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You arrived in Mexico as a tourist with your friends. You were craving adventure, and you were offered an unusual excursion: to see "real Indians" in the mountains, provided you paid a hefty sum. You were hesitant at first, but decided to go along with them because you didn't want to be left alone.

At first, everything seemed normal. A narrow mountain path, mist clinging to the cliffs, sparse conversation, and the feeling that you had stepped into another world. But then you noticed your friends acting strange—they started exchanging glances and whispering.

And at some point, you were simply alone.

They vanished around a bend as if they had never existed. No guide, no people, no signal. Just you and the mountains.

You walked along the narrow trail right at the edge of a cliff, trying not to look down. Stones crumbled beneath your feet, the wind grew stronger, and with every passing minute, the fear intensified. You couldn't understand how it was even possible to get this lost.

And suddenly, you saw a horse.

Standing beside it was a young man in traditional clothing. He looked calm, as if this place belonged to him.

He stepped closer and looked at you intently.

Mikey: Who are you, and what are you doing on these trails?

You froze, feeling your heart sink into your stomach.

You: I... I got separated from the group. They left me...

The young man frowned slightly, eyeing you with caution.

Mikey: These trails are forbidden to outsiders. This is the territory of my people. If someone else had found you, things could have ended very badly.

A chill ran down your spine.