ITB Chapter 11 Happy Tree Friend

The blinding white light faded.

For a few long seconds, none of them could see. The sensation of weightlessness passed, replaced by the solid crunch of dirt and grass beneath their shoes. Slowly, the light dimmed, and their vision returned.

Issei blinked several times, his eyes adjusting to the sudden shift in color and space. “Wait… are we finally outside.”

The yellow walls and humming lights were gone. In their place stood towering trees with wide trunks and sprawling roots, their bark a deep shade of grayish brown. The air smelled faintly of pine and wet earth.

They were standing in a forest. At least, it looked like one.

Weiss turned in a slow circle, her white hair glinting faintly in the strange light that filtered down through the canopy. Everything appeared still—too still. The leaves didn’t rustle. The grass didn’t sway.

Yuuka crouched down and pressed her hand against the soil. It was soft, cool, and slightly damp. Real, or at least it felt that way. “This… this looks like an actual forest. Do you think we’re finally out?”

Issei turned to answer, but Weiss spoke first, her voice sharp and uneasy. “No.”

Everyone looked at her.

She pointed upward. “Look at the sky.”

They all followed her gaze.

The clouds hung motionless, painted across the heavens like smudges on glass. Their color wasn’t quite right either, and they appeared to be too uniformed, tinged faintly with a sickly blue glow. There was no sun, no wind, no sound of birds or insects. The silence pressed down on them like a weight.

Yuuka frowned, her expression twisting with unease. “It’s…looks fake. Like a painted ceiling.”

Weiss nodded grimly. “Exactly. This isn’t the outside world. It’s just another part of the maze. A simulation of the outside.”

They all turned at the same time when Issei muttered, “Wait… the door.”

Behind them, attached to the massive trunk of a tree, was the same wooden door they had just come through. It looked comically out of place—embedded into the bark, its brass handle gleaming faintly in the dim light.

The forest stretched endlessly around them, but that single door was their only connection to what they’d left behind.

Yuuka hesitated, glancing between the others. “Should we… go back?”

Weiss’s lips pressed into a thin line. She didn’t answer right away. Her instincts told her something about this place felt wrong. Too clean. Too quiet. Too controlled. But then so did the rest of the world they were in as everything screamed dangerous.

Before she could decide, Azula’s voice cut through the stillness, calm but impatient. “No. We move forward.”

Everyone turned to her. The Fire Nation princess stood tall, her amber eyes reflecting the eerie stillness of the forest. “If this place is just another trap, then turning back won’t save us. We might as well see where it leads.”

Weiss frowned, ready to argue, but Issei beat her to it.

He scratched his head and sighed. “Honestly? I agree with her.”

Weiss gave him a sharp look. “What?”

“I mean,” Issei said, gesturing vaguely around them, “we’ve been stuck in the same yellow maze for who knows how long. If this place is different, maybe it’s an exit—or at least not as boring.”

Azula smirked faintly. “As expected, at least one of you is capable of reason.”

Weiss rolled her eyes but didn’t argue further. “Fine. But we stay together. No wandering off. We don’t know what’s in this… forest.”

Yuuka nodded quickly, clutching her pipe close. “Yeah, I really don’t want to find out the hard way.”

“Alright then,” Issei said, his tone more serious now. “Let’s move.”

The group started walking, their footsteps muffled against the mossy ground.

—----------------------------------

Chaldea

In the grand halls of the massive building of the Chaldea Security Organization was burned.

Smoke poured through shattered corridors, thick and black, curling up toward the ceiling where once-pristine white panels now hung loose and melting. The air stank of ozone, fire, and blood. The cries of wounded staff echoed faintly through the ruin, soon drowned out by another violent explosion that shook the entire facility.

Somewhere near the central command chamber, the marble floor split apart. A deafening crash followed as debris rained down, and from beneath it all came a faint voice struggling, and in pain.

Mash Kyrielight tried to move, but she couldn’t. Her body was pinned beneath a massive slab of collapsed stone with her limbs unresponsive. She tried to push up again, but her arms wouldn’t obey. A sharp pain lanced through her ribs, forcing a weak gasp from her lips. Her vision blurred, the edges of her sight flickering red and black.

“Is this… the end?” She whispered, her voice trembling as the heat from nearby fires licked at her cheeks.

She could hear other explosions in the distance, the sound of people dying. The cries of her fellow staff each one fading beneath the roar of collapsing structures and flames.

Tears slipped from her eyes, sizzling against her cheek as ash settled on her skin. “I… couldn’t… protect them…” She murmured. “I’m sorry.”

