The group gathered before dark, setting up a fire at the camp's edge. No one had spoken much since arriving—just nods and the occasional sigh as they sat on the ground and began cooking some food.
Maria was the first to break the silence. "The ones with connections—family, friends—are being watched and separated, slowly pulling them apart."
Ethan grunted, tossing a pebble between his hands. "Eric's stuck hauling supplies. They won't even let him near the damn fire pit after dark." His jaw worked. Treating him like he's a threat.
Walter rubbed his temples. "Claire's confined to the medical tents. Partly by choice but also 'For her safety,' they said."
"They're not protecting anyone," Victor muttered. "They're cataloguing. Deciding who's useful and who's expendable." His gaze flicked to the camp beyond, where Emily had vanished hours ago. _Even if she doesn't care for me anymore I can't let this go on._
Lily hugged her knees to her chest, her usual energy dulled to a quiet thrum. She hadn't spoken of Mira, or the news she'd brought. Her chest was still burning with the pain and grief, she had silently listened to everyone else's news. She strangely felt better about not being the only one grieving.
---
Later that evening, Richard sat inside his tent, a few of his most trusted followers gathered before him. A crude wooden table separated them, maps and notes scattered across its surface.
One of his men, a sharp-eyed scout named Callum, was the first to speak. "So, those boys… they're Maria's, aren't they?"
Richard leaned back in his chair. "Without a doubt."
A woman to his right, a quiet but observant figure named Elena, tilted her head. "And what's the plan? Hand them over? Earn some goodwill?"
Richard chuckled. "No, Elena. We do this the right way." His fingers tapped lightly against the table. "Maria and her group have been cautious. Too independent. But now, we have what she values most."
"You're using them as leverage," Callum said flatly.
Richard didn't even try to deny it. "Maria's smart. She won't act recklessly, not when her children's safety is on the line. But she also won't walk away—not when she's this close. If we control the reunion, we control her loyalty."
Elena frowned slightly. "And if she doesn't fall in line?"
Richard's smile was cold. "Then we make sure she understands that this is the safest place for them. And that leaving isn't an option."
---
They woke the next morning to a heavy grey sky and the kind of silence that made the hairs on Maria's neck stand up.
The camp was already stirring, but not with the usual bustle. There was tension in the air. As the group moved through the paths between tents and makeshift buildings, they noticed it almost immediately.
A hunched old man was being berated near the cookfires, his hands trembling as he tried to carry a sloshing pot of stew. A supervisor in a red armband stood over him, barking orders like he was addressing a child. When the pot tipped, splashing hot broth across the ground, the supervisor struck the man across the face without hesitation. No one intervened. Not the workers nearby. Not the guards.
"Keep moving," someone muttered to Ethan as he paused mid-step.
Later, near the storage crates, a young woman—barely more than a teen—was shoved roughly away from a stack of fabric rolls. She'd asked for extra bandages. Her voice had been soft. Her plea reasonable. The guard's response had been a shove to the ground and a snarl about 'privileges needing to be earned.'
Victor and Walter looked on, their anger carefully controlled but visible.
No one fought back. No one raised their voice.
Despite the acceptance that appeared on the surface, thoughts of rebellion were already growing in the shadows.
---
The trees swayed in lazy rhythm, tall grass whispering beneath their feet as the midday sun broke through gaps in the thick canopy above. AJ sat in the middle of a sunlit clearing, his slime body gently pulsing, the edges of his form shimmering with faint iridescence.
Sam knelt on a patch of flattened moss, a weathered notebook balanced on one knee and his pencil tapping against his chin. He muttered to himself, jotting something down.
They had been conducting tests, trying to better understand AJ's slimy body and its abilities, strengths and weaknesses.
"Right, AJ," he said, peering up at the slime, "test number… eh, let's call it 'moss-and-pebble combination.' If you can, try absorbing both at once, like before. I want to see if there's any—uh—visual difference."
AJ gave a tiny ripple, which Sam had begun interpreting as something like a shrug. AJ reached out a tendril towards a nearby cluster of moss and a palm-sized river pebble Sam had collected earlier. The moss vanished into his form without resistance, followed by the stone. A few seconds passed.
Sam leaned in, pencil poised.
