Ethan's vision blurred, his body swaying dangerously.
His lungs burned, his throat felt like sandpaper, and his legs—they wouldn't move anymore.
His body had reached its absolute limit.
Too much running.
Too much stress.
Too much thirst.
A deep, aching exhaustion swallowed him whole.
His knees buckled.
His breath came out in ragged gasps.
"I can't… move…"
The moment he felt himself falling, a hand grabbed him.
Firm.
Steady.
Strong.
Karlos.
Moving fast, without hesitation, he caught Ethan before he could hit the ground.
Ethan barely registered his face, but he could feel it—urgency.
Concern.
A decision already made.
Karlos' grip tightened.
"He's pushing himself way too hard."
Ethan had never pushed his body this far before.
He wasn't used to fighting against exhaustion, against dehydration, against his limits. And now—his body was failing him.
Karlos' jaw clenched.
They didn't have time for this.
The beast was still out there.
And Ethan—Ethan needed to survive.
Without another thought, Karlos hoisted Ethan up, gripping him firmly.
"Stay with me, man."
They still had a fight to win.
Karlos, quickly slaps Ethan to get him to snap out of the exhausted state so he can think clearly and understand the weight of the situation they are in right now
A sharp sting jolted Ethan back into reality.
His head snapped to the side, his cheek burning from the impact.
Ethan: "What the hell, man…?"
His voice was hoarse, weak, his body still aching from exhaustion. He rubbed his face, blinking rapidly, trying to snap himself out of the haze.
His vision cleared just enough to see Karlos standing over him, his expression serious, focused.
Ethan: Karlos… where were yo—"
Before he could finish, Karlos shut him up immediately.
Karlos: "We don't have time for conversations right now. Follow me. Quickly. The
Ethan froze.
"Unguibus?"
The word was completely unfamiliar, but something in Karlos' tone told him that now wasn't the time to ask questions. He swallowed his confusion and nodded.
He'd get answers later.
For now—he needed to move.
Despite the throbbing pain in his muscles, despite his body screaming at him to rest, Ethan forced himself to his feet and followed Karlos.
The two moved quickly, their footsteps light but urgent, their breaths controlled but heavy. And then—they saw it.
A cabin.
It stood in the middle of this unnatural place, looking out of place, eerie, like something that shouldn't exist. There was no reason for it to be here.
No structure, no logic.
It was just… there.
Karlos pointed at it.
Karlos: "That cabin is a safe point for us. Get in there."
Ethan: "...Alright..."
His voice held hesitation, but he didn't argue.
Something about the cabin felt wrong.
Like it was placed there deliberately.
But right now, it didn't matter.
Right now—it was shelter.
They carefully stepped inside, their movements cautious.
As the door creaked shut behind them, Karlos finally let out a breath and sat down.
He gestured for Ethan to do the same.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, there was a moment of stillness. But Ethan knew—it wouldn't last long.
Ethan and Karlos sat down.
For a moment, neither spoke.
The room was quiet, but not peaceful—just heavy, awkward, filled with unspoken thoughts.
Neither of them knew how to start.
Then, Karlos broke the silence.
Karlos: "Those people tricked us."
His voice was low but firm.
"They're making us play this… demonic life-and-death game. And we need to survive if we ever want to get whatever they promised us."
Ethan sighed, rubbing his forehead.
He had already suspected it.
Azerath. The Old Man.
Everything about them felt off from the beginning. Of course, this wasn't just some simple experiment.
It was something much, much worse.
He nodded, looking tired but unsurprised.
Ethan: "Yeah…"
Karlos leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
Karlos: "These people are crazy… but we need to get out of here."
His eyes locked onto Ethan's.
Karlos: "I assume you got the scripted information of this place, right?"
Ethan blinked, genuine confusion crossing his face.
Ethan: "What do you mean?"
Karlos's expression shifted.
For a second, there was a flicker of disappointment.
Then, he let out a small, amused smile.
Karlos: "So you don't…"
He paused.
Then sighed.
Karlos: "It's okay… first, have this."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small carton.
A sealed pack of almond milk.
He held it out to Ethan.
Ethan stared at it.
For a second, he wasn't sure if he was hallucinating.
His body was weak, drained, broken from exhaustion.
And now—Karlos was handing him almond milk?
Ethan: "This is… almond milk? Where the hell did you get this from?"
