When we arrived back at Sera and Amber's camp, everything felt... off. That evening, we didn't know what we had gotten ourselves into until it was too late. The skyline blossomed with a rosy pink streak of light, a beautiful contrast to what we saw before us—the forest thins. Smoke trails and wooden barricades mark the approach. The rebuilt camp rises from the clearing. It is disciplined, clean, and unnervingly quiet.
Jennifer rides slightly ahead, brow furrowed. Cyril and Ryder walk beside her. Alert.
"...This isn't the camp they described," Jennifer says under her breath.
"Feels like a town that forgot how to talk," Ryder adds.
"Or scream," Cyril remarked.
Ahead were Sera, Amber, Adrien, and me. We slowed down as the outer guards took notice. The guards tensed but relaxed upon recognizing familiar faces. There were no words, just nods.
The gate opens, and we all step inside. The small campfire originally in the center of camp had been replaced with a large bonfire. Most of the students with us admired the work done at the place. This place was a mansion compared to the camp they had. They have never been here before, so it makes sense that they don't know. This place a day ago was around the same, if not slightly better than Jennifer's camp. Now, it's a compound.
The gates that we entered had closed behind us, locking out the forest and the world. Rows of students are quietly organizing crates—some patrol in pairs. No one is chatting or laughing. The air is still. Amber looks around, confused and concerned.
"...Why is it so quiet? Where's the usual yelling and hammering?"
Adrien frowned. "It's like walking into a museum instead of a camp."
Sera's gaze narrowed. "This place was barely functional a day ago... Now it's regimented, militarized."
A few students nearby nod to them in eerie unison. Not out of fear or hate; just... emptiness. We walk past without further comment. From the main path, Malik approaches, hands folded behind his back, expression calm and unreadable. His gaze passes over the group, lingering slightly on Adrien, then Ryder, finally locking onto me.
"You're back. And not alone."
"We found Adrien, my friend. And others. Seemed smarter to consolidate." I replied.
Malik nods. "Prudent. Survival favors cohesion." His gaze flicks to Jennifer, studying without judgment.
"You must be the leader."
Jennifer tilts her head, keeping her calm. "Depends. Are you the guy who turned a survival test into a utopian chessboard?"
Malik smiles faintly. "Some call it order. Others prefer chaos. I simply choose what works."
There was a brief silence.
Sera steps forward. Meeting Malik's gaze. "You assigning people now?"
He turns to her. "Everyone contributes. Rotations, duties, structure. It keeps people grounded."
"Grounded or controlled?" Amber chimes, skeptical.
Malik doesn't flinch. "You'll see for yourselves soon enough. Tonight, rest. Tomorrow, assignments begin. You'll find this camp safer... if you cooperate."
Without waiting for a response, he turns and walks off. I stare at him as he walks away. He looked fishy when we first met, but now, he seems to take on a heavier odor. Some of Malik's associates took the other students to look around and get comfortable with the place. The leading group, we, sat on the outskirts, away from the central fire pit. Most other students are quiet, almost robotic.
Adrien speaks quietly. "I don't like it."
"Me neither. He's too calm, too precise." Sera adds.
Jennifer watches the firelight dance. "I've never seen control like that... not without force. The scary part is, no one's fighting it."
"They didn't surrender to him. The silence wore them down."
The air looms.
Ryder grins slightly. "Well, good news. He hasn't met us yet."
Cyril says nothing as he watches the other students pick up tools and ask questions. Like automated machines, the other students respond with immediate answers. His brows furrowed more than usual. We planned a routine where everyone kept watch for an hour, taking turns resting. We didn't trust this at all. Let's hope our superstitions are wrong...
——————————————————————
From High above the camp, Malik stands alone, arms behind his back, overlooking the firelight from the bonfire. His eyes are half-lidded but sharp. He is watching the new arrivals. The fire flickers across faces: Daniel, Sera, Amber, Adrien, Ryder, Cyril. Then his eyes settle on Jennifer, sitting slightly apart. She's relaxed, but her gaze scans like a predator. She doesn't laugh with the others. She calculates.
"Not the loudest. Not the strongest. But she wants to be seen..." Malik softly tells himself.
He tilts his head. "...and no one sees her better than I do."
A faint glimmer pulses from a small crystal ring on his finger.
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The others sleep. A few guards patrol in slow circuits. The camp is quiet, too quiet. No snoring, no muttering. Just the dull hum of torchlight and the rhythmic crunch of boots in grass. It's Jennifer's time to keep watch, yet she doesn't stay and watch them. She patrols alone. Her arms folded, gaze sweeping from tent to tent. She notices the uniform distance between shelters. The precise rows of wood stacked near the forge—even patrol routes—are identical in timing and posture.
Jennifer mutters, "Creepy perfection. Who the hell trims their firewood in a survival sim?"
She rounds a corner and stops. Malik is standing there and waiting, with no sound and no footsteps.
"Couldn't sleep?" He says gently.
Jennifer seems wary of him. "Didn't know I needed your permission."
He offers no offense—only a calm tilt of his head. "On the contrary. I admire the ones who stay awake while others settle. It means you don't trust what's easy."
"No. I just don't trust you." She rebuts with her arms still crossed.
Malik smiles faintly. "Smart."
He walks a few steps past her, hands behind his back. "You're not like the others. They burn bright and loud. You burn slow and deep. It's harder to see... but more dangerous to underestimate."
Jennifer observes him. "...Are you flattering me or profiling me?"
Malik chuckles. "I don't flatter. I evaluate."
He stops near the edge of the watchfield and gestures outward, at the forest beyond.
"Out there, you had to control chaos by force. Here, I tamed it with patience. Structure, precision."
A pause. He looks at her again; there is no arrogance, only certainty. "You understand what I mean, don't you? Real control isn't taken. It's offered... and accepted." He holds out his hand, smiling.
Jennifer takes a step back, uneasy. "And what happens when someone stops accepting it?"
"Then they become unstable. Instability breaks more than the rules. It breaks people."
He steps closer, not threatening, but commanding attention. "You're sharp. You've seen what this camp is. What could it be? You could be part of its future. All I ask is that you watch. Watch. Tomorrow, when the sun rises... you'll see." He affirms softly.
He nods once, gently, and then walks away into the night. Jennifer remains where she stands, her expression unreadable. She looks toward the silent tents and the woods beyond the wall. Her eyes narrow. "... He's good. Too good," she tells herself. She doesn't walk back to the others—not yet.
——————————————————————
The sun rises over the camp like a curtain rising on a play. Today marks the fifth day of the seven-day exam. The students are already assembled. They line up in near-perfect formation, divided by makeshift banners representing task groups: Scouts, Builders, Foragers, Defenders.
A raised platform has always been erected at the center of the camp. Atop it stands Malik, poised as always. Cyril leans silently against a post near the back. Jennifer, Sera, Amber, Ryder, Adrien, and I gathered near the side, watching the show unfold.
Malik's voice was steady, like a leader. "Good morning. You all know why we've endured this long, not because of strength alone, but through rhythm. Balance. A camp where everyone contributes what they are best at becomes a camp that survives."
He gestures to a wooden board etched with names and symbols. Crystal shards embedded in the corners glow faintly.
The assignments for today have been reorganized based on observations:" He begins reading off names, one group at a time."
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"Scouting Group: Elia, Thomas, Nilo..."
"Foraging: Lena, Issac, Rael..."
"Defenders: Mason, Arin, Thea..."
——————————————————————
Then, he adds another group.
"Special Perimeter Team: Daniel, Sera, Amber, Adrien, Cyril, and Ryder."
A low murmur spreads. Malik quickly silences them all with a hand gesture. "You will be stationed beyond the southeast ridge, one of our furthest lines. There are no known threats... yet. But a high alert is required."
Amber steps forward. "You just pulled us in last night. Now you're sending us out again?"
Sera crosses her arms. "Funny how the only ones who haven't been 'reeducated' got the most dangerous post."
Malik smiles faintly. "If you're suggesting I'm punishing competence, I assure you—that's not my style. I simply place people where they excel."
He turns to face us directly. "You all faced multiple incidents. You're efficient and resourceful. And the camp needs results, not debates."
"Are you sending us out to protect the camp... or to test us?" I say coldly.
There was a pause, then Malik shook his head once. "I don't test people, Daniel. Life does. I merely prepare them."
We walk away from the stage. The tension thickens between us.
"This wasn't a suggestion. It was exile with a gold ribbon."
Ryder looks at Jennifer. "He's already turning the crowd. Half of them nodded as we volunteered."
Sera looks at me with concern. "Are we going?"
I look at her, my jaw tight. "Yeah. And, we'll come back."
We walk toward the gate, passing by Malik once more. Jennifer lingers, her eyes on him. He nods at her and nothing more. Malik's voice is low, almost inaudible, as Jennifer only hears. "Oh, with them... and you'll see." She doesn't respond, then turns and follows us out.
