The air was heavy, thick with an unseen tension, as Rio stood just outside the house.
Clone 8's words lingered in the stillness, each syllable resonating louder than the last.
"Rio," Clone 8 began, his voice steady, "we need to empty our inventory."
Rio furrowed his brows, confusion etched across his face. "Empty my inventory? What do you mean? Why now?"
Clone 8 stood rigid, like a figure carved from stone, bracing against an unseen wind. "I don't know what's in there," he explained, "but we've ignored it since we arrived here. It's as if we've forgotten it exists. That's dangerous, Rio. A ticking time bomb. If there's something useful in it, we need it now. If there's food, fine – it can stay. But everything else? We need to know what we're carrying."
Rio's chest tightened. He had ignored it, deliberately shoving it aside to focus on survival. Before he could reply, a scream pierced the air.
A scream that made his blood run cold.
It was Clone 6.
They all ran, feet pounding against the earth as they followed the sound. The cry led them to the basement entrance of the house. A cold, damp stench rolled up to greet them, clinging to the back of their throats and refusing to dissipate.
Clone 6, trembling, pointed a shaking hand downward.
"It's… down there," Clone 6 gasped. "You need to see this."
The flicker of torches cast distorted shadows as the group descended, each step heavier than the last. The air grew colder, and an unnatural silence enveloped them, broken only by the sound of their breathing. When Rio's eyes adjusted to the darkness, his stomach churned.
Bodies. Twisted, broken, discarded like ruined dolls. Some still clung to the faintest shreds of life, their mouths twitching as if trying to scream, though no sound escaped.
Clone 9 turned away, gagging. "What… what is this place?"
Clone 3's voice was barely a whisper, yet it cut through the gloom like a blade. "This… this village was an experiment."
The word echoed in Rio's mind, dredging up horrors he couldn't name. Experiment. The villagers had been butchered, used for something vile and inhuman, or perhaps not.
He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.
Clone 6 spoke, his voice cracking. "We should have killed them all without hesitation. Whatever they were doing here… they didn't deserve to live."
Rio's head snapped toward Clone 6, his eyes narrowing, though his voice remained measured. "Don't jump to conclusions. We don't even know if the people here were the villagers… or someone else entirely. What if the villagers were the victims? Or worse – what if they weren't, but were being used for something even more sinister?"
The group exchanged uneasy glances.
Clone 3 spoke next, his voice low and uncertain, as though piecing together a puzzle aloud. "This village… was an experiment. Or maybe… they were conducting experiments on others. We don't know. Either way, this place reeks of something far beyond us."
The ambiguity in his words sent chills through the group. The oppressive air in the basement seemed to thicken as everyone grappled with the horrifying implications.
Clone 2 scoffed bitterly, the shadows of the basement making his expression unreadable. "You're right. We're not heroes. But if we hesitate again, it'll be us lying on the floor next time."
Rio opened his mouth to argue but stopped. The silence of the basement pressed against him, suffocating. Finally, Clone 8 broke the tension.
"We can't leave them like this," Clone 8 declared. "We can't save them, but we can give them peace."
Rio's voice was softer now but carried the weight of his resolve. "Let's clean this place up. We owe them that much."
The group worked in grim silence, the flicker of their torches casting eerie, dancing shadows as they carried the bodies out of the basement. Each figure they moved seemed to stare back, hollow eyes accusing them of things they couldn't undo.
When the last body was placed into a hastily dug grave, Clone 5 knelt by the mound of dirt, murmuring a quiet prayer. "I don't know if anyone's listening… but please, let them rest."
Rio stood apart from the group, his shoulders heavy with the weight of what they'd seen. The graveyard they'd created was small, but the guilt it represented was vast.
Clone 8 approached him, his voice low. "Rio, it's time. Empty the inventory."
Rio exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air. "Fine. Let's do it."
In a clearing outside the village, Rio reached into his inventory. As he pulled, the items tumbled out – first slowly, then in a torrent. Weapons, scraps, glowing crystals, strange tools… each object seemed out of place, almost otherworldly under the pale moonlight.
Clone 8's eyes widened. "...Rio, what is all this? You've been carrying this around the entire time?"
Rio scratched the back of his head, the smallest smirk tugging at his lips. "I… may have gotten carried away."
Clone 5 picked up a shimmering crystal, holding it up to the light. Its glow seemed unnatural, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. "This… this could power an entire city. Where did you even find this?"
Their conversation was interrupted by the return of another group. Clone 10 stepped forward, his face pale. "We found resources. Minerals, rare ores, even caves filled with them. But… monsters. We lost a few clones out there."
At the mention of monsters, Rio's mind drifted to the creature they'd faced on their first day – the snake-dragon hybrid that had nearly killed them all. His grip tightened on his sword.
"We need to get stronger. And that starts with me."
As the group ventured into the forest, the shadows seemed to grow thicker, the air colder. Strange sounds echoed through the trees, each one setting them on edge.
Clone 8 walked beside Clone 3, his voice barely audible. "Do you think Rio's ready for this?"
Clone 3 glanced toward Rio, who walked ahead with unshakable determination. "Doesn't matter. Ready or not, he'll prove himself."
And as the group disappeared into the forest's dark embrace, a low growl echoed in the distance – a sound that promised the night was far from over.