Night fell upon the makeshift shelter with an almost supernatural speed. Roy, Anne, David, and Julie had settled, as best they could, into the small hut made of branches that Aaron had shown them. Outside, the forest remained perfectly silent, still devoid of the slightest breeze or birdsong. The hours that had just passed felt unreal, and yet fatigue was already pressing down on them like a heavy weight.
Anne, who had until then been trying to reassure everyone, kept her eyes open longer than the others. She watched over Julie, who was sleeping fitfully, shaken by nightmares. From time to time, the young girl would wake with a start, tears in her eyes, asking where they were. Anne would then whisper a few soothing words, gently reminding her that they were safe for now.
David, for his part, had a thick branch propped up beside him, one end crudely sharpened into a point. He slept lightly, unable to shake the image of monsters emerging from the forest—or the image of Aaron, the amputated survivor who moved through the trees with surprising ease. Every so often, David would jolt awake, listening for the faintest sound, the smallest movement outside.
Roy, sitting against the wall of the shelter, let his eyelids close for a moment. He was exhausted, more than he would have thought possible. His legs and back ached, and yet his mind was bubbling with questions. How had Aaron survived thirty days alone in a place like this? What kind of mental strength did it take not to lose one's mind? Roy remembered Aaron's strange look—his demeanor both distant and precise, as if he were following a plan whose rules only he understood.
Meanwhile, perched on a thick branch a little higher up, Aaron kept watch over the makeshift camp below. He was crouched, his spear resting across his knees. His right arm—the only one he had left—was tightly gripping the metal shaft, while his left stump, roughly bandaged, served as a constant reminder of the reason behind his obsessive caution.
Inside his mind, the cold, methodical voice spoke once more:
"Their lives are valuable. They will help us understand more about this world."
Eventually, Aaron leaned his back against the tree trunk and allowed himself to drift into a light sleep, his body still alert.
At dawn, when a pale halo of light began to filter through the branches, Aaron glanced down at the camp. From his elevated position, he saw Roy stir, rubbing a tired hand across his face. Inside the shelter, Anne also sat up, silently watching David and Julie as they slept.
Still perched on his branch, Aaron stretched slowly, feeling the weariness of countless sleepless nights in every muscle. Yet part of him—now immune to exhaustion—commanded his body to continue, to never let down its guard.
Still, he was grateful to have slept a full night for the first time in days. The group's cries, had there been an attack, would've alerted him.
They had at least proven useful, even if they didn't realize it.
The one-armed survivor dropped to the ground with startling grace, despite his missing limb. His landing made barely a sound on the dead leaves. Anne, who had been stepping outside to check the surroundings, flinched slightly at the sudden appearance of Aaron. She relaxed as soon as she recognized his stern face and cold—but not hostile—eyes.
"Good morning," she murmured hesitantly. "Did you… stay up all night?"
Aaron barely shrugged, as if the concept of sleep or watch had long since lost meaning for him. Roy, hearing their voices, sat up as well and joined them at the entrance of the shelter. He nodded at Aaron cautiously, almost respectfully, aware of how crucial this man could be to their survival.
Anne glanced toward David and Julie, who were still fast asleep. The teacher let out a soft sigh of relief, grateful that those two could grab a few more moments of rest before facing another day in this hostile world.
"You mentioned… advice," Roy finally said, turning his attention to Aaron. "I think we're ready to listen."
Aaron swept his eyes over the crude camp—the clumsy shelter, the tired faces, the improvised weapons. An almost invisible smirk crossed his face.
"First thing: never trust sound," he said calmly. "Here, silence means safety. If you hear noise… you're already dead."
Anne shivered, remembering with horror how fast the previous day's attack had wiped out the others. Roy crossed his arms, wearing a grim expression. He had a thousand questions—where to find water, food, how to defend themselves, how to survive just one more day—but Aaron didn't seem ready to hand out easy answers.
Inside the shelter, David and Julie began to stir, drawn from sleep by the sound of voices outside. Seeing Aaron so close, the girl instinctively recoiled, before remembering he was supposed to be their ally.
Roy placed a reassuring hand on Julie's shoulder, helping her up. David, still wary, gripped the sharpened stick he had kept close all night. Despite his unease, he had to admit the man had done nothing so far to warrant violence.
Roy turned to the one-armed man.
"I think you can imagine how confused we are. Could you tell us what's going on here? Where are we, why are we here, how did we get here?"
Aaron remained silent for a moment, scanning each of them with his piercing gaze. His spear rested firmly against his shoulder.
"I don't know," he said at last, his voice neutral. "I was at home. I woke up here, like you. There were a hundred people with me that day. Like you. I survived the first monster attack. Like you."
Roy clenched his jaw, sharing that same feeling of helplessness.
"So we don't know where we are, or why," murmured Anne, who was listening from behind, her hands still on Julie's trembling shoulders. "How did you survive?"
"By quickly understanding that no one's coming to help. By avoiding the monsters. And by acting smart, all the time."
A chill ran down Roy's spine. So they didn't know much more than what they could figure out on their own. Still, the way Aaron spoke, the precision of his words, the glint in his eye… everything hinted that he knew more than he let on. Perhaps a sliver of truth he clung to in order to stay sane.
"There's really no explanation?" David insisted, his voice slightly trembling. "No clues, nothing?"
Aaron shook his head, almost wearily.
