Zhang clutches his side, slowly turning his gaze back to the cage. He lifts it carefully, gazing at the creature inside. The cat curls itself into a ball, lost in its sleep.
Holding onto the handle, he slowly leaves the area with the cage in his hands. Many civilians turn their heads, seeing an injured man walk by them. Dust clings to Zhang's uniform like a ghost's imprint.
Arriving at the HQ, Zhang slowly stands firm at the center of the desk.
"Oh, Mr. He," the secretary's eyes widened. "Are you okay? Your clothes are burned and you….now have a cat with you."
"I'm fine," Zhang mutters. "I don't know what to do with this guy."
He looks at the name tag on the secretary's uniform: Hanley Flowers.
"Nice to meet you, Hanley."
"Oh, thank you, sir," the man says, rubbing the back of his head. He carefully leads Zhang to the back with all the elevators.
"You know I'm new here because you know the previous guy kind of–," Hanley slowly explains. "Died. You know I'm still new to the job since it happened yesterday."
"Hope you do well," Zhang softly says, leaving through the elevator portal. Stillness draws over the corridor.
"Whoa, I got acknowledged," Hanley mutters appreciative.
Once at the temple, everyone steps back at Zhang's battle-worn state. He awkwardly waves them off as he enters Edward's chambers. The old man lifts his head, mildly shocked at what he is seeing.
What has Zhang been doing for the past 2 hours?
"You know Edward. I want to say sorry," Zhang awkwardly says, words trailing off. Edward thinly presses his lips together, arching his brow.
"Are you possessed? Who are you?" Edward questions. "What have you done with Zhang?"
"Can I not say sorry?" Zhang frowns, offended.
"You can," Edward shrugs. "It just feels weird."
"It does," Zhang nods. He fidgets with his fingers as the two men awkwardly don't speak to each other. Edward tries to speak, but he backtracks on his words, and so does Zhang.
They both glance away, then back again.
"Look, I just want to apologize for how I was acting towards you," Zhang says, breaking through the silence. "... I forgot how important you were when I was young."
"You were always there for me when Conroy was busy…and then you know."
"Conroy," Edward ponders, crossing his arms together. "He was really one of a kind. I can see how much he influenced you."
The old man glances at the cage Zhang is holding and his ragged, torn suit.
"Didn't know you were a cat person. What happened at the pet shop?"
"Do you want it?" Zhang offers, holding the cage towards Edward. "Maybe offer it to Kiara."
"Kiara prefers dogs. Either way, she's allergic to fur."
"Oh," Zhang says. "I guess this is now my responsibility. Haven't really thought that far."
"Get to researching, kid," Edward orders as Zhang walks out of the room.
He suddenly peeks his head out of the doorway.
"Do you want me to train these recruits on a mission?"
Edward shudders at the thought. He could hear the horror and groans of everyone. Zhang is probably standing on a stump, ordering the students to run in 20-mile runs. Every so often, a whip cracks in the sky–where did that even come from?
"Sure?" Edward mutters, looking down at the floor.
"Okay," Zhang replies with a small, uncertain smile. "I'll probably have it figured out in a few days."
Once in his chambers, he places the cage on his bed, letting the bobtail out. The cat surveys its surroundings before curling up on Zhang's bed. Chubby fellow.
"What do I do now?" Zhang comments, looking over his room.
How do you take care of a cat?
He places a makeshift bowl parallel to a wall, but moves it an inch so the cat can reach it.
As the world moves on, the city lights dim into a wheel of neon. The afternoon sun draws into an illuminating moon shining over the desolate night sky. The Emissary's steps stride against the other, face unmoving. He stops mid-step, looking over Thomas' dead body.
[American Warden Temple]
The mysterious figure answers his raging phone. His hand hesitates mid-air. He sits down rigidly, shoulders squared like a soldier. The light from the lamp partially illuminates his face; the rest fades into darkness.
Only one side of his V jawline and the bridge of his nose appeared.
"You're being let off," the emissary explains, circling around a rooftop. "It seems we overestimated you."
"I-I don't understand," the man says.
"The Acid King is dead," the emissary says coldly, phone pressed against his ear. "With Thomas Maloum now gone, all four members of the Carnal Requiem have now been killed."
He looks over the bustling city below. "It seems like Kiara Meitner and Adam Lazarus are much bigger targets than we expected. Edward Meitner and the Covenant are still alive. It seems this task is too much for you. We'll need to postpone it for an undisclosed date."
"What?" the mysterious figure gasps, fingers grasping the desk's edge.
"The Kingpin will not be happy over your failures," the emissary warns as he looks over the body. "He will bury you in cement, I promise that."
The end of the receiver hitches.
"The higher-ups have also given up on you," the emissary claims, tapping his foot. "It was your mission for you only, yet your elaborate circus act cost us money and men. Hope you understand well."
The call ends.
The figure grip tightens around his phone. In a blind rage, he chucks the device at his wall, shattering into a million metal pieces.
"Curse you, Edward Meitner and your family!"