Her breathing slowed. The light from the flames painted her pale skin in shades of orange and red. The sound of crackling fire became a lullaby, fading in and out as her consciousness slipped away.

For a fleeting moment, she closed her eyes and prayed, not for herself, but for a better future. A world where humanity would be safe, even if she wouldn’t be there to see it.

Then came the silence.

No more explosions. No more pain. No heat, no smoke—just… stillness.

When Mash finally opened her eyes again, the world had changed.

Gone was the fire, the ash, the sound of destruction. The floor beneath her was no longer cracked marble, but damp carpet—soft, uneven, and strangely cold against her palms. The air was still, stale, thick with the scent of mildew instead of smoke.

Mash blinked, confusion clouding her lavender eyes as she pushed herself up, finding her body whole again—uninjured, her Chaldea uniform was now black armor, the ache in her limbs gone. “…What…?”

She slowly stood, her boots sinking slightly into the spongy floor. The sound of buzzing filled the air—not the hum of Chaldea’s machines, but the dull, mechanical drone of fluorescent lights.

The hallway stretched on in both directions, covered in the same peeling yellow wallpaper. It twisted and turned endlessly, with no doors, no windows, no sky—just an infinite maze of repeating geometry.

Mash swallowed hard, her heart pounding. “Is this… the Singularity?”

No response. No sound but the lights.

She then turned around and noticed a massive shield behind her. She didn’t understand where this came from but something about it was calling out to her to take it.

Her fingers brushed against the smooth edge the shield strapped to her arm, a small comfort in this strange place. She turned slowly, scanning every corner, every shadow, her instincts kicking in.

“Hello?” She called softly, her voice echoing down the corridor, swallowed quickly by the emptiness. “Is anyone here?”

Only the faint buzz of the lights answered her.

Her steps echoed quietly as she began to move forward, each one measured and cautious. Despite her newfound strength, she couldn’t shake the unease twisting in her stomach.

She had survived the destruction of Chaldea. But whatever this place was, it didn't feel like salvation.

—----------------------------------

At first, the forest seemed peaceful. The light filtering through the canopy stayed consistent, neither bright nor dim. The air didn’t move, not even slightly. Each tree they passed looked almost identical to the last, their branches stretching out like arms frozen in mid-motion.

After several minutes, Issei noticed something odd. He turned his head slightly and squinted. “Weiss… didn’t we already pass that tree?”

Weiss glanced around, studying the surroundings. Her eyes narrowed. “Yes. I recognize that notch in the bark.”

Yuuka’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Have we been walking in circles?”

Azula clicked her tongue, annoyed. “Impossible. We’ve been walking in a straight line.”

Weiss shook her head. “Then the forest is moving around us—or we’re being redirected somehow.”

Issei frowned, rubbing his temples. “Great. So even the forest version of this place is trying to mess with us.”

The silence pressed in again. Not even their own echoes responded.

Yuuka suddenly shivered, her grip on the pipe tightening. “Guys… is it just me, or are the trees… closer than before?”

The others looked up.

The trunks, once several feet apart, now seemed to crowd together, their branches intertwining above them like skeletal hands closing in.

Weiss’s breath hitched. “Stay alert.”

Issei instinctively summoned the Boosted Gear, its red glow flaring faintly in the still air. “Great. So much for the peaceful stroll.”

Azula raised her hand, a faint spark of blue flame flickering to life on her fingertips. “Hopefully this forest burns like the rest.”

But when she released the flame, it flickered for a heartbeat—then vanished, snuffed out by nothing. The air didn’t move, but the fire was gone.

Weiss’s eyes widened. “Azula, your fire—”

“I know,” Azula hissed, glaring at her own hand. “It’s like something’s suppressing it.”

Issei clenched his gauntleted fist, the green gem pulsing faintly. “Then something in this place is watching us.”

The forest remained still. Silent. Unyielding. And somewhere deep within, something shifted. Before any of them could decide what to do, a voice drifted through the still air.

“Ah… my apologies for the scare, young ones.”

All four of them froze.

The voice was calm, smooth, almost polite, but it carried through the forest in every direction at once. It wasn’t loud, yet it filled the air around them, echoing from the trees, the ground, even the unmoving clouds above.

“I didn’t mean to make you walk in circles,” It continued with an almost sheepish tone. “I just noticed that I finally had visitors. It’s been… well, far too long. I didn’t want you to leave so soon.”

Issei immediately turned in a slow circle, scanning the forest. “Uh… guys? Please tell me I’m not the only one hearing this.”

“We hear it,” Weiss said sharply, her eyes darting between the identical trees. “But where is it coming from?”

Every trunk looked the same, tall, ancient, and perfectly still. Not a branch moved. Not even the faintest tremor in the air suggested a source.