Karlos's expression didn't change.
Karlos: "I'll explain everything later. First, drink this."
Ethan hesitated for only a second.
Then, he took the carton from Karlos' hand, popped it open, and started drinking.
The first sip hit his throat like salvation.
Cold.
Smooth.
Refreshing.
He didn't realize how desperate he was until now. As the liquid flowed down his throat, he felt it— His body slowly waking up again.
His dry, burning throat finally soothed.
His strength returning, bit by bit. For the first time in what felt like forever, he started to feel—
Alive.
Ethan finished the last drop of almond milk and tossed the empty bottle aside.
A long, satisfied exhale left his lips as the refreshing liquid soothed his throat, eased his exhaustion, and brought him back to life. For the first time in hours, he felt like himself again.
Ethan: "Thanks, man... I really needed that."
Karlos smiled, his expression calm but reassuring.
Karlos: "It's okay. We need to work together to get out of this place, so we need to make sure we both take care of each other as we progress."
Ethan nodded, feeling something he hadn't felt since waking up in this nightmare —safety.
The overwhelming feeling of being lost, of being alone, of being trapped in the unknown had slowly started to fade. Because now—he wasn't alone.
Karlos was here.
A glimmer of hope sparked inside him, faint but real.
Still, a lingering question bothered him.
Ethan: "About the scripted information... what were you talking about?"
At his words, Karlos' expression shifted.
His confident smirk faded into a more serious, calculating look.
And then—he sighed.
Karlos: "About that… I already knew most people wouldn't be able to find out about it after I found it."
Ethan's brows furrowed.
Ethan: "Hm?"
He didn't get it.
What did he mean most people wouldn't be able to find it?
Karlos leaned back slightly, locking eyes with Ethan.
Karlos: "At your starting point… near your bed… there's a note. Under the cushion."
Ethan's body tensed.
His eyes widened slightly as his mind replayed the moment he woke up in that empty, yellow-walled hell. He had been too panicked, too lost in fear.
He never checked anything.
Never even thought to.
The first thing he did was run like a damn idiot, blindly searching for an escape.
And now—he realized something.
There had been information waiting for him this whole time.
But he never saw it.
Because he never looked.
A sharp wave of frustration hit him.
"How did I miss that?!"
"If I had just calmed down for a second—"
His fists clenched.
He had wasted so much energy, time, and nearly died multiple times— All because he didn't stop to think.
Karlos was right.
Most people wouldn't find it.
Because most people would panic.
Just like he did.
Karlos saw the frustration on Ethan's face—the way his jaw tightened, his fists clenched, his eyes filled with self-blame. So, before that frustration grew into something worse, he spoke up.
Karlos: "Ethan, that's completely fine… You don't need to stress about it."
Ethan looked at him, still tense, but listening.
Karlos: "Most people wouldn't have found it either. Panic takes over in situations like this—it's normal. Even I panicked when I realized how I got here."
Hearing that made Ethan pause.
Karlos… panicked too?
The same Karlos who seemed so calm, so in control, so ahead of everything?
Ethan's grip on his knee loosened slightly.
For some reason, that simple statement—
"Even I panicked"
—made him feel a little less stupid. His shoulders relaxed slightly as he let out a slow breath. He looked at Karlos again, his expression less tense, more thoughtful.
Ethan: "Yeah… but still. I can't make mistakes like this anymore. If we need to survive, I
need to be as observant as you are."
Karlos watched him for a moment.
Then, he smiled.
Because this—this was good.
Ethan wasn't just complaining or sulking.
He was reflecting.
Adapting.
And more importantly—he was starting to grow.
Karlos: "Good."
Ethan, feeling a bit more grounded, finally asked the question that had been on his mind.
Ethan: "What was in the scripted information anyway?"
Karlos chuckled slightly.
Karlos: "Good question."
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a slightly crumpled note.
Carefully, he dusted it off, smoothing out the folds.
Then, without hesitation—he handed it to Ethan.
Karlos: "I have it right here."
Ethan took the note, feeling a sudden weight in his hands.
Whatever was written here—it was going to change everything.
Ethan hesitated, gripping the rough, thick paper between his fingers.
It felt different.
Not like a normal note—coarse, aged, unnatural.
Something about it didn't feel right.
Still, he took a slow breath and opened it.
His eyes darted toward the first word.
And then, he started to read aloud.