The man's voice echoes through the corridors before he wanders back into the corridors, blending in with all the other Wardens passing by. Sweat trails down his temple, and he is aware of his failures.
By the next day, Kiara and her peers are cutely tucked into their uncomfortable beds in their barracks. Such little sunshines are getting their beauty sleep.
Too bad, Zhang had different plans for them.
He strikes a metal gong–where did he even get that? The sound crashes and erupts through the walls, waking everyone up from their slumber.
Some kids even fell out of their upper bunks, faces slamming on the hard wooden floor. Kiara groans as she rubs her dry eyes, squinting at the chaos around her. As everyone leaves in rows, some still stuck in their pajamas, others in their formal uniforms, they stand still for training.
They all had one thought in mind—What does Zhang want first thing in the morning?
"Those beds are so uncomfortable," Kiara mutters.
Zhang steps forward, looking almost joyful. Zhang's version of joyfulness, however, is not the same thing as that of a regular person.
"Hello everyone, I'll be your instructor for the day," Zhang explains, hands wrapped behind his back. "I hope you are prepared for what I will give you."
The air stiffens.
Many of Kiara's peers pretend to be shot in the heart when they hear those words. Many quiet grunts escaped through those clenched lips while they all stood rigid in long single-file lines.
Adam pretends to have spotted a bird in the distance. Seth tries hard not to fall flat asleep in Zhang's presence. Anby looks like an official A+ student, standing so perfectly rigid and wanting to learn.
What an overachiever.
Kiara raises her hand. "Oh, wait, I remember I need to get back to school. I uh…have assignments I need to finish. Important ones."
"It's Saturday," Zhang retorts, "Why else are you sleeping here? School week is over for you."
"Damn it," Kiara mutters, knowing he's right. "Touche."
Zhang stares at the recruits as if they've done something wrong.
He says nothing. He doesn't have to.
A random bird caws in the distance. Not even subtle about the horror that's about to unfold.
It unfolded on a medium-sized white van. Yeah, it was that terrible. It smells like sweaty socks and teenage despair. Every surface felt sticky for some reason—disgusting.
"Take a right, August," Zhang orders.
"Why am I driving you and these rowdy ruffians?" August groans, fingers tighten around the wheel. "I'm a Warden, not an assistant manager."
"I have connections around the world, August," Zhang says, arms crossed together. "Do you want a good notice? Now take a left."
"Oh, connections," August's expression lights up like a lightbulb. "What kind of connections? Like internal operations? International training programs? Can I be trained under one of your old buddies?"
"Don't push it," Zhang warns, exhaling through his nose.
The van stays silent, almost too silent because everyone was so scared. What was Zhang planning? What could make most leave the temple for the first time, if it's not a mission?
Kiara turns her head, seeing the name of the national park: The Crimson Pineglade.
Oh, she's been there before. She nearly died as well.
"Oh come on," August keeps going, clearly enjoying himself. "I know you know a death monk that lives in a cave."
From the back seat, Kiara yells out, "Wait, there's a death monk?"
"Don't encourage him," Zhang says flatly. "There are no death monks. Monks don't commit death."
Adam whispers. "Ten bucks, the death monks are real."
A thick silence follows.
Someone coughs. The van hits a bump.
Zhang says nothing.
"Technically, they're just monks. They're not called death monks."
Adam's eyes widen. Kiara mouths What the hell at Anby. August opens his mouth to say something, but Zhang cuts him off.
"No follow-up questions. Help me buy an overnight pass at this park."
August blinks. "Okay?"
Everyone else stares through the window, watching Zhang and August disappear into a small ranger station. They're not making it out alive.
The van rattles on the gravel road.
"Whoa, what's that?" one kid spots. It was just a regular red bird; it just landed for a second on a branch.
Kiara stays out of the window, counting the seconds until Zhang returns. He's probably analyzing the price tags, trying to squeeze out every last drop of his value.
"He's trying to kill us," Adam theorizes. "He has finally snapped and wants to abandon us in this park. Mandatory bug-eating lessons, guys."
Seth slouches, already dreading everything. "I swear, if we're about to survive in the woods. I'm going to blame Zhang for every mosquito bite and twisted ankle."
"Ain't this exciting, guys?" Anby awkwardly cuts, all cheery. All of her friends turn their heads in unison, eyes piercing her.
"Zhang will probably pick the cheapest pass to ensure the least comfort, but ensure the highest discipline. Guaranteed–"
"Girl, what's wrong with you!" Adam shouts back, gently shaking Anby like a bobblehead.
Kiara turns her head, spotting Alwin Dubois side-glancing her. Suspicious. He steadily turns his head, pretending to be oblivious. She caught the slight narrowing of his eyes, arms folded tightly under his cloak.
"What an edgy guy," Kiara mutters.
"I swear the van has gotten smaller!" a boy screams, the edges of his uniform singed.
Some of her peers use the condescension to draw crude cartoons and messages. Others started poking each other on the sides and backs to provoke a reaction. A lot of kids actually started imitating Zhang's stern voice, mocking his tone of words.