"Just guesses. This place doesn't work like our world. No sun, no wind, no animals. Just the monsters. And… you." He emphasized that last word, reminding them all of their isolation. "I don't know the reason. I don't think it matters. Here, you either learn to survive, or you die."
A heavy silence fell over the group. Julie, throat tight, stared at the ground, her fingers clutching her shirt. Anne looked at Aaron, confused, wondering if this merciless-looking young man could even help them, despite his apparent mastery of the situation.
Roy took a slow breath, letting his arm fall back to his side.
"We won't ask more questions," he said calmly. "Thank you for guiding us this far. If you could just show us where to find food and clean water, we'd be extremely grateful."
Aaron simply stepped back and raised his spear briefly, as if indicating the path.
"No talking on the way," he said. "If you see or hear something, signal with a gesture. If you panic…" He paused, his cold, clear gaze sweeping across their faces. "…try not to scream."
Roy nodded, taking a deep breath to steady his heartbeat. The tension was palpable.
Without waiting for a reply, Aaron took the lead, moving with silent agility despite his missing arm and basic gear. His metal spear made no sound; he held it expertly, skilled at masking every trace of movement.
The first few meters through the vegetation felt like a test. The ground was overgrown. There were no trails in sight. A single misstep might echo like a thunderclap. Anne worked hard to guide a panicked Julie, while David kept glancing nervously from side to side. Roy focused on the silence of each of his steps, remembering Aaron's words: "Here, silence means safety."
Despite their initial distrust, a rhythm settled in. The group's progress, though slow and awkward, found a kind of harmony thanks to Aaron's gestures—pointing at obstacles, signaling detours with a nod.
After about ten minutes, David nearly tripped over an exposed root. He barely held back a cry. The muffled sound of his fall startled Julie, but Aaron had already frozen, raising his single arm to signal a stop. For several seconds, everyone's heart pounded, terrified they'd drawn attention. But nothing came, and Aaron resumed walking without a word.
Gradually, the tension morphed into a kind of silent dance, each of them trying to imitate Aaron's lethal grace. Roy felt sweat trickling down his back. His body was no longer what it used to be, and the fatigue was catching up with him.
After what felt like an eternity, Aaron raised his hand to signal a halt. He turned to face them.
"We're here," he murmured without raising his voice.
He stepped off the barely visible path and motioned for them to follow. Without a word, he led them slowly between two curtains of trees into a more open space. Anne and David exchanged puzzled glances, while Roy, heart tight, wondered what came next. Julie clung to Anne, still anxious.
Suddenly the vegetation thinned out, and they stepped into what looked like a clearing. Roy stopped cold as he recognized it. It was the site of the attack—the same circular clearing where their original group of a hundred had been savagely slaughtered by the monsters. There should have been blood, bodies… at least some trace of the previous day's carnage. But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. The ground was smooth, clean, not a single stain. As if everything had vanished overnight.
"That's… impossible…" David muttered, his hand gripping his carved stick.
Julie hid behind Anne, wide-eyed. Roy felt his stomach twist at the sight. A strange chill ran through the group. How could such a thorough cleanup happen so fast?
Aaron stepped into the center of the clearing, his spear resting on his shoulder, and slowly turned his gaze across the empty space. Then, with a nod of his chin, he indicated a small raised stone block, about chest height. The group moved forward, confused minds, heavy legs. As they reached it, Roy and the others saw that it was a perfectly smooth stone altar.
"What… is that?" Anne asked, breaking the silence.
Aaron gently tapped the surface with his palm, placing his only hand on it. His expression remained unreadable.
"This is the altar. The heart of this world, in a way. It's where you earn… or spend… points."
David frowned.
"Points? What are you talking about?"
"Put your hand on it," Aaron replied, motioning to the stone. "You'll see."
Hesitant, Roy stepped forward and cautiously placed his palm on the cold surface. Immediately, he flinched, as if a flood of information had poured directly into his mind. Anne and David watched anxiously, while Julie, further back, clung to Anne in fear.
"I-I see… things…" Roy stammered, dazed. "BODY: 0, MIND: 0… 100 points… there's a… countdown and a search bar."
"Thirty days," Aaron confirmed with a nod. "Just like me. Just like you now. In thirty days, another group of 100 people will arrive right here. They'll probably all die, like my group. Like yours."
Roy pulled his hand away as if the stone had burned him. His breath was short. Anne, realizing this wasn't a joke, hesitated, then placed her hand on the altar, wanting to be sure. When she removed it, her pale face confirmed Roy's experience. David followed suit—more out of wary curiosity than desire. Julie stayed half-hidden behind Anne, too frightened to try.
"So…" David said, catching his breath, "we have 100 points, right? And… what can we buy?"
Aaron simply shrugged.
"Food, water, basic weapons, or miscellaneous items. If you want to survive, you'll need to spend them wisely. I know how it works. I can guide you."
Roy narrowed his eyes, sensing a price behind the offer.
"And why would you do that?"
"Because I can provide food, water, and safety for three days. In return, during that time, each of you will spend your points as I instruct."
The group exchanged stunned looks. Three days? Why three exactly? And for what purpose?
"It would give us a chance to rest," Anne admitted, her voice shaking. "To understand how this… system works."
"And if we refuse?" David asked cautiously, still gripping his makeshift weapon.
Aaron's expression didn't change.
"If you refuse, you'll die. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But soon. You don't know the rules of this world, or its traps. The monsters are out there. Your time is running out." He tapped the ground with his spear for emphasis. "Three days. Food, water, safety. In return, your points."