Madison and Ava walked together down the carpeted hall, their footsteps soft as they approached one of the hotel's private bathrooms. Madison gently pushed the door open, revealing a surprisingly pristine and luxurious space — the kind of cleanliness and comfort that didn't belong in a death game or a cursed realm. A faint scent of lavender and citrus hung in the air. The tiles gleamed. A warm light reflected off the bathtub, and the steam from the earlier use still lingered faintly.
Ava took a small step in, her voice tinged with disbelief.
"Woah…"
"This is actually—"
"A phase?"
Madison gave a short laugh, brushing some hair from her face.
"Yeah, I couldn't believe it either."
"It's only been a few hours since I got here, but Noah told me everything about this place."
Ava raised an eyebrow, stepping closer toward the window where sunlight bathed the bathroom in gold.
"Is there… some sort of catch?"
Madison's smile faded as her gaze drifted toward the horizon outside — the sky a perfect, brilliant blue with soft clouds stretching like painted brushstrokes.She exhaled slowly.
"The catch… isn't honestly that bad."
Her voice carried an eerie calm — like someone trying to convince themselves of something.
Ava smiled politely, but there was tension behind it.
"What's the catch?"
Madison turned from the window and leaned slightly against the counter.
"This city… it's made to be flawless. Clean. Peaceful. No danger, no fear, no trauma."
"But there's a condition."
"It wants you to stay. Forever."
"No exit. No next phase. No returning to the real world. This place tempts you to surrender."
Ava blinked. Her brows furrowed as her voice dropped.
"Wait—so it's all… an illusion? A beautiful trap?"
Madison nodded slowly, her voice dropping with weight.
"Yes. But think about it, Ava."
"Think about what the others are going through right now. What we went through just to survive."
"People are breaking. Dying. Losing who they are with every phase." She glanced back out the window.
"And then there's this." She gestured at the calm skies, the warm breeze outside, and the comfort around them. "A paradise, pretending to be prison."
Ava fell silent, her mind spiraling at the thought.
Madison asked softly, "Would you rather risk dying in the next hellhole of a phase… or stay here? Live quietly. Grow old. Be safe?"
Ava didn't answer. She couldn't.
Because deep down, she wasn't sure anymore.
Ava couldn't answer right away.
The question Madison had asked still lingered in the air — Would you rather face death again, or stay here forever?
But Ava's silence wasn't just indecision.It was pain.
Her chest ached.
Because her mind still replayed that moment — over and over again.
Elliot.
The boy she loved. The one who smiled even in darkness.
His lifeless body.
His empty eyes.
The Warden's brutality.
The way everything ended with no meaning, no peace, no closure.
Ava swallowed hard.
"I don't know—" she finally said, her voice quiet and trembling.
Madison glanced at her, immediately sensing the weight in her tone. Her expression softened, and she gave a small, apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry for bringing it up."
"You're tired. Stressed. You've been through so much—I shouldn't have dropped that on you."
"Forget I said anything."
She stood up gently, brushing the back of her hand down her thigh, "I'll wait outside till you're done, okay?"
She was just about to leave the bathroom when Ava turned toward her, hesitating for a second.
"Wait—"
Madison paused, turning with a curious tilt of her head.
"Yes, Ava?"
Ava's cheeks turned slightly pink. Her eyes flicked downward before quickly looking away again.
She hesitated. Then asked, softly, awkwardly, "For how long have you… um… been that… big?"
She glanced down at her own frame — modest, average — before her gaze flicked up again, face flushed.
There was a beat of silence.
And then Madison blinked — startled by the question — before letting out a warm, surprised laugh.
"It's been a while," she said with a smile.
"Since I turned fifteen, I guess."
Her tone was light, unbothered, the kind of genuine laugh that made the air feel easier.
Ava smiled, flustered, and quickly turned toward the shower, her words rushed.
"Okay—thanks—sorry—I'll be quick."
