The moment twilight fell… the forest shifted.
It didn't move.
It folded.
One second they were all together, circling the van, planning their next move. The next?
Silence.
And darkness.
Not the kind you see — the kind you feel.Heavy. Wet. Swallowing sound and breath.
Alex blinked. "Wait—"
But the van was gone.
So were the others.
So was the path.
Deadpool & Hughie
Deadpool was already mid-sentence when the forest changed.
"—I mean, you can't call it DLC content if you're gonna—wait. Where the hell are we?"
Hughie spun around. "Where's Alex? Where's Butcher?"
The trees were black. Moving slightly. Breathing?
Deadpool squinted.
"Oh. Fantastic. It's that part of the horror game where you're too underleveled and too sarcastic to survive."
A sound behind them.
Slow.
Dragging.
And then?
The moan.
Not human. Not animal. Not alive.
A decaying face lunged from the brush — one eye missing, jaw loose, limbs jerking unnaturally.
"Is that a goddamn zombie?!" Hughie yelled.
Deadpool immediately drew both katanas. "Okay, nope. Absolutely not. You hear me, Author? I did cancer. I did time travel. I did Green Lantern's corpse in a crossover once. But THIS?!"
He slashed the zombie's head clean off.
Another one groaned behind them.
Then more.
Deadpool spun in place.
"This is it! I'm in The Walking Fanfic! Somebody queue dramatic music!"
Hughie just screamed and punched a zombie in the face.
Somewhere else-
Alex stumbled backward, heart racing. "Where are we?!"
Kimiko didn't answer — too busy slicing down a shadowy, dog-like creature that charged from the side, its limbs long and insect-like, its eyes glowing dull orange.
Alex's system flared, still glitchy, still weak.
[Trial Initiated: Fear. Endure.]
Another creature lunged.
Kimiko sliced it mid-air.
Alex blasted another with a flash of the Gauntlet's flickering power — just enough to survive, but not enough to feel safe.
"Okay," he panted. "Trial. Fine. Fear. Sure. Let's do that. Let's absolutely lose our minds for sport."
Kimiko raised an eyebrow at him like, Was that not already happening?
Butcher & Frenchie
Butcher stared forward, blade in hand, muscles tense.
Before them?
A dozen distorted, walking corpses — all wearing military uniforms. British.
Faces broken. Skulls cracked. Rifles in hand.
Frenchie whispered, "They look… wrong."
Butcher didn't blink.
He knew what this was.
His past.
His blood.
"They're dead," he muttered.
"They've been dead a long time."
But they marched anyway — toward him. Toward both of them.
And Butcher?
He didn't flinch.
He went forward.
Back to Deadpool
Deadpool and Hughie were standing atop a pile of twitching corpses.
Still breathing hard.
Hughie: "You good?"
Deadpool: "I just stabbed someone wearing Crocs. I don't think I'll ever be good again."
He turned to the trees again.
"HEY AUTHOR."
He pointed upward.
"ARE YOU SERIOUS?! ZOMBIES?! I FOUGHT CANCER IN A TUXEDO. YOU THINK THIS SCARES ME?! I AM THE IMMUNE SYSTEM!"
Hughie blinked. "What does that even mean?"
"I HAVE NO IDEA, BUT IT SOUNDED COOL!"
In a dozen shattered zones of the Hollow Forest… the trials continue.
Fear. Guilt. Pain.
They are being torn apart — mentally, emotionally, and physically.
And far, far away…
Noir Vale watches. Silent. Still.
Chains faintly glowing.
The sword in his chest pulsing.
Not with pain.
But with interest.