The voice spoke again, its tone light and conversational, like someone making small talk at a dinner table. “You can stop spinning, young man. This is just my voice.”

Yuuka’s eyes widened, and she instinctively stepped closer to Issei. “The trees are talking!?”

Azula raised an unimpressed brow. “Wonderful. Now the shrubbery has a personality.”

The voice let out a low, amused chuckle that rippled through the forest like a breeze that didn’t exist. “Oh, I do appreciate sarcasm. It’s been quite some time since anyone here had a sense of humor.”

Weiss clenched her rapier, her stance guarded. “You said you didn’t want us to leave,” she said cautiously. “Why? And how do we know you’re not going to hurt us?”

“Oh, that’s simple,” The voice replied pleasantly. “You don’t.”

The group stiffened.

There was a brief pause, and then the voice continued with an almost playful tone, “But you’ll just have to take that risk, won’t you? After all… it’s not as though you have anywhere else to go.”

Issei frowned, lowering his stance but keeping his guard up. “He’s not wrong about that,” he muttered.

Weiss shot him a look. “You’re seriously considering listening to a disembodied voice in a fake forest?”

“Well, unless you’ve got a better plan,” Issei said with a nervous grin, “I say we at least see who we’re talking to. Beats wandering in circles forever.”

Azula folded her arms, her gaze fixed forward. “He controls this place. If he wanted to harm us, he already could have.”

Yuuka didn’t look convinced, gripping her weapon tightly. “That’s… not exactly comforting.”

The voice chuckled again, low and soft. “You see? The fire princess understands. I’m not your enemy… not unless you make me one. Now then—if you’d like to see me, you’ll need to walk that way.”

As he spoke, one of the distant trees shimmered faintly, a soft golden glow tracing its bark like veins of light.

“Go on,” The voice said. “I promise I won’t bite.”

Weiss exhaled sharply through her nose, keeping her weapon raised. “I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I,” Yuuka admitted.

Issei looked at the glowing tree, then back at the others. “Well… whoever this guy is, he’s got us stuck here. Might as well play along before he decides to make the trees attack us or something.”

Weiss sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You have an uncanny ability to make the worst suggestions sound reasonable.”

Azula smirked faintly. “I agree with Issei. Let’s move.”

Weiss shot her a glare but said nothing, finally relenting. “Fine. But everyone stays close.”

Cautiously, the group began walking toward the glowing tree. Their footsteps echoed softly against the still earth, the forest watching in silence.

—-----------------------------------

The endless hum of fluorescent lights droned above them like a never-ending whisper.

Guts, Nezuko, and Sakura had been walking for what felt like hours, though time had long since lost meaning here. Every corridor looked the same, the same peeling yellow wallpaper, the same damp carpet squishing underfoot, the same faint smell of mold clinging to the air.

Still, despite the monotony, there was something different about this stretch of their journey.

Sakura’s voice echoed softly through the corridor as she walked beside Nezuko. “He-llo. Come on, try it with me. He-llo.”

Nezuko blinked up at her, pink eyes bright with curiosity. She tilted her head, watching Sakura’s mouth closely as the girl repeated the word again and again, patiently exaggerating each syllable.

From behind them, the heavy steps of Guts echoed like a steady drumbeat. He walked with his usual vigilance, Dragonslayer resting on his back, his single eye scanning each corner they passed. For the most part, he remained silent until the repetition started to get to him.

Finally, he grunted. “What the hell are you doing?”

Sakura flinched, spinning around to face him. “Eh!? You scared me!”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been saying the same word for the past five minutes. Thought you’d gone nuts.”

Sakura puffed her cheeks, glaring lightly at him. “I’m teaching her how to talk!”

Guts’s gaze shifted to Nezuko, who blinked innocently up at him, still clutching her hands together like a shy child caught in the middle of her parents’ argument.

“Talk, huh?” He said after a moment, scratching the back of his neck. “She listens fine. Understands well enough too. Don’t think she’s the talkative type.”

Sakura frowned. “You can’t know that for sure unless you actually try talking to her. Did you even try to start a conversation with her?”

Guts’s expression didn’t change. He stared at her for a long moment, then simply turned away with a grunt, resuming his pace down the hallway.

Sakura let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of her head. “...So that’s a no.”

Nezuko tilted her head at the exchange, her eyes darting between the two before returning to Sakura. She watched as Sakura smiled again and resumed her small lesson.

“Okay, let’s try again, alright? Hello. Heeelllooo.”

Nezuko blinked once. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she opened her mouth slightly.

