Logs were scattered around the fire, forming an imperfect circle. Some were already seated, others stood, their posture both relaxed and alert. After a brief hesitation, I sat down as well, feeling the warmth of the blaze wrap around my body still marked by the stream's chill.
A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the distant whisper of the forest.
Then, a clear and cheerful voice rose, cutting through the oppressive atmosphere.
— Hi, Anthony!
I looked up.
The woman who had treated me had stood up. She was smiling — a wide, sincere, almost childlike smile. Her eyes sparkled with innocent joy, as if all of this were just a game, as if the harshness of the world had never managed to touch her.
— I'm Cassandre! Nice to meet you!
She tilted her head to the side, hands clasped behind her back like a child eager to share a secret.
— Your group talked a lot about you!
I wasn't sure whether that was a good thing.
She didn't seem to notice my unease and continued with disarming enthusiasm:
— Come on, I'll introduce everyone!
She clapped her hands as if about to announce a performance, then pointed at a woman sitting not far from the fire.
— Over there, the tall woman with blue hair, that's Elsa, our heavy warrior!
I followed her gaze and discovered a woman of imposing stature. Elsa was massive, her body sculpted by combat and training. Her deep blue hair fell in a thick braid down her back, and her arms crossed over her chest added to her unshakable presence. Her piercing gaze, cold as steel, examined me without blinking. She didn't need words to command presence.
Cassandre, meanwhile, seemed completely unfazed by her frosty demeanor and continued with the same energy.
— Then, over there, the bald super muscular guy — he's always half-naked!
She giggled while pointing at a bald colossus, his chest marked with scars. His face remained expressionless, his dark eyes analyzing my every move.
— His name is Pierre! He's our martial artist, really strong in combat... with some comic exaggeration.
— Over there, she continued, pointing at a woman slightly off to the side, that's Olivia, our archer.
Olivia was slender and graceful, dressed in dark leather. She kept to herself, arms crossed, her gaze distant, as if she were elsewhere. Her bow, resting beside her, seemed like an extension of her being.
— She doesn't talk much, but she's super strong! Cassandre added in a whisper, as if it were a secret.
Then she pointed at another man, a mischievous smile on her lips.
— And him, that's Olivier! Funny, right? Olivia and Olivier — what a coincidence!
She burst into a crystalline laugh, as if she'd just told the best joke in the world.
Olivier, a man with an athletic build, raised an eyebrow but merely nodded slightly.
— He's our medium warrior! Not too heavy, not too light — just right!
She quickly moved on, pointing to a man with hardened features, leaning against a log, looking grumpy.
— And over there, the grump!
She stuck out her tongue at him, visibly amused by his attitude.
— His name is Elmir! He's a light warrior like you, but he complains all the time!
Elmir rolled his eyes but didn't protest.
— And finally...
Cassandre took a slightly more solemn tone, pointing at a woman sitting farther away, silent.
— This is Angélique, our mage.
I tensed.
Mage...
That class brought a flood of memories to the surface.
Lucas.
Our mage.
Our little brother.
Dead.
A shiver ran through me, but I pushed the thought aside. It wasn't the time to be consumed by the past.
I stood up and, gathering my courage, declared in a strong voice:
— Nice to meet you all. Thank you for accepting me among you.
I let my gaze sweep over each face before adding:
— My name is Anthony.
Silence lingered for a moment.
Then Cassandre clapped her hands suddenly, as if to break the tension.
— Great! Now we can pretend we're already friends!
Her innocence unsettled me once more.
She was a light in this broken world.
The first thought that crossed my mind was that they were all powerful. Even Cassandre, under her childlike and innocent appearance, must have been incredibly strong. This wasn't a group to underestimate.
A shiver of uncertainty ran through me. If the situation demanded it... could I kill them?
The question surfaced before I could push it away instantly.
I shouldn't think like that.
I was no longer a beast, a simple killing machine.
I had to be human again.
The camp's sounds felt distant, as if I no longer belonged here. My head spun as my thoughts tangled in the demons of the past.
Cassandre, seeming to read my mind, turned to me with her radiant smile, a teasing look in her eyes.
— You know, we saved your group after you disappeared — you owe us one!
She laughed, as if she'd just told a joke. Her light-hearted attitude contrasted so much with the gravity of the situation that I couldn't help but look at her with a mix of astonishment and gratitude.
But before I could respond, Jules, who had remained silent until then, spoke.