Madison chuckled again, watching her duck behind the curtain like a shy rabbit.
She stood there for a second, amused.
"What a girl," she said to herself quietly, shaking her head.
Then, still smiling, she made her way to the bed nearby to wait.
Ava locked the bathroom door behind her with a soft click.
Her cheeks were still warm, the awkwardness of the last exchange with Madison lingering in her mind.
She turned the tap, letting the warm water flow into the tub. Steam quickly began to fill the space, softening the edges of the mirror in front of her.
As she looked at her reflection, her smile faded.
Bruises trailed her arms, her stomach.
Her nose was slightly crooked — a painful reminder of Victor's strike.
She gently reached up, wincing as she adjusted it back into place with practiced care.
A small gasp escaped her lips.
It was the first time in a long while she had really looked at herself.
She peeled off the tattered, dust-covered clothes slowly — layer by layer — watching them drop to the tiled floor with quiet thuds. Her fingers ran over the marks on her skin. Faint cuts. Old scrapes. A newer gash near her side. She traced them, almost as if trying to remember how each one had happened.
The silence was comforting.
She stepped into the tub, lowering herself slowly into the water until it surrounded her completely, the warmth easing the tension in her muscles. Her breath slowed. For the first time in what felt like days, she didn't feel like she was running.
She leaned back, resting her head against the rim of the tub, eyes fluttering shut.
The sound of the water. The gentle aroma of the soap. The fading pain in her limbs.
For just a few minutes... she could finally breathe.
After nearly half an hour, the bathroom door creaked open. A gentle mist rolled out with Ava, her freshly washed skin carrying the soft scent of floral body wash. Her hair, now clean and untangled, fell in straight, slightly wavy strands down her shoulders—still damp, framing her face.
Madison looked up from the bed—and paused.
For a moment, she just admired Ava quietly. There was something ethereal about her now… something softened. Cleansed of blood and grime, she looked not only beautiful, but alive again.
Madison stood up, holding out a neatly folded set of clothes.
"I love your hair, Ava," she said with a kind, genuine smile.
Ava's cheeks flushed lightly as she clutched the towel tighter around herself.
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, but sincere.
Madison gave her the clothes and gently continued,
"Everyone's waiting for you now. I'll head down. You change and come join us for breakfast, alright?"
She turned quietly and left the room without another word, closing the door softly behind her.
As sunlight poured gently through the large windows of the dining hall, the atmosphere felt warmer, calmer—almost surreal after the chaos they'd endured.
Samuel sat leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a distant look in his eyes. He was freshly cleaned, wearing a dark hoodie and fitted joggers, the kind of outfit that looked simple but comfortable. The bruises on his knuckles were still healing, but at least now, they weren't caked in dried blood.
Owen, sitting beside him in a navy-blue T-shirt and sweats, nudged Logan playfully.
"Still can't get over you calling us intruders," he teased with a smirk.
"Thought we were the apocalypse or something."
Logan, now in a clean white shirt and cargo shorts, rolled his eyes but smiled faintly.
"You guys looked like the apocalypse."
He added quietly, "Besides… I know you're just trying to not think about it."
Owen paused, his grin softening just a bit.
"Yeah… maybe."
His eyes flickered down to the table, briefly haunted, then quickly masked again with a casual shrug.
Across from them, Jace was silent. His dark hair still damp from the shower, he sat in a plain black long-sleeve shirt, his hands folded together. His mind wasn't here—he was somewhere back in that hallway of Phase 10. The echo. The Warden. The look on Victor's face before he vanished.
Noah watched them quietly. Something in his gut twisted. These weren't the same people he'd known before they entered that tower. They looked like them. Sounded like them. But there was something... new in their eyes. A weight. A silence.
Then came footsteps.
Madison entered the dining hall, her long hair tied into a loose ponytail, her shirt now tucked into denim shorts as she wiped her hands on a napkin. Her presence brought a warm sort of gravity with it—confident, calm, and oddly grounding.