“...Saaahh…” The sound came out hoarse and airy, like a breath rather than a word.

Sakura’s eyes widened, but instead of discouragement, a bright grin spread across her face. “That’s it! That’s progress! Okay, again, just like that! You can do it!”

Nezuko blinked in surprise at the encouragement, then nodded, determination shining faintly in her pink eyes. She took another deep breath and tried again. “...Hehh…”

“Almost there!” Sakura said excitedly, her voice echoing down the corridor. “One more time!”

Nezuko’s brows furrowed, her lips moving carefully as she mimicked Sakura’s mouth shape. “...Hel…lo…” The sound was soft, shaky but unmistakable.

Sakura gasped, her hands shooting up in pure joy. “You did it!”

Nezuko blinked again, her expression unsure, before Sakura suddenly pulled her into a hug. “You actually did it! You said hello!”

The demon girl stiffened for a moment, then slowly relaxed, her small hands hovering awkwardly before lightly patting Sakura’s back.

From behind them, Guts stopped walking. He turned his head slightly, his single eye softening just a fraction as he watched the strange scene — an undead idol girl and a demon sharing a moment of triumph in the middle of a rotting yellow maze.

Sakura looked up from the hug and noticed him watching. “See? She can talk! Sort of!”

Guts grunted. “Hmph. Guess she can.”

Sakura smiled proudly, hands on her hips. “Told you! You should never give up on people.”

Guts’s gaze lingered on Nezuko for a second longer, then he turned forward again. “Don’t get too excited. One word doesn’t mean she’s gonna start giving speeches.”

“Maybe not,” Sakura replied cheerfully, walking beside Nezuko again, “but it’s a start!”

Nezuko looked at her, tilting her head, and then to everyone’s surprise, she tried again, the faintest smile tugging at her lips.

“...Hello…” This time, her voice was clearer, softer, almost musical in its simplicity.

Sakura clasped her hands together. “Perfect!”

Even Guts couldn’t help but smirk. “Heh. Guess I was wrong.”

Nezuko’s eyes brightened, and for a fleeting moment, the endless monotony of the Backrooms felt just a little less oppressive.

The three of them continued walking, their footsteps echoing alongside a quiet, content hum from Nezuko.

—-----------------------------------

The journey through the strange, artificial forest grew more difficult the farther they went.

At first, the ground had been soft and clear, but now the roots themselves seemed to resist their movement. Thick, gnarled tendrils rose from the earth like serpents, curling around their ankles as if trying to trip them. Branches hung low, their leaves brushing against their faces. Even the faint golden glow that had guided them began to flicker, pulsing faintly as though the forest were breathing around them.

“Watch your step,” Weiss said sharply, using her rapier to cut through a low-hanging vine. “It’s like this place is deliberately slowing us down.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Azula muttered, brushing stray leaves from her hair. “Whoever this voice is, he clearly has control over the forest, do you think it’s him?”

Yuuka groaned as another root snagged her boot. “If this is how he says hello, I’d hate to see what a bad day looks like.”

Issei gave a half-hearted laugh, pulling her free. “Yeah, talk about a bad first impression.”

The group pressed on, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpet of moss beneath them. The air continued to be still, no sound of birds, no rustling wind, just their own breathing and the faint hum of unseen energy.

“Okay,” Issei muttered, ducking under a low branch that nearly smacked him in the face, “I’m starting to think this guy’s idea of hospitality needs work.”

Yuuka grunted as she tugged her boot free from a tangle of roots. “Yeah, this place is like a jungle gym from hell!”

Weiss brushed some dirt from her pants with a scowl. “Keep your focus. We have no idea what kind of being we’re dealing with.”

Azula, ever composed, looked around with narrowed eyes. “He said he wouldn’t bite. Let’s hope that wasn’t a metaphor.”

Then, as they stepped past another wall of towering roots, they entered a clearing.

At its center stood a tree unlike any they had ever seen.

It was massive—its trunk wider than a house, its bark layered and cracked like ancient stone. Vines wrapped around it in intricate spirals, pulsing faintly with veins of golden light. The canopy stretched so high it vanished into the frozen clouds above, its leaves like vast green shields that shimmered with an unnatural hue.

All four of them stopped, speechless.

“…That’s… big,” Yuuka whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Big?” Issei said, gaping upward. “That thing’s huge! It’s like… like the legend of the World Tree huge!”

Before Weiss could reply, the ground trembled.

“W-what was that!?” Yuuka yelped, stumbling back as the tree before them began to move.

Roots pulled free from the earth, dragging clumps of soil with them. The massive trunk bent slightly forward, its bark cracking and grinding as if bones and sinew lay beneath it. The branches swayed like arms stretching after a long slumber.