AJ's surface shimmered, turning slightly green around the edges. Then the colour faded. The stone remained visible for a moment longer, suspended inside his gelatinous body, before dissolving like sugar in water.
"Huh," Sam said, eyes wide, "so organic material integrates quickly. Inorganic stuff takes longer, but still goes. Interesting... Wonder if it's breaking down the chemical bonds somehow or just... melting it."
AJ burbled—a low, wet gurgle that Sam had decided sounded vaguely amused.
Sam smiled. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm talking too much again." He scribbled in the notebook, flipping back to compare earlier pages.
"But you have to admit, this is wild. Like, if we understood this even a little more, you might be able to absorb poison and neutralise it. Or reinforce your mass with certain metals. That opens a whole range of tactical uses, right?"
AJ shifted slightly, a ripple of light flickering across his surface like a nod.
Sam exhaled through his nose, looking down at his notes. He hesitated, tapping the pencil against the side of the book.
He glanced up.
"Just so you know, you're not a test subject, AJ. You're my... my friend. We'll figure out this body of yours together, yeah?"
AJ extended a small tendril towards Sam's boot and gave it a light tap, then recoiled quickly like a shy wave. Sam blinked and chuckled.
"Right then. Let's try bark next. Maybe we'll get a reaction—heat, texture, something." He tore off a flake from a nearby tree and held it out. "Ready when you are."
---
AJ reached out, the edge of his form stretching towards the strip of bark in Sam's hand. Light hit its pale surface, and in that instant, AJ saw more than just colour or texture.
He felt the bark.
Not in the way humans felt—with nerves and pressure—but as something deeper. His body, always listening, always hungering, resonated with the faint echo of mana within the bark.
The moment he made contact, it happened.
The bark softened inside him—not in a chemical sense, the mana binding its shape let go. Its structure lost definition, dissolving as his form pulled apart the strands that made it whole. It didn't feel like destruction. It felt like translation.
AJ stilled, letting the world filter through him.
Where he saw trees, now he also saw conduits. The canopy above glowed with threads linking leaf to branch, branch to trunk, trunk to earth. A bird flapped past overhead—its mana brushed the air, left a trail. Even the rocks weren't totally inert.
He had no eyes in the traditional sense, but he sensed the forest. Its shape. Its temperature. Its flow.
Sam was nearby, a tight, rapid spark of motion—focused, curious. AJ could feel the heat of his attention, the way it fluttered across his form every time Sam's pencil scratched across paper. AJ responded in kind, a ripple here, a shift there, adjusting his form slightly to test how Sam reacted.
---
The camp stirred with a restless energy, the kind that simmered beneath the surface, waiting for the right spark to ignite it. Richard's control had grown tighter with each passing day, his enforcers patrolling the perimeter. But where there was control, there was also resistance—quiet, hesitant, but undeniably present.
Victor was the first to bring it up, his voice low as the group gathered. "People are starting to push back."
Lily nodded, her eyes scanning the camp. "I've heard it too. They're tired of being told what to do, where to go, how to live."
Maria spoke thoughtfully. "Then let's nudge them further along. Their help will be necessary."
Sam, who had been quietly observing the conversation, spoke up. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it. "Richard's control is built on fear and manipulation. If we can undermine that, even in small ways, it could destabilise his hold on the camp."
Walter leaned back. "Gathering supporters will be good for us whether they join the fight or not. Once Richard is out, someone else will have to take over. Whether it's one of us or someone else, they need to have the public's approval."
Ethan leaned forward. "We need to start thinking about what comes after Richard. People need to see a clear alternative, something they can believe in."
"Right," Maria agreed. She thought for a moment before making a suggestion. "We could form a council—all of us. A collective leadership that represents the best interests of everyone in the camp. We can show them that there's a better way."
Lily's eyes brightened. "We could hold meetings, get input from everyone. Make sure every voice is heard."
Sam nodded. "We'll need to be transparent. Let people know what we're doing and why. Build trust from the ground up."
Victor crossed his arms. "We'll also need to address immediate needs—food, shelter, security. Show them that we can provide what Richard can, and more."
Walter added, "Education too—teaching people skills, empowering them. That's how we build a strong community."
AJ rippled softly, a sign of agreement. The group looked at each other, a shared determination in their eyes. They knew the road ahead would be challenging, but they were ready to lead the camp into a brighter future.