The casual runnel of water moved along with a persistent, yet shimmering reflection of a young man. Cast in the muted half-light, he sat in idle meditation at its bank.

His return saw the passage of morning, but now something was wrong.

Shortly after he had washed up, eaten, and finally began to destress amongst the thinning ambiance, a disquiet began to stir his image. A deep crease of worry greeted him as his eye rippled open to see his mirrored self dissipate from the water.

Something definitely doesn't add up. when was it...

He began to retread his most recent encounter in the [Pinekin] copse where he had fought aggressively. The wolves fell one by one and he even used the [Canopy Spider] to do so, even though he didn't know its full range of abilities. A risk he now wasn't sure he would've taken in a similar, yet different situation.

Why did I retreat so quickly after the fight, and from what?

Quintin hadn't thought about it at the time, but outwardly, his body had been in full-on retreat mode from almost the very start.

It was as if my subconscious mind was pleading with me to hurry up, and it influenced me to that end with almost every action.

A deep frown had been brewing for a while, now that he had eaten a couple of the fruits he was only feeling less and less secure.

I have to go back and figure this out or I won't be able to remain calm, all the while looking back over my shoulder. I'll leave everything I don't need inside the shell, hidden beneath some rocks here. I've only got enough [PP] built up to fire seven or so projectiles. I'll travel light, and see what can be seen there with a fresh take.

He was lost in thought as he stood and looked into the thick vegetation and trees towards an eerie feeling he couldn't place with any certainty.

Quintin gradually made progress, only slowing when he got closer to the [Pinekin's] Hold to concentrate on the edge of [Sinisphere's] range.

Anything that would make my body and subconscious scream out in this way may not even be scannable. Maybe there are ways to evade various perception-based abilities? He forced himself to actively think of possible answers, in equal parts an attempt to calm his racing heart, as it was an attempt to understand.

In an instant, Quintin seemed to enter a different place and environment. One moment he was walking along with serene nature as his guide, the next it became a blood-red, open chasm of killing intent where everything died. Whether it be an illusion or an actuality of organic materials being smelted inside an inferno-engine of hatred, mattered not.

Sweat scaled up and down his spine, the fine hairs on his arms stiffened from the tumult of pure hatred.

It... hates the living? Why did I not feel this presence until now? He struggled to keep his thoughts, and knees moving him forward at a crawl.

He drew closer to the misanthropic vibrancy that constantly unfolded itself into new layers. Through wither-shorn trees and over hell-snake bramble that belched out smoke as he passed by while crawling forward. The weightiness on his back was pure malevolence, but it was mostly directed at another, smaller intent fully engulfed by the pressure. Quintin could tell that it didn't seem to falter in the least as it opposed the tyrannical oppression with minimal effort.

Hehe... I must be crazy for doing this. At this point, I just have to see. I've come this far, I'm in it now, but why can't I stop myself from being drawn in? I just need to see! [Envision] will allow me to see it and then I can bolt... Just a little bit closer now... Quintin subdued a nervous chuckle by biting his lower lip.

By now he realized there was a strange compulsion that drew him in, one he fought against, but every time he got the idea to turn around a strange version of, 'I have to see it,' would break his thought train. If he had to see it in order to leave, then he would.

With a stifled breath, he activated [Envision] and sent the tendril of auric vision out from the devil grass and hazy redness that engulfed him.

What he saw In the clearing there was nothing,

No bodies, blood, or [Pinekins].

No [Canopy Spiders] hanging in the boughs,

nor even the battle-scars on the ground and bark of trees. But

this was only on first blush. His hovering sight came to rest on the spot where he had fought the [Canopy Spider], its corpse had been replaced. What now resided there, nestled up high on a throne of blood-red shrubbery, was the magnificent, ever-larger [Pinekin] from earlier.

This was the realm of the gigantic, regal [Pineking] all along.

Quintin gasped from the sudden realization, fell backward onto his butt, and subconsciously scooted back into the base of a nearby tree. It had always been there in the background, watching and waiting for him to come closer. It laid there patiently knowing that humanity is foolhardy and greedy and yet some part of himself knew it was dangerous ahead of time.

...let the faints fall where they may. Death comes straight away... It was never a feint, to begin with. when death comes it comes with little warning. He didn't know if it was because of the shock or if some small part of his subconscious mind was smugly saying, 'See, told ya so,' but he had calmed down a little with the passage of knowledge.

[new understanding.
recorded.
...
...
...
[Sinisphere|Envision] experience.
calculated.
...
...
...]

His breathing became noticeably more stable, his eye, sharper and more aware as he continued to look at the [Pineking] and area. The first thing he noticed was a tiny, Emerald furred creature that sat in a crouch around ten feet from the throne of shrubbery. A large violet gem was inset inside its forehead and it waggled its forked tail to and fro while smugly regarding the [Pineking].

That must be the creature being battered by a majority of the malevolent killing intent, [Identify]!

With another round of cold sweating, the statement of annoying trickled down his thoughts as he tried to parse that trainwreck of information.

Is there anything I can actually use in all this? Maybe that it can manipulate... things? The compulsion to come closer... Its non-threatening demeanor from before coupled with its ability to hide from perception abilities like [Sinisphere]... Now, this. If it wasn't for this green furball I probably wouldn't have a single idea how I even died.

He then focused on the green furball.

Quintin stared down from his vantage point knowing he had stepped into something that was out of his realm; a fight between two monsters that might see him dead before lunchtime. He felt rather powerless, his mind rifled through the ways he could get out of this mess when a voice slithered into his mind from out of the blue.

"So the prodigal insect returns. I was just about to come visit you and all my Pinekin down by the brook, and the feast you promised." Its voice rumbled through the air, not unlike a barrel of snakes in a maniacal imitation of spoken language.

Quintin truly did feel like an insect at that moment.