“Wait, wait, wait—trees aren’t supposed to move!” Issei shouted, eyes wide.

Weiss drew her rapier, taking a defensive stance. “It’s possessed! A Geist must have taken control of it!”

Azula, however, frowned in curiosity rather than fear. “Maybe it’s a spirit.”

The moss rippled under their feet as a deep, groaning sound echoed through the forest—a low rumble like mountains grinding together. The great tree shuddered, and its massive roots began to shift. Dust and leaves fell from its branches as the trunk itself moved.

Issei’s mouth fell open. “You’ve got to be kidding me…”

They all froze as the colossal being slowly straightened, towering over them. The light running through its bark brightened, illuminating deep grooves that formed a vague pattern—one that, as it shifted, began to resemble a face.

Two hollows opened where eyes should have been, glowing softly with a pale gold light. A mouth, etched deep into the bark, curved into what could only be described as a kind smile.

Then, the great tree spoke.

“Hello, children.”

The group froze.

Issei’s jaw dropped. “Wha—... the tree’s talking?”

Yuuka grabbed his sleeve and pointed with her free hand. “No kidding! The tree’s talking, Issei!”

Weiss remained tense but couldn’t hide her awe. The creature’s presence wasn’t hostile — merely overwhelming. “Impossible…” she murmured. “A sentient tree? But those exist only in myth.”

Azula, ever the composed one, took a step forward, her voice steady. “Are you the one who brought us here?”

The great tree’s wooden lips curved slightly, forming what could almost be described as a smile. “Indeed I am. It has been… so long since I’ve seen new faces. Centuries, perhaps. The passage of time means little here.”

Issei blinked, his brain trying to process that the massive tree was talking like an old man greeting neighbors. “Uh… right. Well, uh—hello to you too, Mr. Tree?”

The golden eyes twinkled with mirth. “Heh… polite and confused. A charming combination.”

Weiss, regaining her composure, stepped forward beside Azula. “Who—what are you, exactly?”

The ancient tree rumbled softly, as though chuckling deep within its trunk. “Ah, now that’s a proper question.”

He straightened slightly, bark shifting and roots curling as his immense presence seemed to fill the forest around them. “I am one of the old ones, what you humans would call an Ent. A shepherd of the woods, a guardian of life.”

The air trembled faintly as his voice deepened, carrying a weight that felt older than the world itself. “My name,” he said with pride and kindness, “is Malus.” The name seemed to echo through the forest like a whisper, bouncing off every unmoving tree until it faded back into silence.

For a moment, none of them spoke. Even Weiss, who usually had a quick rebuttal for everything, found herself staring, her mind spinning to make sense of it all.

Issei rubbed the back of his neck, trying to smile despite his awe. “Okay… so… giant talking forest god named Malus. Got it. That’s… new.”

Yuuka nodded numbly. “Yeah. I’m just gonna say it, this is officially the weirdest day of my life.”

Azula, however, was very intrigued as she wondered if these creatures exist in her world, considering the Spirits that roam her world. “An Ent.”

“Now then,” He said softly, voice like rolling thunder through the trees, “tell me, little ones, what brings you to my forest?”

As they contemplated Malus’s question, Weiss and Azula stood side by side, their expressions mirroring one another, cautious and skeptical.

Weiss crossed her arms, her tone sharp. “And what exactly makes you think we should tell you anything?”

Azula gave a faint, amused smirk. “Yes, I’ve had my fair share of smooth-talking politicians and schemers. Forgive me if I don’t pour out my life story to a tree.”

Malus chuckled softly, the sound like a creaking forest caught in a gentle breeze. “Ah, caution… a sensible trait. Especially in a place like this.”

Before Weiss could reply, Issei scratched his cheek nervously. “Come on, guys. I mean, look at him, he’s not exactly going anywhere. And if he really is as old as he says, maybe he knows something we don’t.”

Yuuka nodded slowly. “He might’ve seen things. Even if he doesn’t have all the answers, it’s worth asking.”

Weiss sighed, tapping her heel against the mossy ground. “Fine. But if he tries anything…”

“I’ll roast him,” Azula finished smoothly, a flicker of blue flame sparking briefly at her fingertips before fading as if it was shut off.

Malus’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “You mortals and your fire. Always threatening to burn what you don’t understand.”

Issei cleared his throat. “Alright then… where do I even start?”

Issei told Malus everything or as much as he understood. The endless yellow halls, the decaying carpets, the monsters that hunted in the dark. The Grimm, the monsters, and the shifting rooms that defied logic and sanity.

