Malik's departure left behind a silence deeper than any the forest had ever given them. Even the birds seemed hesitant to sing. Zara stood for a long time after he vanished into the trees, her hands clenched, throat tight.
Six left.
Six players in a game they no longer understood.
"Do you think he'll survive out there?" Efe asked quietly—only to remember Efe was gone. Zara caught herself. Her mind was fraying like a worn rope.
Jayden stirred the fire. "He'll be fine. Guy was made for this."
Adaeze crossed her arms. "He shouldn't have gone. We should've protected him."
"After he nearly punched me unconscious?" Jayden muttered. "Let's not rewrite history."
Seyi said nothing. His eyes were always moving now—scanning the forest, the sky, even the other players.
Later that afternoon, Lina found something pinned to a tree. A message, scratched with a knife into bark:
*"The game only ends when you forget it's one."*
Zara read it aloud. "Someone's trying to warn us. Or taunt us."
"Or both," Adaeze said.
They moved camp again—further north, where the trees thinned. Less cover meant less risk of ambush. But it also meant colder nights. That evening, they huddled around the fire with scraps of clothing and stiff muscles.
Zara couldn't sleep. She watched the others. Lina and Adaeze whispered. Jayden stared at the flames. Seyi polished his knife without looking up.
Trust was gone. Survival now meant strategy.
And then the wind shifted.
Zara caught it first—a scent in the air. Smoke, but not from their fire. Something burning. Close.
She stood, alert. "You smell that?"
Jayden rose too. "Something's on fire."
A red glow pulsed faintly in the east.
"Stay here," Zara ordered. "I'll check it out."
Seyi followed. "You shouldn't go alone."
They moved through the trees fast, low, quiet.
As they crested a small ridge, the scene came into view:
A camp. Burning.
Tents collapsed. Supply crates broken. Three wristbands blinking red on the ground. No bodies—just signs of chaos and flight.
Zara's breath caught. "What happened here?"
Seyi stepped forward. "Someone sent a message."
Zara bent down, touching the soot-covered dirt. The edge of a photo was half-buried. A girl, smiling. Someone who hadn't made it.
She stood slowly. "Let's go. We need to tell the others."
But as they turned, they heard footsteps behind them.
The footsteps were fast and light—too light for an adult. Someone young, like them.
Zara and Seyi froze behind a fallen log, crouching low as the figure came into view. A boy, no older than sixteen, limping through the smoke, clutching his side. His wristband blinked green—still active.
"Help..." he gasped, stumbling.
Seyi moved first, rushing forward. Zara followed.
The boy collapsed into their arms.
"Who did this?" Zara asked.
His eyes flicked toward the ruins. "We trusted the wrong person... she said we'd share the immunity."
"She?" Seyi asked, glancing at Zara.
The boy coughed. "Red hair. Fast. Smart. She set the fire... locked the tents..."
Zara cursed under her breath. "They're not just playing. They're hunting."
The boy's breathing slowed. "Don't... go back. She's watching..."
Zara and Seyi exchanged a quick look, then helped him to his feet.
By the time they reached camp, dawn was breaking. The others rushed forward, shocked.
Jayden stepped back. "Who's this?"
"Survivor from another group," Zara said. "He was ambushed. The others didn't make it."
Adaeze helped make a bed from old shirts. "What did he say?"
Zara hesitated. "He warned us. Someone out there is setting fires, killing in their sleep."
"Why?" Lina asked.
"Because now... immunity isn't enough. Fear is power."
The boy—his name was Tobe—rested, though his eyes kept darting to the shadows.
That night, as the group tried to sleep, Zara stayed awake again.
She knew what was coming.
The cold before dawn wasn't the hardest part of the game.
The betrayal waiting after sunrise would be.
—