The town of Eldenbrook had always been quiet, but something sinister lingered in the air that autumn. People spoke of shadows in the woods—things moving just beyond sight. At night, whispers carried through the trees, though no one could find their source.

Finn, a curious boy of fifteen, had heard the stories his whole life: the tale of the unreal hero, a spectral figure who protected the town in its darkest moments. No one could agree on what he looked like. Some claimed he was made of mist, others said he moved without sound. All agreed on one thing—he wasn’t human.

One night, as the moon disappeared behind storm clouds, Finn's curiosity got the better of him. He left his home, sneaking past his sleeping family, clutching a dim lantern as he ventured into the woods. The air felt wrong, heavy with anticipation, as if something was watching him.

The deeper he went, the more the woods seemed to close in. Trees twisted in unnatural ways, and the wind whispered Finn's name, though he was sure no one was there. His heart pounded, his mind racing with every step. What if the stories were true?

A twig snapped behind him. Finn spun around, his lantern flickering. "Who's there?" he called, his voice barely above a whisper. Silence. Then, a rustle—closer this time. His hands trembled as the darkness seemed to thicken around him. The light from his lantern flickered, casting eerie shadows.

Out of the mist, a figure slowly emerged—translucent and still. The unreal hero. But this wasn’t the silent protector Finn had imagined. The hero’s pale, glowing eyes locked onto Finn, and for a moment, the boy felt an overwhelming sense of dread.

Suddenly, the woods came alive with movement. Dark, twisted creatures with glowing eyes slithered through the underbrush, creeping toward Finn. Panic surged through him, but before he could run, the unreal hero raised a ghostly hand. Without a sound, the creatures stopped. The hero moved swiftly, almost gliding through the air, and the shadows around them seemed to melt away.

Finn stood frozen in awe as the creatures dissolved into the mist, leaving him alone with the hero. The figure turned to him, eyes burning with a strange, cold light. Though no words were spoken, Finn felt a warning—he had come too close. The unreal hero wasn’t just a legend, but something far more dangerous, far more ancient.

Before Finn could react, the hero vanished, fading into the mist as quickly as he had appeared. Finn stumbled back, heart pounding, knowing he had barely escaped whatever lay in the depths of the woods. He fled home, the realization chilling him: the unreal hero was real, but he wasn’t a savior. He was something beyond understanding, a guardian who watched from the shadows, deciding who lived and who disappeared forever.

From that night on, Finn never spoke of what he saw, but he would never forget the feeling—the eerie, unsettling presence of the unreal hero who protected the town, not from kindness, but from something far darker that still lurked in the woods.

Weeks passed since Finn’s encounter with the unreal hero, but the memory haunted him like a shadow. He no longer ventured into the woods, and though he tried to go about his daily life, the unsettling presence of that night lingered. The town of Eldenbrook, unaware of Finn's brush with the mysterious figure, was as peaceful as ever. Or so it seemed.

But one night, whispers began to spread—people were going missing. At first, it was only travelers, those passing through the outskirts, close to the woods. Then it was Henry, the town's baker, who failed to show up for work one morning. Days later, Mara, a seamstress, vanished without a trace. No one knew where they had gone, and search parties returned with nothing but dread.

As fear gripped Eldenbrook, Finn couldn’t shake the feeling that it was connected to the unreal hero. He remembered the creatures he had seen—dark, slithering things hidden in the mist. Were they the ones taking people? Or worse, had the hero himself crossed the line from protector to predator?

One night, as Finn lay awake, a knock echoed through his house. He rushed to the door, only to find a figure standing there—a hunter from the village, pale and wide-eyed. “It’s happening again,” the man whispered, shaking. “People are disappearing... but this time, someone saw it.”

Finn’s heart raced. “Saw what?”

“The hero... He was there.”

The man’s words sent a chill down Finn’s spine. Could the unreal hero be behind the vanishings? Or was he fighting something even more terrifying? The fear and uncertainty gnawed at Finn’s mind, but deep down, he knew there was only one way to find out. He had to return to the woods.

The next evening, Finn, armed with nothing but his courage and a dim lantern, found himself standing once again at the edge of the cursed forest. The townsfolk, gripped by fear, had barricaded their doors, but Finn pressed on, drawn by a strange mix of fear and purpose.

As he ventured deeper, the forest seemed even darker than before. Every branch, every rustle, felt like a threat. And then, just ahead, he saw it: a flicker of pale blue light, the same eerie glow that had marked the unreal hero.

But something was wrong.

The hero stood at the edge of a clearing, his translucent form shimmering in the darkness. This time, he wasn’t alone. Behind him, more shadows writhed and moved, more than Finn had ever seen. And then Finn realized, with a cold, sinking feeling: the creatures weren’t avoiding the hero. They were following him.

Suddenly, a scream tore through the forest, sharp and desperate. Finn’s blood ran cold as a figure emerged from the woods—a woman, her eyes wide with terror. But before Finn could call out, the shadows moved. In an instant, they descended upon her, and she was gone—swallowed by the mist as if she had never existed.

The unreal hero turned, his glowing eyes fixing on Finn, and for a brief moment, Finn saw something new in those cold eyes—regret.