As Issei spoke, Yuuka added details here and there, her voice trembling slightly when recalling how close they’d come to death more than once. Weiss and Azula, though skeptical at first, eventually joined in, describing their encounters, their confusion, and the door that had led them here.

Through it all, Malus listened patiently. The light in his eyes dimmed and brightened softly, as though he were breathing in rhythm with their words.

When they finally finished, Weiss was the one to step forward. “You said you’ve been here a long time. Do you know anything about this place, about where we actually are?”

The clearing went silent. Even the air seemed to hold its breath.

Malus’s massive head tilted slightly, the creak of bark echoing like shifting stone. Then, in a slow, rumbling voice, he said, “...No. I do not.”

The four of them stared.

Issei blinked. “...Wait—seriously?”

Yuuka’s shoulders slumped. “You’re kidding…”

Weiss’s jaw dropped slightly before she groaned in disbelief. “You made us walk through half the forest for that?”

Even Azula looked mildly exasperated, folding her arms. “I see ancient beings are just as unhelpful as bureaucrats.”

Malus’s shoulders or what passed for them, shook as a deep, rumbling laugh rolled through the clearing. “Hahaha! Forgive me, children. I only wanted to see your faces when I said it.”

“Not funny!” Issei said, pointing accusingly up at him.

The Ent’s laughter subsided, replaced by a gentle smile. “But you are correct to ask. While I may not know what this realm truly is, I do know some things, things I have seen through the time I have been here.”

Weiss crossed her arms again, curiosity flickering beneath her irritation. “Then what do you know?”

Malus’s tone grew thoughtful, his voice softer now. “You should know that I cannot leave this place. My trunk and size is quite big. When I was but a young sprout, I wandered freely through my home forest. But one day, while basking beneath the sunlight, I took a step and the next moment, I was here. Alone. The soil was dead, and the sky above was nothing but a hollow illusion.”

He paused, his golden eyes distant. “In time, I realized that I was not dead… but misplaced. And though I called out to the world, it did not answer.”

Yuuka frowned, her voice small. “So you’ve been trapped here ever since?”

The Ent nodded slowly. “Aye. For a long while, there was nothing but silence. Until one day… I met someone.”

He smiled then, the movement slow and nostalgic. “A human traveler. A man unlike any other, vibrant, kind, and impossibly alive. He called himself Hashirama.”

Azula raised an eyebrow. “Hashirama?”

Malus chuckled softly. “Yes. A strange name, is it not? But he was my first friend. He possessed a gift, the ability to command life itself, to make the barren earth bloom. Together, we spoke for many days. I told him of my loneliness, he spoke of the endless halls beyond this room. And when it came time for him to leave, he smiled and told me he would not let me remain alone.”

Malus’s great form shifted, and the forest around them seemed to breathe in unison.

“He raised his hand to the soil,” the Ent continued, “and in the span of hours, this forest was born. Every leaf, every vine, every root you see — all sprung from his will. His gift. A farewell to a friend who would outlast him.”

The group stood in silence, the awe palpable.

Weiss’s expression softened slightly, her analytical mind struggling to grasp the sheer scale of what she was hearing. “One man… created all of this?”

Yuuka looked around at the towering trees, wonder lighting up her face. “That’s… incredible.”

Issei scratched his head, whistling low. “Guess you could say he really went above and beyond for a goodbye gift.”

Azula’s lips twitched into a smirk. “To create an entire forest just because he could. I’d like to meet this man.”

Malus’s smile dimmed, the weight of ages settling over his features. “I would like that as well. But I have not seen him since that day. Time passes strangely here. Decades, perhaps centuries… I have met other travelers who claim to know his name, but none could tell me what became of him.”

A quiet melancholy settled over the clearing.

Weiss sighed softly. “So… we’re not any closer to understanding this place.”

The Ent’s gaze lowered, his voice turning somber yet kind. “Perhaps not. But knowledge comes in pieces, children. Even the smallest root leads to greater truths.”

Then, as if remembering something, his eyes glimmered faintly. “There is one thing, however, that many travelers have agreed upon.”

The group looked up at him expectantly.

Malus’s golden eyes burned brighter as he spoke the word with quiet gravity.

“They call this realm… the Backrooms.” The name lingered in the air like an echo, heavy, ominous, and impossibly vast.

—------------------------------------

The endless hum of the fluorescent lights continued the deeper she traveled.

In this part of the Backrooms, the air was colder, unnaturally still, as though even sound feared to exist here. Shadows pooled thickly in the corners of the corridors, pulsing faintly as if alive. It was the kind of place that devoured light.

Perfect for her.

