The canopy of the sss was so thick it felt like walking through the lungs of a giant. The heat was a physical weight, a wet blanket that smelled of rot, damp earth, and ancient, suffocating growth. Every step through the undergrowth was a battle against ferns that felt like serrated steel, their edges catching on tactical gear and drawing thin lines of blood across exposed skin. Alessandro led the way, his machete rhythmically clearing a path through the dense green wall, but the jungle seemed to breathe behind them. The vines curled back into place, and the broad leaves settled into their original positions before the echoes of his blade had even faded from the air. It was as if the forest was healing itself in real-time, refusing to acknowledge their intrusion.
Seraphina followed in a d
