A place where animals might hide. Or maybe... A place where someone had once lived. After seeing the ruins, I couldn't ignore the possibility. I checked the time. Still enough left before the dark. I looked back toward the path down the mountain. The car was far away. The house was farther. But the cave was right here. A quick look wouldn't hurt. At least, that's what I told myself. I turned on my flashlight. The beam cut into the darkness. Then I stepped inside.

The cave was much larger than I expected. My footsteps echoed deeper inside, the sound returning from somewhere far beyond the reach of my flashlight. The temperature dropped quickly. Outside, the mountain wind had been cold, but here there was only stillness. A heavy, unmoving silence. I swept the flashlight of my phone across the walls. Nothing. No markings. No signs of people. No old tools. No evidence that anyone had ever been here. For a moment, I wondered if I had made the wrong decision.

Then the beam moved across the ground. I stopped. At first, I thought they were branches. That was the easiest explanation. The cave floor was covered with them. Except they weren't branches. Not exactly. Some were thicker than my arm. Others were twisted together into a structure that looked almost deliberate. A nest. I moved the flashlight slowly. More details appeared. Strange fibers woven between the branches. Pieces of something I couldn't identify. Some looked like bone. Others looked like scales.

I stood completely still. My mind tried to arrange the information into something that made sense. A large animal. That was possible. A very large animal. But how large? I looked at the nest again. The question answered itself. Whatever had made this... was not something I wanted to meet. My instinct was screaming: Leave. Now. I took one careful step backward. Then another. Slowly. Quietly. I didn't need to know what lived here. I didn't need answers badly enough to risk finding out. I turned toward the entrance.

That was when the light disappeared. Not faded. Disappeared. The cave was suddenly darker than it should have been. For a moment, I didn't understand. Then the wind hit me. A violent rush of air exploded through the cave, throwing dust and loose debris across the floor. My flashlight shook in my hand. A sound followed. A massive rush. A force moving through the air. A wing. No. Not just a wing. Something enormous had landed outside. The entire mountain seemed to tremble. BOOM.

The impact traveled through the stone beneath my feet. Dust rained from the ceiling. I froze. Another sound. BOOM. Closer. Slower. Heavier. Each step sent vibrations through the cave walls. The ground itself seemed to move. BOOM. I couldn't breathe. Run. My body refused to move. The creature outside wasn't searching. It wasn't hunting. It was coming home. Another step. BOOM. The entrance filled with darkness. My grip tightened around my phone. For the first time since arriving in this world...

I understood what it meant to be powerless. The beast outside my house had been dangerous. It had been strong. But it had been something I could kill. Something I could understand. Whatever stood outside this cave was different. I slowly turned. A massive limb crossed the opening. White scales reflected faintly in the fading daylight. A claw touched the stone. Long. Sharp. Dangerous. And then I saw how large it truly was. The last thought that crossed my mind was simple. I was not the hunter.

I was not even a threat. I was prey.