SCP-835, Yamiko Keteru, glided silently through the darkness, her bare feet making no sound on the damp carpet. Her red eyes glowed faintly, reflecting a color that wasn’t quite human. The shadows bent and rippled around her with every step, like living tendrils responding to her presence.

Her expression was calm, almost serene, though her gaze darted curiously across the walls and ceiling. She had long stopped wondering why she was here, the maze was as familiar to her as the containment cells once had been, a cage without end, infinite in both direction and despair.

Still… she found its silence comforting. Until something broke it.

A low, guttural growl echoed from the far end of the hall. It was deep, resonant, not human, not mechanical. The kind of sound that vibrated through the floor and into the bones.

Yamiko paused, head tilting slightly. The corners of her mouth curved upward. “Hmm…?”

From the darkness ahead, a shape emerged, four-legged, massive, and coated in darkness and of white bone. Its eyes glowed bright red, twin orbs of ghostly luminance. The creature’s form was vaguely canine, its body armored with jagged ridges of bone.

A Beowolf. But this one was different. Larger. Denser. 

Yamiko’s smile widened. She stepped forward fearlessly, materializing from the shadows until she stood before it, her long black hair falling over one eye. 

The wolf growled again, a deep rumble that shook the walls, but it didn’t attack. Instead, it lowered its head, sniffing at her curiously.

The smell of her was strange, human and not. The scent reminded it of the pit… of the birthplace of all Grimm… of its long-lost creator. Its glowing eyes softened, the tension in its shoulders fading. Slowly, the Beowolf pressed its muzzle against her arm.

Yamiko blinked in mild surprise before letting out a soft giggle. The sound was disturbingly sweet in the otherwise silent hall.

The creature huffed softly and nuzzled her again, its snout brushing against her stomach. Its shadowy fur felt cool and almost liquid to the touch, leaving trails of black mist wherever it made contact.

Yamiko laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.

The Beowolf licked her hand, its tongue leaving behind streaks of darkness that quickly dissolved into her skin. Her eyes widened slightly, then softened as a faint sense of recognition or perhaps kinship, crossed her face.

The Beowolf tilted its head, its glowing eyes reflecting her expression perfectly, curious, longing, lost.

She crouched slowly, placing a hand on its snout. “You poor thing. Trapped here too, aren’t you?” Her fingers sank slightly into the shadowy texture of its fur, the surface rippling like water. “Don’t worry… I’ll take care of you.”

The shadows beneath her feet began to stir, spreading outward in black tendrils that reached toward the wolf. The Beowolf didn’t move. It merely watched as the darkness wrapped around its body like silk, pulling it closer and closer until it began to dissolve into her.

“Shh,” Yamiko whispered as the shadows consumed it. “You’ll be safer with me.”

The Beowolf gave one last rumbling growl, not of pain, but contentment, before vanishing completely into her form.

The corridor was silent once more.

Yamiko stood, brushing a strand of hair from her face as faint wisps of black smoke coiled around her body. Her red eyes glowed brighter for a moment before fading back to normal.

Inside her shadow, something stirred, a heartbeat, deep and animalistic, now part of her own.

She smiled faintly, almost affectionately. “Now then,” she murmured, looking down the dark corridor, “let’s see what other treasures this place is hiding.”

And with that, her body dissolved into the shadows, melting into the wall as she vanished — leaving behind only the faint echo of her footsteps.

—--------------------------------------

Issei and the girls sat together around the small campfire, its warmth a comforting illusion in a world that didn’t obey normal rules. The flickering light painted their faces in soft gold, making the artificial woods seem almost alive.

They were eating. Or rather — indulging.

Before them lay a basket of strange, glistening fruits that Malus had given them. They looked like something between apples and peaches, their skin faintly glowing from within. When bitten into, the taste was indescribable, sweet like honey, but sharp like citrus, leaving behind a pleasant warmth that lingered in their throats.

Yuuka was smiling as she kept eating. “These are amazing!” She said between bites, juice dripping down her fingers. “It’s like… like sunshine, if that makes any sense.”

Issei chuckled, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “I don’t know what sunshine tastes like, but yeah, this is incredible.”

Even Weiss, who usually maintained her poised composure, seemed more relaxed. She sat with her knees tucked to one side, savoring the fruit with a quiet hum of approval. “I’ll admit, for once, you’re right, Issei. These are… exquisite.”

Azula leaned against a fallen root nearby, taking slow bites of her fruit as her golden eyes reflected the campfire’s glow. “I never thought I’d thank a tree for dinner,” She said dryly, her lips curving into a faint smirk.

From behind them, the deep rumble of laughter echoed through the clearing. “Hah! You’re very welcome, youngling.”

