Aiden walked toward the town square, his heart a mix of anticipation and unease. Martha's words had made him realize he might have dismissed an important ally, and in a place this dangerous, losing a friend was more perilous than breaking a rule.
The scene on the streets was much the same as the day before, the "residents" still repeating their mechanical motions. But today, Aiden noticed subtle differences—some of their movements deviated slightly from yesterday's patterns, like minor glitches in a program.
When he reached the square, he saw Jack sitting on the same bench as before, a book in his hands. Aiden took a deep breath and walked over.
"Jack, I wanted to apologize for last night."
Jack looked up, his face showing not anger or resentment, but understanding. "Don't apologize, Aiden. You did exactly the right thing."
"But Martha told me you did have a shadow, and..."
"And you chose safety over trust," Jack finished, closing his book with a smile. "In this place, that's the smart choice. In fact, I'm glad you did."
Aiden sat down beside him. "Why?"
"Because too many newcomers die from being too trusting," Jack said, his gaze shifting to the bronze statue in the center of the square. "They're desperate for allies, desperate for information, and they get tricked by the imposters far too easily. The fact that you stuck to the rules when you weren't sure proves you have what it takes to survive here long-term."
Aiden felt a wave of relief. Jack understood the laws of survival here far better than he had imagined.
"So, what was the important information you mentioned last night?"
Jack glanced around, confirming no other "residents" were near before speaking. "I've discovered a pattern in how the rules change. Have you noticed the statue?"
Aiden looked at the statue in the center of the square. It was different from when he'd first seen it. It was no longer pointing due north, but was now angled toward the northeast.
"It moved?"
"Last night, around two in the morning," Jack said, pulling a small booklet from his pocket. "I've been logging the changes in its direction. It's not random. There's a pattern to it."
Aiden studied the direction. "Where is it pointing now?"
"Toward the Pine Needle Inn." Jack's expression grew serious. "Based on my observations, when the statue points to a specific building, it usually means the rules for that area are about to be adjusted."
"What kind of adjustment?"
"It could be a new rule, a modification of an existing one, or..." Jack paused. "...the temporary suspension of a protective rule."
Aiden remembered the warning in the guide: "If it points to your residence, immediately light the birch wood in front of your door."
"But it's daytime, and there's no birch wood in front of the inn."
"And that's the complexity of it," Jack said, flipping open his notebook. "The *Newcomer's Guide* is the basic version, but the reality is always more nuanced. For instance, the statue's pointing has different meanings: a brief point is a warning, a prolonged point is a threat marker, and a slow rotation means the system is recalibrating."
Aiden was stunned by the precision of it. "How do you know all this?"
"Three months of observation and record-keeping," Jack said, tapping his notebook. "And luck. I've seen people vanish for misunderstanding the rules, and I've seen a few successfully adapt to how this place operates."
"Where are those people now?"
"Most chose to blend in," Jack said, gesturing to the "residents" on the street. "The ones who look the most normal are often the ones who have been here the longest. They've learned how to keep their awareness without drawing attention."
It reminded Aiden of Martha's advice—to act like the other residents.
"But you didn't choose to blend in."
"Because I want more," a flash of determination crossed Jack's eyes. "I want to understand the truth of this place, to know why we're here, and to find the real way out."
"Even if it's dangerous?"
"The danger is what makes it valuable," Jack said, looking at Aiden. "And now, I'm not alone."
The words warmed Aiden. In a place so filled with threats, a like-minded friend was a precious thing indeed.
Jack checked their surroundings again, then lowered his voice. "I've noticed a pattern. Whenever the statue makes a significant change in direction, a test event usually follows within the next 24 to 48 hours."
"A test event?"
"Situations that look like accidents, but are actually this place testing our understanding of the rules," Jack said, turning to a page in his notebook. "For example, three weeks ago the statue pointed to the church. The next night, the bells chimed abnormally. Two weeks ago, it pointed to the general store, and the next day the cashier turned into something... else."
Aiden thought of the woman with the hollow eye sockets. "I've seen her. She was definitely strange."
"So, with the statue pointing at the inn, we need to prepare for a test related to lodging," Jack concluded, closing his notebook. "It could involve changes to the room rules, or a new kind of nightly threat."
"Any suggestions?"
"First, re-examine everything in your room for any new anomalies. Second, reinforce your defenses—more salt, more birch wood. Most importantly, be prepared to leave your room at a moment's notice."
Aiden nodded. The advice was practical.
"One more thing," Jack continued. "I think we should start working together more closely. Exchange information, watch each other's backs, and provide aid when necessary."
"I agree. But how do we stay in contact?"
"We meet here every morning at ten to share what we observed the night before. If there's an emergency..." Jack took a small mirror from his pocket. "Use this to reflect sunlight toward the other's window. Three short flashes, three long, three short. That's the signal for help."
Aiden took the second small mirror Jack handed him. "Why mirrors?"
"Because most of the threats in this place fear reflections. It's not just a communication tool; it's a ward." Jack stood up. "Let's split up for now. You go back to the inn and check your room and the surrounding area. I'll gather intel from other parts of town. Remember, stay alert."
Aiden stood as well, feeling more confident than he had the day before. With a partner like Jack, his chances of survival in this strange town had increased dramatically.
"Jack, one last question," Aiden asked before they parted. "Do you think we can really leave this place?"
Jack thought for a moment. "I don't know. But I know that giving up trying is the same as being trapped here forever." He clapped Aiden on the shoulder. "Besides, there are two of us now. Our chances are better than they were alone."
On his way back to the inn, Aiden paid close attention to the changes around him. The "residents'" behavior was definitely different today—some moved with an even more pronounced mechanical quality, while others had stopped moving altogether, standing perfectly still like statues.
Stranger still were the new details that had appeared on the streets: the leaves of a few small trees had turned a pale red, a strange fog had condensed on some windows, and several cats sat by the roadside, but their shadows were human-shaped.
These changes confirmed Jack's theory—the shift in the statue's direction was indeed affecting the state of the entire town.
As Aiden approached the inn, he saw no obvious changes to the building itself, but a subtle sense of unease hung in the air, like an unseen pressure was building.
Pushing open the inn's door, Aiden saw that Martha wasn't at the front desk. This was unusual, as she was normally tidying the register at this time of day.
"Martha?" Aiden called out, but there was no reply.
He started toward the stairs, ready to conduct the inspection Jack had suggested. But just as his foot touched the first step, he heard a sound from upstairs—the distinct sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor.