Two weeks passed since the bunker ruins.
The trio moved mostly at night, guided by Konu's half-burned map and whispers from scattered survivors.
Their path led them northeast, toward a forest of twisted trees called the Blightshade Line. Beyond it was the region survivors had dubbed "The Silence Belt" — land where no radio signal traveled, and scouts who entered were rarely seen again.
Some believed it cursed.
Others said The Mirage made it that way — a calculated fog of illusions to keep the Flameborn at bay.
Whatever it was, they were heading straight into it.
By the third day in the Silence Belt, the air turned heavy.
The trees around them bent unnaturally, as though pulled toward the center of something. Shadows flickered in the corners of their eyes, but every time they turned — nothing.
Even Chen Yu grew quiet.
Rui clutched Bayo closer. "I don't like this place. It feels like… it's listening."
Li Wei didn't answer. He was already starting to feel it — something scratching at the edge of his thoughts.
A whisper without a voice.
A memory he hadn't lived.
They kept walking.
They found the first one by accident.
A man in rags standing in the open, swaying slightly, eyes open but unblinking.
"Sir?" Rui called softly.
No response.
Chen Yu snapped his fingers in front of the man's face. Nothing.
When he touched the man's shoulder, the body collapsed — not dead, but limp. Breathing. Eyes wide and staring, mouth slightly parted.
"Drugged?" Rui asked.
"No." Li Wei crouched beside the man and waved a hand. "He's dreaming."
"While awake?"
"Or being made to dream.
By nightfall, they found the settlement.
Dozens of people lived there — survivors, mutants, even a few enhanced like Rui. They spoke softly and moved slowly, like shadows of themselves.
A woman greeted them with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"You've come to Mirage," she said, "where we don't sleep… because dreams are dangerous."
Her name was Reya, and she claimed to be one of the three remaining leaders of the network.
"Our minds are our weapons," she explained. "They burn cities without touching them. We spread false radio signals, fake settlements, phantom fires. Confuse the Flameborn. Turn them on each other. When they finally arrive, they find only fog and fear."
"But at what cost?" Rui asked.
Reya's smile twitched. "Sanity is a soft thing. And soft things die first in this world.
That night, they were given shelter in a large house near the village edge. It had once been a school building. Now, it had no windows, and salt lines circled every doorway.
Bayo clung to Rui's side. "I heard voices. Upstairs."
Chen Yu laughed nervously. "Creepy kid stuff. Perfect."
But later that night, they all heard the voices.
Not talking — whispering. Calling each of them by name.
Li Wei stood at the doorway, staring at the walls.
They moved.
Not with hands, but with memories. Scenes from before the apocalypse replayed across the chipped paint — Rui's mother in a hospital bed, Chen Yu's father yelling through glass, Li Wei's own face staring back at him, blank and bleeding.
Then silence.
Li Wei woke before dawn and found Reya waiting outside the house.
She looked like she hadn't slept in weeks.
"There's something under your skin," she said without preamble. "You're changing."
He didn't answer.
"You need to go west of here. There's a facility we once used — an old military vault turned memory lab. We lost contact after the second blood rain."
"What's there?"
Reya looked at him carefully. "Answers. Or something worse."
"And you're just giving this to us?"
"We're Mirage. We don't fight wars. We confuse them. And you… you confuse everything you touch."
She handed him a data crystal. "Take this. It opens the vault. But if you go, don't go alone. And don't fall asleep inside."
Li Wei took it without a word.
Behind him, Rui stepped into the light, Bayo in her arms.
Chen Yu followed, cracking his knuckles.
"We're going, aren't we?" he asked.
Li Wei nodded. "Tomorrow."