The rainforest lay at Mysonna's eastern edge, the second-largest tropical rainforest in the world—also known as the "Death Rainforest." Continuous undulations spanned thousands of miles across its rarely visited expanse, shrouding it in perpetual darkness and mystery.
To this day, the Mysonna government hadn't developed this resource-rich area due to its extreme danger. Early exploration attempts consistently failed, forcing the government to abandon further efforts.
Yvette, Emmett, Chris, Bruce, and Frankie set out from Regal Tower, arriving at the rainforest's entrance after seven grueling hours. The entrance resembled the fearsome jaws of a beast, an eerie and frightening sight.
They checked their equipment, a brief, unspoken discomfort passing between them at the sight of Frankie's two conspicuous boxes of self-heating steak. Strength, they knew, was the best response to doubt.
Yvette, clad in Emmett's specially prepared waterproof and scratch-resistant gear, stared at the distant entrance, a chill in her eyes. This was familiar territory; a return after seven years. She wondered if the rainforest's great beasts still lived. Doubtless, she thought, they had not perished.
The other four wore similar attire. The rainforest's perils demanded thorough preparation. Except for Frankie, relatively inexperienced, Emmett, Chris, and Bruce, though lacking direct rainforest experience, had faced numerous dangerous situations. They all understood the mission's inherent risk—the possibility of never returning.
Emmett approached Yvette, sighing. He still questioned the wisdom of her participation, even considering her mastery of ancient combat arts. "Ms. Zeller," he said, "we've checked all the equipment. We have the latest weaponry, ample firepower, and verified medications. We're ready."
As they spoke, Chris and the others joined them. Yvette tilted her head, a raised eyebrow and blank expression conveying her assessment of the group. Her brown eyes, filled with a chilling intensity, met theirs. "Before we enter," she stated coldly, "I must make this clear: you will follow my orders without question. Failure to comply means we part ways here. You find your own, I'll find mine, and we'll not interfere. Consider this carefully." Her intimate knowledge of the rainforest's dangers demanded absolute obedience.
Frankie, acutely aware of his comparative limitations, readily agreed. Yvette's superior combat skills made her leadership logical. "No problem," he stated. "I'll follow your orders."
Bruce, his lips pursed in a serious expression, remained silent, questioning the extent of Yvette's authority and the implications of absolute obedience.
Chris, however, readily accepted Yvette’s leadership, owing a life debt to Mr. Chavez, and willing to accept any consequence of his chosen woman's decisions.
Emmett and Chris's nods left only Bruce. A wry smile played on his lips as he conceded. "No problem," he said, the argument pointless; he would face whatever came with them.
At midday, Yvette led them into the rainforest, following an established trail. Soon, the entrance vanished behind them, towering trees blotting out the sun and sky.
A chilling aura enveloped them. Despite the midday sun, a creepy atmosphere prevailed. The landscape was a tangled mass of trees and vines, interspersed with unusually colorful flowers. The ground, carpeted with decaying leaves, emitted a musty smell, a dark aroma mingling with the scent of earth, growing stronger with their deeper penetration.
Yvette led the way, her expression unyielding, the others trailing close behind. Two hours passed without sight of wolves, tigers, or any large predators, a strange and unsettling absence.
The dense undergrowth grew wetter, the vibrant flowers more intense in color. Yvette moved swiftly, forcing the others to keep pace; any hesitation risked being left behind.
The cold aura intensified. We're almost there, she thought, we must reach it before nightfall.
After two hours of relentless travel, Yvette halted, signaling a rest. They found a small clearing, sparsely dotted with low bushes, providing ample visibility and making it an ideal resting spot.
Frankie collapsed, breathing heavily. Three hours of continuous running was far beyond his usual exertion. Bruce, abandoning his usual composure, unfurled a waterproof mat, sinking beside Frankie. Even Emmett and Chris, seasoned ancient combat artists, were physically strained.
At Yvette's signal, they all sat, breathing irregularly, faces pale. Only Yvette remained standing, her gaze downcast, her brow furrowed, her appearance immaculate amidst their disheveled state. She breathed evenly, her complexion unmarred.
"An hour's rest," she commanded. "Then we continue."
Emmett, Bruce, and Chris exchanged glances. Yvette’s unwavering progress, her apparent familiarity with the terrain—even without using their compass—raised questions about her past connection to this place. Four hours had passed without incident, suggesting a preternatural awareness of the rainforest's dangers.
Frankie, oblivious to their unspoken speculation, produced energy bars and water. "Why the silence?" he asked, breaking the tension. "This jungle's depressing enough. Let's chat."