The group turned toward the massive figure of Malus, whose colossal body loomed in the. His eyes glowed softly, twin suns of golden warmth as his voice filled the forest.

“I’m glad you enjoy them. Those fruits are gifts of this forest, Hashirama’s last creation before he left. Many travelers have praised them before you, though none seemed as lively while eating as you four.”

Issei smiled up at him, giving a playful salute with a half-eaten fruit in hand. “Guess we’ve got good taste.”

Weiss rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. “We’re grateful, truly. Even if we don’t technically need food here, it’s… comforting. A small piece of normalcy.”

Malus nodded, the movement slow and majestic. “Indeed. Hunger may not haunt you in this realm, but the memory of it remains. The body remembers what the soul desires.”

Azula tilted her head, curiosity glimmering in her eyes. “Tell me, Malus, do all Ents possess the same abilities as you? I’ve noticed your control over this place… even my flames are snuffed out to your will earlier.”

The Ent chuckled again, his bark creaking like a ship in calm waters. “Ah, that. No, child — I was not always so strong. Most Ents are guardians of their own forests, simple keepers of life and nature. But I am… different now.”

He paused, his golden gaze softening. “Ever since Hashirama touched this soil, something changed within me. The life he breathed into the earth awakened parts of me I never knew existed. I learned to command my forest — to nurture it, to heal it, even to quell flame itself.”

Azula’s brow furrowed, a flicker of admiration beneath her curiosity. “So his power lingers even after all this time…”

“Indeed,” Malus said, his voice deep and wistful. “It is both a blessing and a burden. For while I was gifted strength, I also inherited an incredible loneliness.”

Silence settled for a moment, broken only by the crackling of the fire. The mood softened — a strange blend of gratitude and melancholy.

Then, Malus’s eyes shifted downward, focusing gently on the small group. “Now then, little ones, tell me, what will you do next?”

Weiss sighed quietly, placing the remains of her fruit aside. “After we rest, we’ll continue searching. We’ll find another door and leave this place, if possible. We need to find a way home.”

Malus’s golden eyes dimmed slightly, his tone turning somber. “Ah… the wanderers before you said much the same.”

Yuuka looked up, a note of hope still in her voice. “Did any of them find a way out?”

Malus was quiet for a moment before shaking his vast head. The sound was like wind through an ancient canopy. “I fear not. Many sought the exit, but none ever returned to tell me they’d found it. I have seen desperation turn to madness, and resolve turn to dust. Yet… some of them did speak of paths, doors, and passages that led deeper — or elsewhere.”

Weiss’s shoulders fell. “So, in other words… we’re still as lost as before.”

Malus regarded them quietly, his gaze kind despite the gravity of his words. “Perhaps. But do not lose faith.”

Issei, sensing the heavy air, forced a grin. “Hey, don’t worry, Weiss. We’ve gotten out of worse. Plus this trip wasn’t so bad, we met a really cool tree guy.”

Malus rumbled with laughter. “Ha! I’ll take that as a compliment, young one.”

Then his tone softened again, warm and paternal. “If you wish, I can guide you to the door that my friend Hashirama once used to leave this room. It may not lead to your homes… but it will lead somewhere new.”

Yuuka’s eyes brightened. “That would be wonderful!”

Azula nodded once, her expression thoughtful. “It’s a better lead than we’ve had so far.”

Weiss gave a quiet sigh but managed a small smile. “Very well. We’ll take your offer. Thank you, Malus.”

The Ent’s voice lowered to a gentle rumble, like distant thunder. “Then rest easy beneath my boughs, travelers. You have my word, no harm will come to you while you sleep. The forest will keep watch.” The tension that had been weighing on them finally eased.

Yuuka stretched, lying down near the fire, her pipe set neatly beside her. Weiss sat beside her, back straight even as she fought off exhaustion. Azula reclined with her hands behind her head, gazing up at the unmoving canopy with a faint look of contemplation.

Issei sat last, arms resting on his knees, watching the flames dance as he muttered softly, “Thanks again, Malus. For everything.”

The Ent’s deep voice rumbled in reply, distant yet comforting. “You are welcome, youngling.”

Issei blinked but said nothing.

And as the fire dimmed and then extinguished not by wind, but by Malus’s will, the forest glowed faintly around them, a soft bioluminescent shimmer illuminating the roots and moss. For the first time since entering the Backrooms, the group felt… safe.

Sleep came easily.

And as they drifted off beneath the silent canopy, the Ent watched over them as ancient eyes glimmering in the darkness, remembering another group of travelers who once sat where they now slept.

Finally done. Tell me what you think and if I made any mistakes.