The Goal Remains The Same

The forest was unnervingly quiet, its towering trees casting long shadows under the pale light of the moon that hung low in the sky.

Beneath one of these trees lay a figure sprawled on the ground, motionless save for the faint rise and fall of his chest. Blood pooled beneath him, dark and viscous, though no visible injuries could be seen on his body. 

Then, without warning, the figure's eyes snapped open, and he gasped for air as though surfacing from a deep, dark abyss. "Gah!"

His silver hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat, as his chest heaved with labored breaths. It took him a few moments to register his surroundings, but when he did, a faint smile tugged at his lips. 

"I survived," Damien whispered, his voice hoarse but tinged with relief. "I really survived!" He repeated with a small smile.