She looked over the table, making a quick mental count.
"Breakfast's ready," she said with a smile." Just waiting on Ava now."
Everyone looked toward the hallway instinctively.
And for just a second, the room held its breath.
A few minutes later, soft footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Ava stepped into the dining hall.
Her hair was still slightly damp, cascading down in soft waves, and her new outfit—an off-shoulder beige top paired with dark jeans—fit her just right, subtle but flattering. Clean, fresh, and glowing after her shower, she looked like a different person from the one who'd been covered in blood and dust just an hour ago.
The room paused, attention shifting toward her.
"Hey, you look really nice," Noah said, smiling with genuine warmth.
"Yeah," Owen added with a grin. "The outfit suits you."
Even Jace, who rarely offered praise, gave her a quiet nod of approval.
Ava blushed lightly, smiling at them—but her eyes drifted toward Samuel.
He hadn't looked up.
Still leaning back in his chair, arms folded, gaze locked on some invisible point on the wall, Samuel hadn't even noticed she entered. His mind was far away, lost in echoes she couldn't reach.
She stood there for just a second longer, waiting.
Wanting.
But the moment never came.
Ava bit the inside of her cheek, pushing the sting of disappointment down. She didn't want to make it awkward, not in front of everyone. Quietly, she walked over and sat beside Madison, who offered her a soft, reassuring smile.
The warmth of the dining hall returned, and with all members now gathered, the clinking of cutlery and dishes signaled the start of breakfast
The scent of warm oatmeal, toast, and eggs filled the air as everyone settled in.
The clinking of cutlery and soft chatter filled the silence that had gripped the group for far too long. For the first time in what felt like days, they were eating a real meal in peace—no blood, no screaming, no countdown timer. Just a moment of calm.
That's when Samuel, who hadn't spoken since they sat down, finally did.
His voice was calm. Too calm.
Completely flat.
"So, Madison. Logan."
"Which phase did you guys come from?"
His tone caught everyone off guard. It wasn't angry—just hollow. Not the usual Samuel who cracked dry jokes or tried to keep the group together with quiet optimism. This voice felt… disconnected.
Madison blinked, startled, then quickly answered.
"We came from Phase 6."
Owen raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? Was it hard?"
"No, not really," Madison replied, shaking her head. "It was peaceful, actually. Mostly scary illusions, but nothing dangerous. We got out easily… and then found ourselves here."
Owen nodded slowly.
"Lucky you."
Logan spoke up, perhaps to contribute or maybe to clear the tension.
"The difficulty rating said 4.9 out of 100."
At that, Samuel stirred slightly.
"Oh right…" he murmured.
"Phase difficulties."
His tone didn't change. Still flat. Still distant.
Ava, sitting across from him, noticed it. The subtle drop in his shoulders. The cold look in his eyes. Something in him had changed—something big.
But Owen and Jace didn't notice. Owen was already halfway through his second helping, and Jace was quietly chewing, his mind clearly somewhere else.
"Do all phases have a rating?" Noah asked, trying to understand.
"Because no one told me anything about that when I was here."
"They do," Owen replied. "Each one has a difficulty score."
Jace finally spoke, his voice low.
"Phase 10's rating was 15.4/100 when we went in."
That drew silence across the table for a moment.
Everyone went quiet again. Logan looked a little uneasy.
Noah spoke, trying to keep the mood from sinking.
"Well… at least you made it back. And we're all together now."
Samuel didn't respond. His fingers tapped idly on the side of his bowl.
Ava looked at him for another second before quietly returning to her food. The way he spoke, the lack of emotion—it wasn't just exhaustion. It was deeper than that.
Something in Samuel had cracked in Phase 10.
But for now, none of them knew how deep it went.
And that was how breakfast ended—quietly, with a few empty plates and far too many heavy thoughts.