The Descent Begins
The forest at night was not silence. It was whispers.
The mist crawled low across the ground, wrapping the trees in pale coils that shimmered faintly under the moonlight. Every creak of wood, every rustle of leaves, every shift of wind sounded too close… like the forest itself was alive and watching.
Kaen sat with his back against a fallen tree, clutching his weapon across his knees. His eyes burned from lack of sleep, but the thought of closing them felt like stepping willingly into death's arms. He inhaled, slow and sharp, trying to steady himself.
And then he heard it.
"…Kaen."
A voice. Low, broken. Familiar.
His body stiffened. His eyes darted into the mist, searching for the source. The voice wasn't Riku's. Not Fin's. Not Daren's. Not Lyra's.
It was his father's.
"…Kaen. Run. Don't fight them. Run…"
The sound was so faint, almost like the mist itself was speaking. His heart pounded in his ears. He wanted to believe it wasn't real, that exhaustion was playing tricks on him. But the tone… the warmth… he knew that voice.
"Father…?" he whispered under his breath.
The mist swirled. For a moment, Kaen swore he saw a tall shadow between the trees, its shape eerily human. He rose halfway to his feet—
"Kaen!" Lyra's whisper cut sharp through the fog. "What are you doing?"
He blinked, and the figure was gone. His chest heaved as if he'd been holding his breath for hours.
"…Nothing," he muttered, though his voice trembled.
Lyra studied him for a moment, but didn't press. She didn't need to. She, too, had started hearing things.
A stifled cry broke the tension. Fin jolted upright from where he had been curled against the roots of a tree. His chest rose and fell too fast, his eyes wide and unfocused.
"N-No… please… don't—!" he gasped, thrashing as if something unseen held him down.
Kaen was beside him in an instant, shaking his shoulder. "Fin! Wake up!"
The boy's eyes snapped open. He looked around wildly, tears streaming down his cheeks. His voice was hoarse, shaking.
"I… I saw them… everyone dying… Kaen, I… I couldn't move—"
His sobbing grew louder, too loud.
"Quiet!" Daren hissed, clamping a hand over Fin's mouth. His face was pale, his jaw tight. "Do you want them to hear us?"
Fin froze under his grip, trembling like a cornered animal. Kaen gently pried Daren's hand away, his own voice steady.
"He's scared. We all are. But snapping won't help."
Daren looked away, his pride prickling.
Lyra knelt by Fin, pulling him into her arms with surprising gentleness. She whispered, her lips close to his ear.
"It's alright. You're still here. You're breathing. That's enough."
Her voice was soothing, but Kaen caught the way her own fingers trembled. Her eyes kept darting to the mist, as if she too feared it would take shape at any second.
And in truth, it was working. The Special Squad didn't need to attack. The forest itself was doing the breaking.
Breaking Trust
By midnight, hunger had set in. The bread scraps they had saved were gone, and the forest offered little but bitter roots and dirty water. Their stomachs growled louder than they dared to whisper.
That was when the sound reached them.
Voices. Human voices. Arguing.
Kaen motioned for silence. The group crept through the undergrowth until they reached a clearing. There—another team of trainees, five of them, huddled around a dwindling fire.
But they weren't united.
"Give it back!" one shouted, lunging at another.
"You ate more than your share already!" the second spat, clutching a scrap of dried meat.
"We'll starve because of you!"
It devolved into shoving, then blows.
Kaen's group stayed hidden in the shadows, watching in grim silence.
The argument escalated into chaos. One trainee pulled a knife, his hand shaking but his eyes wild. Another grabbed a branch, swinging desperately.
The first strike drew blood.
Fin flinched, covering his mouth to stifle a cry. Lyra's grip on his wrist kept him from running forward. Her eyes said it all: If we interfere, we die too.
The fight spiraled quickly. Desperation stripped away all humanity, leaving only hunger and fear. When one trainee finally collapsed, clutching his stomach, the others didn't help. They just stared at him with hollow eyes, torn between guilt and survival.
Riku's voice was low, almost cold.
"See it for what it is. The Squad doesn't need to lift a finger. We do their work for them."
Kaen's fists clenched. His teeth ground together as he turned away, forcing his group to move.
"We can't end like that. We won't."
But behind him, Daren muttered under his breath, his pride cracking.
"…And how long before it's us?"
Later, while resting near the roots of a massive oak, Daren's doubts spilled out. His voice was sharp, but his eyes betrayed exhaustion.
"We're fooling ourselves. Hiding, running, starving. We'll break the same way. What's the point of dragging this out?"
The others froze.
Fin stared at him with wide eyes, betrayal stinging his chest.
"You… You're giving up?"
Daren snapped back. "I'm being realistic! Survival isn't courage—it's chance! And ours is running out!"
The words hung heavy, feeding the very fear they all tried to bury.
Kaen finally spoke, his tone sharper than ever.
"If you want to give up, fine. But don't drag the rest of us down with you."
The silence that followed was suffocating. For the first time, Kaen's voice had cut like steel.
And strangely, it steadied them all.
Shadows of Fear
The second night wore on like an endless blade cutting deeper into their nerves. Sleep was impossible. Every rustle sounded like footsteps. Every shadow looked like a mask.
They tried to rest in shifts, but paranoia gnawed at the edges of their minds. Even when Kaen closed his eyes for a moment, he felt them—eyes watching from the mist.
Fin whispered into the dark, his voice trembling.
"Kaen… what if… what if one of us… turns on the others? Like that team?"
Kaen opened his eyes slowly. The fear in Fin's gaze wasn't about the Squad anymore—it was about them.
Lyra answered first, her tone steady but laced with hidden strain.
"Then we don't let it happen. We trust each other. That's the only way."
Daren scoffed, though weaker than before. "…Trust won't fill our stomachs."
Riku finally spoke, quiet but unwavering.
"Neither will despair."
The group fell into silence. Each carried their own demons, their own doubts. But Kaen knew—this was the moment. If he let fear rule, they would collapse like the others.
He rose slowly, standing over them with the faint moonlight behind him. His voice was firm, steady, carrying more weight than ever.
"We survive because we decide to. Not because they let us. Not because it's easy. We survive because we refuse to break."
His words weren't loud, but they burned in the air like fire in the mist.
Fin stared at him, wide-eyed. Lyra's lips curved into the faintest smile. Even Daren's scowl softened, his fists unclenching.
For the first time, Kaen wasn't just another trainee clinging to life. He was becoming something else—someone they could follow.
The mist thickened, as if listening.
And then—movement.
Far away, atop a ridge, a Special Squad warrior stood half-shrouded in fog. His mask gleamed faintly in the moonlight, his posture calm, unhurried. He had been watching.
Another figure appeared beside him, equally silent.
One tilted his head, speaking in a voice muffled but chilling.
"They're starting to break."
The other chuckled faintly, as if amused.
"Good. The longer they fight themselves, the less work for us."
The camera lingered on their silhouettes before fading to black.