"Don't smile around him, it'll just confuse him."
"He talks like a robot trained for discipline."
An old hiker slowly turns his head, seeing a bunch of kids hogging up one window, trying to get his attention. He spits on the ground before slowly walking along the trail.
"Kids these days."
Kiara starts writing fake Zhang commandments on the window, trying to calm her boredom. The kids somehow got more rowdy by the second–what kind of kids do this? Oh, right, teenagers. The white van violently shakes, almost flipping over itself.
Alwin scowls, holding onto a handrail.
"Observe how we turn on each other," Adam narrates in a British documentary voice. He leans his wrist in Kiara's face; there was no watch on him. "It's only been like five minutes by the way."
Many onlookers look concerned about who abandoned a bunch of kids in a suspicious white van all by themselves, and why they are writing SOS and sending help on the windshields.
Meanwhile, Zhang is busy discussing price tags in the ranger station. A run-down ranger station. August tries to alert Zhang about the van swaying back and forth, tugging on his sleeve.
"Look, this is an overnight pass for one day, but there is also one for two days for just the same price," Zhang explains, sounding more like counting off war crimes than explaining price tags.
"Sir, this is a campground, not a military base," the ranger dryly responds.
"I want to try something more secluded but also like staying overnight, creating wooden tents," Zhang says. "It's meant to be a bonding trip with a bunch of rowdy kids."
The ranger ponders for a second before digging more backstage.
August peeks nervously through the blinds. "Boss, the van's doing the worm again."
"Does any cover unauthorized trails off the grid?" Zhang gestures.
"It's a national park," the ranger raises an eyebrow. "You just pay and set up your tent."
"No trash. Not cutting trees. No live fire."
Zhang thinly presses his lips, nodding at the instructions. August bites his fingernails, watching the van tip back to its side.
Soon, Zhang eventually returns to the van, witnessing everyone standing perfectly still, awaiting his presence.
"Get out of the van, everyone."
Zhang counts off all of the students he's supposed to watch over before patting August on the shoulder.
"Watch the van overnight. If anything happens to us, get help immediately."
"Wait, what?" August gasps. "I'm supposed to stay in this parking lot all day and night."
"Yes. That's your job," Zhang says, clapping his hands together. "Everyone follows me."
Kiara and her peers follow Zhang like a group of baby penguins following their parents. August awkwardly stays next to the van, swinging the car keys on his fingertips.
"Drivers don't wave that slowly. It's his last goodbye to us," Kiara says, looking back.
Seth's eyes narrow. "Do you think he's mourning us?"
Zhang walks forward, arms folded behind his back. Alwin lingers in the back, eyes piercing directly at Kiara and Adam. His cloak is auditioning for a role in a horror movie with the way it's moving.
Kiara turns her head, seeing him look at the ground like he wasn't staring earlier. Expression unreadable.
She leans in closer next to Adam, almost pressing against him. "You feel like that guy is watching us. Not monetary. Almost like he has a secret agenda."
Adam shrugs, eyes flicker to the cloaked mentor. "Maybe he's just bad at making friends." His expression, however, narrows at the thought.
"He looks like the type to feed lions for a test," Kiara jokes. Alwin's eye twitches, glaring off into the distance. That wooden rice hat still hides most of his angular features, and that colorful cloak sticks out like a sore thumb.
Then–his head tilts.
Kiara stiffens.
"Keep walking," Adam mutters.
Zhang guides everyone off the trail. You can hear the dramatic music blaring. Towering trees with twisted branches stare at them, one of them literally has a realistic face on its bark. On either side of the trail, wild plants crowd in—the spiky kind. The horn bushes, patches of weird-looking moss, and mysterious crunchy leaves, which may not be poison ivy.
A few kids pause mid-step, looking at the 'face'. They swore it laughed evilly.
Seth shifts uncomfortably, worrying about the poison ivy and the bugs. Some recruits glance nervously, half expecting something to jump out. How can something be so scary in broad daylight?
The early morning sun peeks through the trees, unfortunately blinding one unlucky recruit in the eyes.
"Whoa, I'm blinded!" he shouts, flailing his arms.
Before anyone could react, his foot slipped on a patch of mud. His body fell like a ragdoll, sliding straight off a small drop off.
"Ahhhhhh—"
Silence.
Kiara blinks. "Zhang, was that a part of your training?"
Seth shrugs. "Hope he packed a lunch."
Without missing a beat, Zhang quickly scans the area. "Stay still. Panic only worsens the situation."
His eyes narrow. "Now we'll continue on your trail while I signal August to pick up the fallen recruit. Hopefully, he landed in a bush."
As the group follows Zhang with a bunch of groans, they finally make it to their location. Flat grass. A golden glow, illuminating the stone fire pits of generations before them.
"This is more than a campsite," Zhang says, quietly, voice low but clear. "This is a place of history. You will treat it as such."
His eyes met the recruits, sharp and clear. "No fires outside the pits. Please don't cut down the trees. Leave no trace but footprints."
"Welcome to the Crimson Pineglade, everyone."