I am not afraid. I am the recorder. I am Zell23, and I have written the debug script for ten thousand nightmares.
The snow here does not melt. It crystallizes into shards of frozen azure. The trees have begun to move. Not sway. Move . Their trunks twist at angles that violate physics, creaking like the joints of a giant arthritic god. In Build December, the forest is hungry.
User Status: Absorbed. Build Status: Eternal. Forest of the Blue Skin -Build December- -Zell23-
The forest doesn’t welcome you. It absorbs you.
They told me it was a glitch in the LIDAR topography. A patch of forest near the old Hokkaido bio-lab where the spectral readings returned negative blue. I am Zell23. I am a cartographer of the broken, a debugger of the real. I downloaded the patch. I should not have. I am not afraid
And Build December is already installing January .
The forest is.
The locals call it Aoi Kawa —the Blue Skin. Not because of the bark or the leaves, but because of what happens to the trespassers. Three days after exposure, the dermis begins its migration. The pigment drains from your extremities, pooling into a bruised, cobalt hue that crawls up your veins like roots.