Through Water and Ruin

The frog watched as the young man carefully moved along the side of the tree, weaving his way through the middle of the house, trying not to cause any damage.

As he maneuvered around the massive trunk, he realized that this building was nothing like the house he had woken up in. Unlike the small, private home he had been in before, this one had large double doors, as if designed to welcome multiple people. It felt more like a gathering hall than a personal residence.

He focused on his footing, determined not to let any water seep into his boots. The thought of damp feet and that disgusting, clammy feeling made him shudder. Careful now, just take it easy, he muttered to himself, eyeing the stagnant water below, littered with rotting wood and crawling with small crickets.

After carefully navigating along the side of the building—since the tree stood firmly in its center—he finally found solid ground where he could move more freely.

"Gasp—!" He took in deep, desperate breaths, relief washing over him now that he was free from the tree's obstruction.

"Shit… that wore me out," he groaned. "If I had stayed there a few seconds longer, I would've passed out."

He took a final deep breath, gathering himself. The tree's trunk had to be at least nine meters thick, and the building itself stretched around fifteen meters in length.

Then, as his mind cleared, a thought hit him.

"Wait… where's that frog I was following?"

Carefully stepping forward, he avoided the exposed roots and the water plants floating in the murky puddles, making sure he didn't get tangled or stuck. After a few more steps on the damp floor, he spotted the frog.

It sat motionless on one of the thick, exposed roots. The young man, exhausted and running on his last bit of strength, sighed and spoke to it.

"So… I'm here. Now what? You know, I'm just about out of energy from getting this far." He gasped for air, wiping sweat from his brow. "Can I have more of that V-shaped fruit, please?"

The frog stared at him for a moment, seemingly listening, before suddenly hopping toward a pile of rubble. It began pushing aside rotting wood and loose bricks with surprising effort.

Seeing this, the young man quickly grabbed the frog and placed it back on the root where it had been sitting just a second ago. His brow furrowed. Is there something here that can help me?

Determined, he started clearing the debris himself, pushing aside the wood and bricks. As they tumbled into the water, they splashed onto his clothes, soaking him further. He cursed under his breath but didn't stop, even as water seeped into his boots.

By the time he cleared enough of the rubble, his arms were sore, his muscles burning from exhaustion. He could barely summon the strength to move anymore. But beneath the debris, something caught his eye.

A chest.

Its surface was rough and worn, eroded by time and dampness. It looked like it had been sitting there for decades, forgotten. He leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued, trying to make out any details.

Before he could get a good look, the frog suddenly let out a croak, interrupting him. He hesitated, glancing at it, but his curiosity won out.

Slowly, he reached for the chest and pulled it open.

The moment the lid cracked open, a swarm of spiders burst out, skittering over his hands and arms. His breath caught in his throat as he flinched backward, losing his balance.

With a loud splash, he fell into the water. Cold and filthy, it soaked him from head to toe. He sat there for a moment, dripping wet, sighing in frustration.

Pushing himself up, he turned his attention back to the chest. The spiders had scurried away, vanishing into the darkness of the ruins.

Now that it was empty, he could finally see inside.

***

Opening the chest, he spotted multiple items that seemed out of place. Among them was a necklace with an amber-like crystal. There were also:

A fruit knife

Two pairs of clothes and pants

Five underpants

Two clean white cloths

Multiple empty jars

Paper and a pen

A handbag

A strange-looking rock

A red book

A green book

A purple book

His eyes widened at the sight of the necklace. Something about it felt oddly familiar. Without hesitation, he picked it up and placed it around his neck. The moment it settled against his chest, the crystal began to glow, casting a warm light similar to that of a candle. The once-dark room was now illuminated.

"Finally, I can see… I could barely make out anything in here before," he muttered, glancing around the dimly lit space.

As he took in his surroundings, his eyes landed on a faded banner, its design depicting people gathered around a fire in celebration. He squinted, trying to make out more details, but before he could get a closer look, a sudden croak startled him.

His heart skipped a beat as he turned to see the frog. It held a small, blade-like rock in its mouth. Blinking in surprise, he marveled at the creature's unusual intelligence. Then, as if it had been waiting for this moment, the frog spat out another V-shaped fruit beside him.

Recognizing it as the same fruit that had restored his strength earlier, he reached for it, intending to eat it again. But just as he brought it close to his lips, a transparent sphere formed in his hand, stopping him from taking a bite.

The frog let out a disappointed croak. Then, stretching out its hand, it pressed the back of it against the ground.

This time, he didn't hesitate. He mimicked the frog's gesture, pressing his own hand to the damp floor.

"Now what?" he muttered, watching the frog intently.

So far, the frog had been guiding him, showing him strange and mysterious things—things that defied logic. But up until now, it had always acted on its own. This time, he was directly involved.

Before he could question it further, the frog suddenly leaped above his head.

Its tongue shot out, slapping against his forehead.

"Ugh—!" He recoiled, disgusted by the sensation.

But before he could wipe it away, the V-shaped fruit and the strange rock in the frog's grasp began to fuse together, glowing with an unnatural light, before moving toward his hand.

His right hand, still wet from the frog's saliva, suddenly grew hot. A sharp, burning sensation spread through his palm. His breath caught in his throat.

Something was happening.

Something beyond his understanding.

The light grew larger, intensifying until it felt like a knife stabbing into his skin.

"Aghhh!" He screamed in pain, trying to move his hand away from the frog. But the frog croaked again, and suddenly, his hand felt heavier than before—completely immobile. He couldn't pull away.

The unbearable pain lasted for ten agonizing minutes, burning through his palm before spreading to his chest. His legs gave out, and he collapsed into the water again, struggling to remain conscious.

Finally, after more than half an hour of pure torment, the sensation stopped.

Breathing heavily, he pushed himself up from the ground. His body ached, exhaustion weighing down on him.

He clenched his fist, anger flaring inside him. He wanted to confront the frog for what it had just put him through.

Raising his fist above his head, ready to strike—

He stopped.

His eyes locked onto something unexpected.

A tattoo.

A strange marking had appeared on his hand, glowing faintly in the dim light.

A long silence filled the space before he finally spoke.

"What… is this?"