We move through the southeast edge of the camp zone. The terrain is sloped and shadowed by old-growth trees. Crystal markers from this world's original layout are barely visible anymore. The air is thicker here. Heavy, too still. Jennifer surprisingly tagged along with us. Not sure why, though. Maybe out of concern for Ryder?
Amber steps forward and scans the horizon. "No patrols. No coverage. No backup. 'No known threats,' my ass."
Adrien checks out a scanner he got from camp. It detects elemental interference. "There is energy interference here. Elemental residue... but not fresh."
"Great... we're ghost hunting," Ryder says sarcastically.
"From ghost searching to hunting..." I remark.
We approach a bend in the trail where the terrain dips into a ravine. There, we pause. Cyril quietly touches the bark of a tree, and it flakes off into ash.
"...Something big passed through here."
"And Malik knew it." I clarified.
Sera looks over at Jennifer, her eyes on the ground. "You've been quiet. Still think this place runs on cooperation?"
Jennifer doesn't answer at first. She crouches beside a crystal stake, brushing ash off its tip. Her fingers linger, watching the glow pulse once, then fade.
"I think it runs on silence. We just haven't figured out who's truly quiet... and who's listening."
I watch her momentarily, uncertain if that was a warning or a confession. After a minute, we moved forward, deeper into the trees.
——————————————————————
After some more searching, they found nothing. The group rests near a rock outcrop. Daniel and Adrien check their maps. Sera keeps lookout—Ryder and Cyril fiddle with a broken sound stone. Amber munches on some dried fruit. Jennifer sits alone, leaning against a tree just far enough to watch the others, and think.
She pulls a crystal shard from her pocket, given to every camper. But hers... has a faint inscription carved in perfect etching: "Observe." Jennifer speaks to herself softly so as not to attract the others. "...He planned this." She recalls last night—Malik's voice like a tune.
——————————————————————
"...All I ask is that you watch. Really watch. Tomorrow, when the sun rises... you'll see."
——————————————————————
She grips her shard tightly. He knew I'd come. He knew they'd challenge him. And he knew I'd be here to watch them fail, or win. She thought to herself as she looked back at the group. Ryder catches her staring and raises an eyebrow.
"You plotting something or just thinking dramatic thoughts?"
She looks back at him, half-smiling. "Can't I do both?"
Ryder grins. "Long as you pick the right side when it counts."
Jennifer says nothing, but she doesn't look away.
After some well-needed rest to cool off, we continued our investigation. The sun hung low, a dull orange disk behind thick tree cover. The light bled through branches like old fire. Our group walked in a tighter formation now, quiet and cautious.
"Feels like we've been circling the same six trees." Amber hushed.
Adrien checks his scanner. "No—we're being pulled. The trial curves subtly east. That's not on the camp map."
"Somebody laid this path intentionally. Either a beast... or Malik." Sera added.
We push through a thick grove of ferns and arrive at a clearing, but stop short. A massive gouge cuts across the earth, at least fifteen feet wide. The soil is torn open like a wound, as if something burrowed upward or crashed down.
I knelt beside the ground, inspecting the dirt. "These aren't blade marks. Whatever caused this, it has claws—massive ones."
"...And heat. This wasn't just destruction—it was branding. Look." Cyril said flatly as he pointed to the inner edges of the gouge, scorch marks, pulsing faintly with corrupted energy.
"This was fresh," Jennifer comments softly. She picks up a broken branch beside the gouge. The wood crumbles to dust in her hand.
Suddenly, a faint inhale echoes across the clearing—a low, wet, rasping breath, like something drawing in all the air from a hidden place nearby. We all freeze.
Ryder whispers. "...Did you hear—?"
Another inhale. It's closer, but no visible source.
"Form up. No talking." I said quietly but firmly.
We draw into a loose circle, eyes scanning. Then, just ahead, the trees part with the barest rustle. A single black feather drifts down from above, landing at Jennifer's feet. She looks up, she's terrified.
"... T-That's not from a bird.."
"It's watching us. Whatever it is—it's studying, not attacking." Sera looked up to see a small glimpse of it before leaving—demonic feet.
"Yet." Amber clarified, gritting her teeth.
"It doesn't breathe like a beast. It breathes like something... deciding."
I grit my teeth. "We're not retreating, but we're not camping here either. We return to the ridge trail, regroup, map the position, and plan."
We slowly begin to back away, never turning our backs. Jennifer lingers a half-second longer than the us, looking at the gouge. She whispers, not to herself, but almost as if answering a question only she hears:
"...I see it now."
Then she turns and follows us.