As I wrestled with the numbers, dazed and caught in spiraling thought, a voice rang out again. The same voice that had urged us to run before. Cold, mocking, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. It sank into my bones like a curse.
"Hello, howling cubs. I bet you missed me."
The forest froze. Every step, every breath, stilled.
"It's that voice again…" someone whispered, the sound brittle.
"First, let me introduce myself. It would be bad manners not to, since we'll be here together for a long time." A ripple ran through the silence, an invisible smirk behind every syllable.
"My name is Thirty-Five. Yes, I know what you're wondering—'the very digits 35?' Yes. You heard me right." The voice hushed suddenly, leaving the number to settle like ash in the air.
"I will be hosting you all in a game of minds. Those who keep up and adapt faster will survive. Those who can't…" The voice paused, deliberate, stretching out the dread before delivering the blow. "…will be eliminated."
The air shifted, heavy with unease.
"The first game of tag was interesting. I really had a lot of fun," the voice continued, dripping with amusement. "But let's change the game now… let's play hide and seek."
Again a pause, heavy, endless.
Murmurs stirred, leaves rustling under nervous feet. Someone scoffed, voice edged with disbelief. "He's calling it fun?" Another muttered in the shadows, "What's going on? Weren't we supposed to face demons? How come it's a game?"
No answer came. Only silence, broken by the voice once more.
"I'm not obliged to answer your questions," Thirty-Five replied flatly, "so I won't answer any."
My stomach knotted. To deal with Netherkins, one needs to be smart. Had the academy twisted the selection like this on purpose? Was this truly the exam, or were we part of something else entirely? A trap disguised as a test?
Whispers rippled. We had started to believe the academy had lied. Maybe there were no demons at all. Maybe this was just a mind game, an elimination through fear, through confusion, through pressure that never eased.
And so we listened.
"I'll share the rules," the voice declared. "If I mention your location and describe you in any way possible aloud, you're officially in the game. If I seek you, I'll kill you. But if you're strong enough to kill me first, you survive."
Across the forest, students reacted like scattered sparks. Some nodded, trying to rationalize, clinging to the hope that "kill" meant just elimination from the test. Others panicked, voices breaking, while some simply froze, unable to move or think, consumed by shock.
And then the voice echoed again, sharper now. "Now… let's begin."
—
Inside the academy's surveillance room, the air was tight with tension, the kind that weighed down shoulders and silenced tongues. Drosh and a woman stood rigid before the monitors, Haldris behind them, all three watching the tiny red blips each one a student's pulse on the screen.
The tension on their faces was carved deep. The woman, Ms. Zerra, stood wide-eyed, her lips parting but no words forming. Confusion bled through her expression as the cold hum of the air conditioner tugged at her long grey skirt and set strands of her brown hair drifting across her face.
Drosh finally broke the silence, his voice grave. "Did you notice that?"
Ms. Zerra gave a slow, uncertain nod. "I haven't taken my eyes off the monitor since."
Haldris turned sharply, the sound of his boots echoing against the tiles as he left the room. He strode quickly down the corridor, stopping at the headmaster's office and knocked.
"Excuse me, sir," he said as the door creaked open.
The headmaster's gaze lifted from the papers in his hand, his brow furrowing. "Yes, Haldris. What is it?"
"I think you'll need to see it for yourself."
Without another word, the headmaster rose from his chair, his expression tightening, and followed Haldris back down the hall. They entered the monitor room together. The headmaster approached the main screen, his eyes narrowing. The silence in the room was palpable, every instructor staring, every blip frozen mid-motion.
Another woman was already there, her presence sharp and fierce. She stood poised in a black suit, her frame accentuated by a short skirt, black net leggings tracing her legs. The buttons of her shirt were undone at the top, showing a smooth expanse of spotless skin. Her tightly bound pink hair danced faintly in the cool air, though a few rebellious strands had fallen forward, brushing her chin as she tilted her head toward the screen.
"Someone explain what's going on," the headmaster urged, his voice low but carrying authority, eyes locked on the frozen screen.
Ms. Zerra stepped forward, her tone cautious but firm. "Excuse me, sir. There are supposed to be two kinds of blips in the woods; red for the students, and green for the demons seeded in the forest. Each red one matches a student's armband ID."
She hesitated, her lips tightening before she continued.
"But since the trial began… we haven't seen a single green blip."
Drosh's deep voice cut through the tension, calm yet weighted with concern. "And worse… the red blips have dropped dramatically in just fifty-seven minutes. So far, sixty-three have disappeared from the monitor."