— After you disappeared... a lot happened, he said, crossing his arms, his already dark gaze deepening as he recalled the past.
He continued, his tone calm but laden with restrained emotion.
— Another group attacked us. But thanks to our levels, we managed to hold our own, even outnumbered — five against seven. We won, but...
He paused, searching for words, as if every memory was a weight he didn't want to lift.
— The problem was that Marie couldn't heal all the wounded after the battle. That's when Cassandre and her group stepped in.
I looked at him, stunned by the revelation.
Jules went on, looking thoughtful.
— We thought we wouldn't make it... that it was the end. But Elsa saw things differently.
He glanced toward Elsa, who sat by the fire, her gaze fixed and serious, as if everything around her was a battle to be fought.
— She decided to help, to treat the wounded. With Cassandre's advice, we formed a group of 12 people, as required at the end of this... tutorial.
There was a slight hesitation in his voice at that word. As if he hated it, as if he resented what had been forced upon their group.
Cassandre, still with her mischievous smile, turned to me, her tone a bit more serious this time.
— And here we are, 12 survivors, ready to move forward… Well, now we're 13 with your return. And that's the problem, she added, raising her eyebrows like she'd just discovered a major detail.
She giggled, but a flicker of uncertainty crossed her eyes.
— You see, it kind of messes up our perfect number. We had everything set for 12, but now with 13, we have to figure out how to make it work.
I stared at her, baffled by the innocence and honesty of her remark. To her, it almost seemed like a game.
Léonard spoke up, his deep voice breaking the silence, sounding almost incredulous.
— Do you even know how long you've been gone?
I looked at him, unsure, lost in thought, trapped in painful memories. I had no idea how much time had passed. All that mattered was the present, the dark moments I had lived... survived.
Léonard, observing my hesitation, continued, more firmly this time.
— It's been at least a year since we were separated.
A shock went through me, like a dagger to the chest. A year... A year? That was… impossible.
I stood there, silent, not knowing how to react. The weight of his words smothered me. A year, really? How could I have lost all sense of time? How could I have sunk so deep into madness without even realizing I had spent 365 days in that hell, killing, wandering alone… well, not alone. Not really. She was there, always. That woman. That witch...
I closed my eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by confusion. A year, and I hadn't seen it. Hadn't understood. Madness had devoured me all that time without me noticing.
How had I regained my sanity after all that? How had I survived the pain, the solitude?
A year... It was longer than I could have imagined.
Then, a thought crept into my mind, fleeting but sharp: Cassandre. That woman... There was something about her, something I couldn't fully grasp. But it wasn't really her that had affected me.
No — it was her spell.
What she'd done to me wasn't just healing. It wasn't just to mend surface wounds.
That spell… It had calmed me, far more than I thought possible. It hadn't just healed my body — it had touched something deeper. My mind, my soul… it felt like it had mended everything that was broken in me. For a moment, it had chased the madness away, letting me recover some semblance of inner peace, of humanity.
But that… I couldn't explain. Maybe it was the magic. Or maybe I was just a lost man searching for answers where there were none.
One thing was certain: her spell had done more than heal.
But for now, it was only a theory. And I preferred to keep that doubt to myself. If Cassandre had played a deeper role in my mental reconstruction, I would discover it in time, in her own way.
Jules continued, his voice turning heavier, as if the weight of the situation caught up to him with each word.
— All of this leads us to our current problem, he said, lifting his eyes to the sky, his gaze clouded by a concern he couldn't hide. Out of the 7,777 sent into this hell, only 13 of us remain!
A chill ran down my spine at those words. 7,777… an overwhelming number, almost unreal, and now only 13 remained. If I was honest with myself, I knew I had played a part in reducing that number. A massacre, a true bloodbath. A visceral need to kill to survive, and the madness that pushed me to accelerate the process.
But I felt no remorse. No regrets. It was all part of the game, the inevitable sacrifice. If we had made it this far — if only 13 of us were still alive — it was because fate demanded it. But deep inside, a darker thought took shape.
I knew what it meant. For the "12 chosen" to be truly selected, a sacrifice had to be made. One of us would have to die, so the others could go on. That was the price to pay for survival, for a place in this devouring nightmare.
I had killed to get here, and I knew that, sooner or later, the balance would tip. Only 12 would remain. One of us would be left behind. The logic of destiny. The brutality of this place.
I kept these thoughts to myself, but they weighed heavily. The rules of the game were clear, and deep down, I knew this group — as united as it seemed — would break again.