The ground was still raw.
Dark soil lay piled in uneven mounds beneath the towering trees, freshly turned earth carrying a sharp, bitter scent that refused to fade. Ten students stood in a rough circle around the graves—Fletcher, Eli, Darren, Malik, Briony, Ji Ace, Sienna, Naledi, Estrella, and a few others who hadn't wandered far since the chaos.
No one spoke at first.
The forest loomed over them, branches arching like silent witnesses. Somewhere far away, something howled—but it sounded distant now, almost indifferent.
Eli broke the silence without really meaning to.
"Do you remember," he said quietly, eyes fixed on the dirt, "when we were kids and thought the worst thing that could happen was getting grounded?"
Fletcher glanced at him.
Eli let out a hollow breath, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "Remember that summer at the river? When we stole old Mr. Calder's watermelon?"
Fletcher huffed despite himself. "You mean when you dropped it and blamed me."
"You were closer to it."
"We were both twelve," Fletcher muttered. "And terrified he'd kill us."
Eli shook his head slowly. "We ran all the way back to your place, mud up to our knees, laughing like idiots. Thought we were invincible."
His voice cracked.
"Now look at us."
Fletcher swallowed. "Now we're burying our classmates."
The words settled like ash.
Briony was the first to break.
She stepped forward, emerald eyes glistening, white hair trembling as her breath hitched. "They were alive this morning," she whispered. "They were laughing."
Her knees buckled.
Sienna caught her instantly, arms wrapping around her as Naledi rushed in too, steadying her on both sides.
"It's okay," Sienna murmured, though her own hands were shaking. "You don't have to be strong."
Briony sobbed into Sienna's shoulder, clinging like a child lost in a crowd. Naledi held her other hand, her glasses fogged with unshed tears.
Estrella turned away, jaw clenched tight, staring into the trees as if daring them to move.
Then Ji Ace stepped forward.
For a moment, she looked like she always did—controlled, distant, composed.
Then she spoke.
"I remember now," she said.
Everyone froze.
"I didn't always," she continued softly. "But it's all coming back."
Her voice trembled, but she didn't stop.
"I grew up in a good home. A warm one. My parents loved music… they loved me. I started training when I was young, debuted at fifteen. By seventeen, I was famous. I thought I had everything."
She laughed bitterly. "I thought I was safe."
Her eyes lifted, glassy with pain. "She came to our house. Verena Crowe. She smiled the same way she does now."
Ji Ace's hands curled into fists. "She killed them. My parents. My uncle. Everyone."
A sob ripped free from her chest.
"I don't know how I survived. I don't know why I forgot. But I remember her standing over them. I remember her eyes."
Her legs gave way.
Fletcher caught her before she hit the ground, pulling her into his chest as she shook violently. He didn't speak at first—just held her, steady and real.
"You're not alone," he said quietly into her hair. "Not anymore."
Malik had been staring into the graves the entire time.
Suddenly, his eyes sharpened.
"…That's it," he murmured.
Everyone turned.
"The memory loss," Malik said slowly. "Ji Ace losing her memories. Us losing the path out. The blackout after the gas."
His voice grew steadier. "It's the same cause. Whatever she did to you, Ji Ace—she did a version of it to all of us."
Silence followed.
Heavy. Terrible.
The forest seemed to lean closer.
Elsewhere**********
Camila and Hunter crouched behind a dense bush, leaves pressed against their faces, breathing shallow and fast.
They could hear it.
Sniffing.
Heavy steps shifting just beyond sight.
Camila's entire body trembled. "Hunter," she whispered, barely audible, "I don't think I can—"
"I know," he murmured. "I know."
For once, his voice wasn't sharp. It was quiet. Human.
"I was awful to you," he continued, eyes locked forward. "I pushed people around. Thought strength meant control."
He swallowed. "I'm sorry, Camila. For all of it."
She stared at him, stunned. "You… you're apologizing?"
"I don't know if we'll live," he said softly. "But I don't want my last words to be lies."
Her eyes burned.
"I hated you," she whispered. "But I also cared. That's what made it worse."
He reached for her hand. She let him.
They embraced—brief, desperate, fragile.
Then she shifted back into position.
Snap.
The twig cracked beneath her palm.
The forest froze.
A deep, furious growl erupted from the brush.
The bear charged.
Hunter didn't think.
He lunged forward, planting his feet and driving the spear upward with every ounce of strength he had. The tip pierced the bear's eye, bursting through the back of its skull as the beast reared.
Blood poured.
Hunter screamed—not in fear, but effort—as the bear's hind leg crushed down on his own, pain ripping through him like fire.
Camila gasped, frozen in horror.
"STAY BACK!" Hunter roared.
The bear thrashed, convulsed—then finally collapsed.
Hunter leaned into the spear, using it and the ground to hold the massive body upright until it stopped moving.
When it finally fell, silence followed.
Hunter stood there, drenched, shaking, chest heaving.
Then he threw his head back and roared into the forest—raw, victorious, broken.
Camila stared at him, tears streaming down her face.
The forest had taken many things from them.
But it hadn't taken everything yet.
---------