Before Finn could react, the hero lifted his hand, and the creatures receded into the darkness. Silence fell, but it was thick with tension. Finn stood frozen, caught between fear and confusion. What was the hero? Was he controlling the creatures, or merely holding them at bay? And why had he let them take the woman?

As the unreal hero began to fade into the mist once more, Finn knew he couldn’t turn back. Whatever was happening in the woods, whatever the hero was, it was far more complicated than he had imagined. If he didn’t uncover the truth, Eldenbrook—and everyone he cared about—could be next.

Without thinking, Finn took a step forward, deeper into the forest, following the vanishing hero into the unknown.

The game had changed. The unreal hero was no longer a legend. He was a key—and Finn had to find out what he was unlocking before it was too late.

Finn’s heart pounded as he ventured deeper into the woods, the shadows thickening around him. He had no idea what awaited him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something monumental was about to happen—something that would change everything he thought he knew about the unreal hero.

The air grew colder as Finn pressed on, the pale blue glow of the hero flickering just ahead. The shadows that had once followed the hero seemed to be retreating, giving way to an eerie, still silence. Finally, Finn found himself at the edge of a clearing, the unreal hero standing at its center, his form ghostly but more solid than before.

This time, the hero didn’t vanish. He turned to face Finn, his glowing eyes locking onto the boy’s. There was no menace in his gaze, but rather something deeper—something that caught Finn off guard.

For the first time, the hero moved toward him, his footsteps soundless on the forest floor. Finn’s pulse quickened, but he didn’t move. Despite the fear and uncertainty that gripped him, there was something strangely magnetic about the hero’s presence, something that made it impossible for Finn to look away.

The hero stopped just a few feet away, his ethereal form flickering softly. Finn could feel the chill radiating from him, yet there was a warmth in the hero’s eyes that Finn hadn’t noticed before.

“You... you saved me,” Finn whispered, his voice trembling.

The unreal hero didn’t respond, but something in his expression shifted. His gaze softened, as if acknowledging the truth of Finn’s words without needing to speak. For a long moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of the woods pressing in around them.

But then, to Finn’s surprise, the hero extended a hand toward him. Finn stared at it, unsure of what to do. The hand was translucent, almost not there at all, yet it shimmered with an otherworldly glow. Hesitating for only a moment, Finn reached out, his fingers brushing against the hero’s hand.

The contact sent a shock through Finn’s body—not painful, but electric, like touching the edge of something powerful. His breath caught in his throat as he realized the hero was not just a legend, not just a ghostly protector. He was real, tangible in a way Finn hadn’t expected.

The unreal hero’s touch lingered for a moment longer before he slowly pulled his hand away. The air between them buzzed with unspoken energy, and Finn felt an unfamiliar warmth rising in his chest. The fear that had gripped him for so long began to melt away, replaced by something far more confusing—an undeniable connection.

“I don’t understand,” Finn said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you helping me? What are you?”

The hero tilted his head slightly, as if considering how to respond. And then, for the first time, he spoke. His voice was soft, almost a whisper itself, but it resonated through Finn like the echo of a forgotten memory.

“I am bound to this place,” the hero said, his words carrying a weight of loneliness. “I protect what I must, but I am no savior, Finn.”

The sound of his own name from the hero’s lips sent a jolt through Finn. How did he know it? But before he could ask, the hero continued.

“There are forces here you cannot yet understand,” he said, his glowing eyes never leaving Finn’s. “Forces that even I struggle to contain. But you—” The hero paused, his gaze growing more intense. “You are different. You can see me.”

Finn felt his breath hitch. No one else had ever seen the unreal hero, not like this. He had been a legend, a myth, but Finn was standing here, face to face with him. The weight of that realization hit Finn all at once, and he struggled to find words.

“Why me?” he managed to ask, his voice trembling with the gravity of the moment.

The hero’s eyes softened once again, and for a brief moment, Finn thought he saw something deeply human in those ethereal features—something vulnerable. “I don’t know,” the hero replied quietly. “But I am drawn to you, as you are to me.”

Finn’s heart raced, the connection between them growing stronger with every word. He could feel it—something unexplainable that tethered them together, something neither of them fully understood but couldn’t deny.

As the wind stirred the trees around them, the hero stepped closer, his presence both overwhelming and comforting. Finn didn’t know what was happening between them, but he could sense that this was only the beginning. The unreal hero wasn’t just a figure in the shadows anymore—he was something more, someone who was becoming a part of Finn’s life in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

“I’ll help you,” Finn whispered, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “Whatever this is, I’ll help you.”

The hero’s eyes glowed softly, his expression unreadable yet filled with something almost like hope. He nodded once, the faintest smile ghosting across his face before he began to fade, his form dissolving into the mist once more.

But this time, Finn knew it wouldn’t be the last he saw of the unreal hero. Their fates were intertwined now, bound by a force neither of them fully understood. And as Finn stood alone in the clearing, his heart still racing, he realized something else—this wasn’t just about saving Eldenbrook.

This was about something far more personal.

A connection was growing between him and the unreal hero—one that would challenge everything he thought he knew about love, trust, and the boundaries of the human heart.