"!"
The clearing felt heavier than ever, as though an unseen weight pressed down on every survivor's chest. The tension from Kyle's gruesome demise rippled through the group like a shockwave, leaving them paralyzed.
"A-AARHH!"
A girl's piercing scream broke the fragile silence. Others flinched, trembling as if the tendril might spring up beneath them next. A few clutched their heads, rocking back and forth in futile attempts to block out the horrifying image burned into their minds.
One man fell to his knees, mumbling incoherently under his breath. Another bit down so hard on his lip that blood began to trickle down his chin. A woman stood frozen, her fists clenched at her sides, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
Harry watched it all, his breath still caught in his throat. His mind replayed the scene of Kyle being swallowed whole, again and again, until it felt like the ground beneath him might split open too.
"...There are monsters underneath too?" he muttered inwardly, his stomach knotting.
He glanced toward the fortress in the distance, its foreboding silhouette against the darkening sky. The faint glimmer of hope it had represented was now a cruel joke.
The fortress was out of reach. They couldn't move forward. They couldn't go back. And now…
"Then… there's no hope anymore," a quiet, trembling voice whispered.
Harry turned his head to see a girl—one of his classmates—speaking with a hollow expression. Her words hung in the air like a curse.
"We're going to die here, aren't we?" she added, her voice cracking.
The despair spread quickly. Those near her who heard the words—or had already reached the same conclusion—began to crumble.
"We can't… we can't do this…"
"There's no way out…"
"I don't want to die…"
The whispers of despair became a low murmur, growing louder with every passing second. People stared at the ground, at the sky, at the horizon, their eyes empty or brimming with tears.
Harry's fists clenched.
He'd seen enough of these scenes—whether in books, games, or movies.
He knew how this would go if things didn't change.
When panic and hopelessness set in, survival became impossible. They'd freeze when they should run, hesitate when they should act, and turn on each other when they needed to stay united. They'd fall apart, and when they did, they'd be picked off one by one.
"If this keeps up…" Harry muttered, his mind racing. "They'll get themselves killed."
But what could he say? What could he do? He wasn't a leader like Jess, or composed like Darrow. All he had was…
A soft thud beside him drew his attention. Jess had sat down next to him, her expression calm but her sharp eyes focused on the group.
"Hey, boy," she said quietly.
He blinked, surprised. "Uh… yeah?"
"Can you make them laugh?"
Harry stared at her, taken aback. "Wait… what?"
Jess turned to meet his gaze. "These people are on the verge of losing it. We need to ease the tension a bit, or this is going to spiral out of control. Can you make them laugh?"
Harry opened his mouth to respond but stopped. He wasn't sure what to say. His first instinct was to joke, "What do you think I am, a clown?" But the weight of her request made him pause.
Subconsciously, he nodded.
Then, realization hit, and he blinked. "Wait, hold on. Why are you asking me?"
Jess's lips quirked slightly, though her expression remained serious. "I've just noticed it. You seem have a knack for it."
"A knack for what?"
"For making people smile," she said simply. "You joke, you say the kind of things that make others loosen up. Even in the worst situations. It's a talent."
Harry blinked again, this time in genuine surprise. Of all the things Jess could've said to him, he hadn't expected that.
"A… talent?" he echoed.
Jess nodded. "Right now, we need that more than anything. Can you do it?"
Harry glanced back at the group, his mind whirring. His natural instinct was to deflect, to say something self-deprecating or sarcastic. But as he looked at the pale, trembling faces of his classmates and the others, he realized Jess wasn't wrong.
He did have a knack for this kind of thing. It wasn't much, but it was something.
"Yeah," Harry said finally, a small, crooked smile tugging at his lips. "I think I can."
Jess gave him a slight nod, her expression softening for just a moment. "Good."
Harry stood, dusting off his pants and shaking out his nerves. "Alright," he muttered to himself. "Time to play the fool."
He then took a deep breath, his eyes scanning the scattered crowd. Most of them were huddled on the ground, trembling or staring blankly at the earth beneath them. A few were murmuring to themselves or clinging to whoever was nearest, but no one seemed to notice him.
"Alright, folks," Harry said, raising his voice as he stepped into the center of the group. "Everyone, listen up!"
No one moved.
Harry's eye twitched, but he kept his smile plastered on. "Okay, I get it. You're all busy staring at the ground, hoping for it not to eat you like it ate Kyle. Totally understandable. But hey, good news—I think I cracked the mystery of what's happening!"
A few people glanced his way, their expressions dull and unamused. Most ignored him completely.
Harry scratched the back of his head. "Tough crowd," he muttered. Then, louder, "Fine, let's talk about Kyle! Our dear, uh… fearless leader who taught us how to run. May he rest in… uh, the belly of whatever that thing was."
That got their attention. Heads turned, some with shocked expressions, others glaring as if Harry had just insulted their ancestors.
"Too soon?" Harry asked, grinning sheepishly. "Look, I'm just saying, if you're going to die in a dramatic way, at least do it quietly, right? Not running and laughing like a maniac. I mean, come on, Kyle! Were you trying to audition for the role of 'fast food'?"
A small snort broke through the tension. Harry caught the sound and turned to find one of his classmates—Sam—biting his lip to keep from laughing.
"Gotcha," Harry muttered under his breath.
"I'm just saying," he continued, gesturing to the group, "if you don't want to end up like Kyle, maybe don't sprint toward the giant ominous fortress while laughing like a hyena. Not the best strategy, you know?"
More people looked his way now, some gritting their teeth as if trying to hold back their anger, while others cracked hesitant smiles.
"What are you doing?" one girl hissed, glaring at him. "Are you making fun of us?"
Harry held up his hands. "No, no, I'm making fun of the situation! You know, the whole 'we're trapped in a nightmare world, surrounded by killer monkeys, flying goblins, and now literal death soil' thing. If we can't laugh at that, what can we laugh at?"
A few more chuckles escaped the group, hesitant and awkward, but they were there.
"Look," Harry said, his tone softening as he addressed the crowd, "I know this sucks. Trust me, I'm not exactly thrilled about almost getting turned into a Jonkey piñata back there. But if we sit here crying, we're done for. We need to think. Why did Kyle get caught?"
"There has to be a reason."