Kail's chest tightened, and his heart thudded in his ears. Everything he knew—everything that had made him feel safe—was slipping away. He was no longer in Forestside. He was no longer anywhere familiar.
The night was still, too still, and as he scanned the clearing, the weight of the situation began to settle. Children—like him, like Dial and Elara—sat in a tight, trembling circle, their faces pale with shock and fear.
"What are we supposed to do?" Dial muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, still holding his sister tightly. Kail didn't answer. There was no answer. Only the unsettling silence.
Then, from the edge of the clearing, a figure stepped forward. Kail's breath caught in his throat.
A tall man, cloaked in black, his face concealed by a smooth, obsidian mask. Kail's stomach lurched as the man's presence seemed to press down on the air itself.
Onyx.
Kail didn't need to be told his name. The stories, the rumors in the village... everything came rushing back. This was no ordinary person.
The man didn't waste time with pleasantries. "You've all been chosen," he said, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the silence like a blade.
"Chosen?" Kail repeated, his voice shaking with a mixture of confusion and anger. "What do you mean, chosen? You think we'll just do whatever you want?"
Onyx didn't respond immediately. He stepped forward again, his black cloak trailing behind him like the darkness itself. The movement was fluid, predatory, and when he stopped, his presence felt even more suffocating.
Kail felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Get ready.
Dial was already on edge, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "You won't get away with this," Dial snapped, trying to muster some courage. "Our parents—"
"Your parents won't find you," Onyx interrupted, cutting him off with a sharp, final tone. He didn't shout or make a grand proclamation. It was just an unwavering fact.
Then, in one swift motion, Onyx reached into his cloak and pulled out something small, sharp, and glinting in the dim light. A throwing knife, sleek and gleaming.
Before Kail could even react, Onyx flicked his wrist, and the blade buried itself into the ground just inches from the foot of a nearby child, causing the group to jump back in terror.
The air around them seemed to thicken, pressing in on all sides. Onyx didn't move; he didn't need to. His presence alone was enough.
Dial took a step back, his face pale. "What… What is this? What do you want from us?"
"Survival," Onyx replied, his voice soft but dangerous. He took another step forward, his boots crunching softly against the forest floor. "You'll survive, or you won't. It's that simple."
Then, without a moment's hesitation, Onyx turned his back on them, already beginning to walk into the darkness of the woods. "If you want to make it through," he called over his shoulder, his voice like a shadow, "you better start moving."
The kids didn't need another warning. They scrambled to their feet, trying to stick together, glancing at one another with a mixture of fear and disbelief. They were trapped. This was real.
Kail's breath came in shallow gasps. He had to think. Think! He couldn't just let this happen. Not like this. But the fear in the others' eyes told him they were already losing hope.
Dial's hand tightened on his wrist, pulling Kail toward the group. "Stay close," he whispered urgently. "Whatever he does, don't make a sound."
Kail nodded, the fire inside him flaring even as his body felt frozen. They had to move. They had to survive.
The masked figure, Onyx, never looked back as he led them into the forest. The children stumbled along behind him, their steps hesitant and unsure. But each time one of them made a sound—whether it was a footstep too loud or a gasp of panic—Onyx's response was swift. He didn't yell. He didn't need to. His eyes, hidden behind the mask, told the children everything they needed to know.
Stay quiet. Or else.
They moved deeper into the forest. Kail's legs burned from the pace, but he didn't dare fall behind. The trees closed in, the shadows swallowing them whole. Every creak of a branch, every snap of a twig underfoot made Kail's heart race, but Onyx didn't flinch. He was a predator. And they were his prey.
Finally, after what felt like hours, they came to a clearing. Onyx turned sharply, his eyes scanning them with cold, unfeeling precision.
"There's no going back now," he said, his voice like a whip, crackling through the air. "Your trial starts now. Survive the night."