The days following the ambush are restless. The outcasts are emboldened by their success, but the Hunters' retaliation looms like a storm on the horizon. Wan feels the weight of leadership pressing down harder than ever, and the outcasts look to him not only for direction but for protection. Beneath their growing loyalty, however, lies a subtle shift—whispers in the night, uneasy glances exchanged when they think he isn't looking.
One evening, Talia pulls Wan aside, her expression troubled.
"There's a divide forming," she begins, her voice low to avoid being overheard. "Some of the others… they're questioning your power. What you did to those Hunters—it's unlike anything we've ever seen. Some are inspired, but others are afraid."
Wan feels the sting of her words, though he knew this moment would come. The memories of the ambush flash through his mind: the searing black tendrils of his Shade, the way they pulled at everything in their path. He recalls the look in the eyes of the Hunters before the singularity swallowed them whole.
"Fear is natural," Wan says finally. "But if they let it grow, it'll tear us apart."
Talia nods, but her worry is evident. "You need to address it. Otherwise, the fear will fester, and someone might act on it."
Wan agrees, though he knows it won't be simple. The bond they've built is fragile, and the tenuous trust could easily shatter under pressure. That night, as the camp settles into uneasy quiet, Wan steps forward to speak.
"I know what some of you are thinking," he begins, his voice steady yet firm. "What you saw me do… it wasn't natural. It wasn't human. And I won't lie to you—I don't fully understand this power myself. But I do know one thing: without it, we wouldn't have survived that ambush."
He lets his words hang in the air, watching the flickering expressions of the outcasts. Some nod in quiet agreement, while others avoid his gaze.
"This power isn't just mine," he continues. "It's ours. I use it to protect all of you, to give us a fighting chance against Astra and his Hunters. But if any of you believe otherwise, if you think I'm a threat to this group, then say it now."
The silence that follows is deafening. Wan holds his breath, his gaze sweeping across the group. Finally, an older outcast named Loris steps forward. His face is lined with years of hardship, and his voice is gravelly with age.
"You've got a dangerous gift," Loris says. "But I've seen what the Hunters do to people like us. If you can stand against them, then I'll follow you—even if it means walking in the shadows."
The tension in the camp eases slightly as others murmur in agreement. Wan feels a flicker of relief, but he knows the doubts haven't vanished entirely. He'll have to prove himself again and again, not just to the Hunters, but to the very people he's trying to protect.
Subplot of Betrayal
Later that night, as the camp quiets, Wan overhears hushed voices near the edge of the forest. Moving silently, he approaches and catches fragments of a conversation.
"We can't trust him," one voice hisses. "That power of his… it's too much. He's going to get us all killed."
"And what do you suggest?" another voice counters. "Run to Astra and offer him up? You think he'll spare us?"
Wan's blood runs cold. The seeds of betrayal are taking root, just as Talia warned. He steps back into the shadows, his mind racing. Confronting them now could ignite the very rebellion he fears. Instead, he decides to let the whispers continue for now, resolving to stay vigilant. Trust, he realizes, is a currency he'll have to spend wisely if he's to lead this group to survival—and to vengeance.