The Hunter’s Path

**

Ethan's senses were assaulted by the scent of damp earth, heavy and thick, as he stumbled forward into the underbrush. The air was thick with the hum of insects, and the sky above was shrouded in a hazy dusk, the light dimming quickly as the sun sank behind a line of jagged mountains. He could hear the faint rustle of something moving through the trees, and instinctively, his hand moved to the knife at his belt. 

He wasn't sure how, but he knew—he was a hunter now. His muscles were taut, his body lean and conditioned for survival. The world around him felt alive with danger. A quick glance at his hands showed calloused palms, roughened by years of gripping weapons and climbing, while his eyes darted through the shadows, scanning for movement. 

"Focus," he muttered to himself. 

This life was different. Unlike the ones he had experienced before, there was no sense of normalcy here, no family to return to or music to play. This was raw, a life bound to the hunt, the survival of the fittest. 

Suddenly, a rustle in the bushes broke his concentration. He spun, his hand moving automatically to draw the knife. But when the figure emerged, it wasn't a wild animal—it was a man, wild-eyed, dirty, and holding a rifle. 

The stranger froze upon seeing him. 

"You're not one of them, are you?" the man asked, his voice rough, his breath coming in quick gasps. 

Ethan hesitated. "Who are you?" 

"I'm Ivan," the man said, lowering his rifle slightly. "You're not from around here, are you? You look... out of place." 

"I could say the same about you," Ethan replied, still on guard. 

Ivan's eyes darted around the clearing before he spoke again. "We're not safe here. The hunters are closing in." 

Ethan's brow furrowed. "Hunters? Who are they?" 

"The ones who hunt us." Ivan's voice dropped to a whisper. "The ones who are not supposed to exist, but they do. They're after people like you, like me." 

Ethan felt a chill run down his spine. He took a step back, trying to make sense of the situation. His instincts told him to trust this man, but there was something in his words—something that made his gut twist with unease. 

"What do they want?" 

Ivan glanced over his shoulder, his face hardening. "They're after the Shards. You've heard of them, right? The things that allow us to jump, to live these... different lives. But they want more. They want control over all of us, to stop us from escaping." 

Ethan's heart skipped a beat. The Shards. That was what Caelum had mentioned—the artifact he had touched in his last life. Could it be that these "hunters" were after him because of that very thing? 

"I've been running from them for months," Ivan continued, his voice low. "They want the Shards, and they'll stop at nothing to get them." 

Before Ethan could respond, a loud crack echoed from the trees, followed by a chorus of barking dogs. 

Ivan's eyes widened in panic. "They're here." 

Ethan didn't need any further encouragement. He grabbed Ivan's arm and pulled him toward the cover of a nearby thicket. "We need to move, now." 

As they dashed through the woods, the sounds of pursuit grew louder. The dogs were close, their growls reverberating through the trees. 

"Who are these hunters?" Ethan asked, his breath coming in sharp gasps. 

"Genetic anomalies," Ivan replied, his voice tight with fear. "People who've been altered, made into machines. They can track us, hunt us, because they don't die like we do. We're expendable to them." 

Ethan's mind raced. These "hunters" sounded like something out of a nightmare. But the mention of the Shards rang in his ears. Was there a connection between them and the life he had been leading? Had the touch of the artifact awoken something in him that attracted these killers? 

---

They ran for what felt like hours, weaving through dense underbrush and thick trees. Just as Ethan thought they might lose the hunters, a sharp whistle split the air. 

"Down!" Ivan barked. 

Ethan dove to the ground just as a net shot overhead, entangling a group of trees. The dogs began to circle, their snarls growing louder. 

"This is where we part ways," Ivan said, pushing Ethan toward a narrow gap in the trees. "If you want to survive, you need to keep moving. They'll come after you if they know you have the Shard. Don't let them catch you." 

Ethan hesitated, but Ivan's expression was firm. 

With a quick nod, Ethan slipped through the gap, the heavy weight of his decision settling on his shoulders. He didn't know where he was going or what awaited him, but there was one thing he did know—he couldn't let the hunters catch him. 

---

The forest soon gave way to a clearing, and in the distance, Ethan spotted a cabin. The air was thick with the scent of pine, and the land felt eerily quiet. 

Ethan approached cautiously, his eyes darting around for any signs of danger. The door creaked as he pushed it open, revealing an interior that was simple but functional. A fire burned in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room. 

He took a deep breath and stepped inside, his heart pounding in his chest.