Navigate the terrain by shifting left, right, or ascending vertically to adapt swiftly. Command precise directional control—glide sideways, surge forward, or vault upward—to outmaneuver obstacles and master your path.
The hunters’ footsteps crash through the brush behind you—how they tracked you this far doesn’t matter now. Survival does. That cursed gem, cold and heavy in your grip, hums with stolen power, worth every risk if you live to sell it. Run. Faster. Let adrenaline burn your lungs. Roots claw at your boots, rocks skitter underfoot—one misstep, and those bastards will be on you, blades out, laughter sharp as the thorns snagging your cloak. Keep your eyes low. Trust your legs. The forest blurs. Every stumble could snap bones, spill blood, leave your corpse picked clean beside that thrice-damned jewel. So move. Don’t look back.
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