Ms. Zerra leaned closer to the screen, her brow furrowed. "While they all moved fast at the start… some haven't moved at all since. They've been stuck in place for far too long."
The pink-haired woman, Seraphyne, crossed her arms, her expression sharp. "Aren't they supposed to move freely until reaching the middle of the woods? That's where the demons were supposed to start interacting with them." She paused, her gaze narrowing. "But if you said there are no demons in the woods, then why did they run so fast at the beginning only to stop after fifty-seven minutes?"
"That," Ms. Zerra admitted, "we don't know yet."
The headmaster's face darkened, his frown deepening. "If there are no demons, how are students disappearing this quickly? Could it be a system error?"
Haldris shook his head, his tone firm. "Apart from altering a few rules of this year's selection, the rest has been maintained and monitored closely. Their trackers only vanish when the wearer's pulse dies. The same applies to the demons'. And one thing is certain, there are no demon signals in the forest."
For a moment, silence suffocated the room. Every instructor's thoughts circled the same unspoken dread: What is happening inside those woods?
And then another, more dangerous thought lingered on some minds like a whisper too heavy to voice aloud: Could it be the Ashenhive kid?
"Zoom in on number 263," the headmaster ordered suddenly, suspicion flickering in his eyes.
Haldris adjusted the monitor through a pad he held, his finger pointing at a still red blip. "This one here. He hasn't moved in a while either. He was among the first to stop while others shifted, froze, and vanished."
Uneasy glances passed between the instructors. That stillness wasn't reassuring, it was disturbing, unnatural.
"This is… serious," Drosh muttered, his voice breaking the silence. "Should we check it out?"
Ms. Seraphyne closed her eyes, her voice carrying reluctant finality. "I'm sorry to inform you, but the barrier was designed in a way that once the students are inside, it seals itself; no entry, no exit, until after three days' dawn. Then, it will open only for two hours." Her eyes opened slowly, piercing. "And the designer is none other than Loop Shinkari, the only one of his kind in the entire Shinkari world."
"What…" Drosh exhaled, caught off guard. Even he, seasoned as he was, hadn't expected that name.
The room grew colder, as if the revelation itself carried a weight that pressed down on their shoulders.
The headmaster stepped back, rubbing his chin, his gaze never leaving the frozen blips. "It's too soon to jump to conclusions. Keep watching for anything unusual. Either the system is broken, or something inside that forest is far more complex than we anticipated."
Haldris scanned the red dots carefully. "Some haven't moved for over thirty minutes. Could they be unconscious? Maybe trapped?"
"Or worse," Drosh murmured.
"Until we're sure," the headmaster ordered, his voice sharp again, "we watch. Every shift, every signal. Mark every blip that hasn't moved in over twenty minutes. Log every vanished one by time and zone. I want patterns, not panic."
The instructors moved with precision, their fear buried under protocol. The room hummed with quiet activity, the silence heavy but disciplined.
—
In the woods, the voice of the so-called Thirty-Five returned, calm and deep, slithering across the trees like a predator's call before the strike.
"Are you ready, howling cubs? Because here I come."
The forest held its breath.
"The first player will be… seventy degrees, two-point-five kilometers. I'm on to you."
Then a pause, long enough to stir dread.
"Long black hair, tinted glasses, a white-bluish shirt, short black skirt, and knee-high boots. No visible weapon. You are in the game."
Far off in that direction, a girl stiffened, her breaths short, her eyes wide. She turned in frantic circles, unable to tell from which direction the angle had been read, unable to tell where safety lay.
Then, without clash or warning, a scream ripped through the woods sharp, brief, then cut off into silence.
The voice returned, smoother, almost amused. "Oh… too bad. She couldn't challenge me. And now… she's out."
The words dropped like stones into still water.
"But let's continue to the next player," the voice purred, "I hope they challenge me a little."
A hush swept the forest. Confusion painted the faces of students. This wasn't the trial they were promised. This wasn't the demons. This was something crueler, stranger.
"Seventy-eight degrees, two-point-five kilometers. Golden hair, black leggings, black shirt, and a Moonspike spear. I'm on to you. You are in the game."
Two girls within that zone stiffened, their grips tightening on their weapons. Their eyes darted wildly, scanning trees, shadows, anywhere an enemy could hide. They braced, ready to fight or flee.
But they forgot this wasn't a battle, and it wasn't war either. This was hide-and-seek. And the screams… the screams didn't sound like fights. They sounded like snatches; clean, swift and merciless.
That was when unease sank in not just into me, but into everyone. The coordinates weren't random. If this was just a twisted game of hide-and-seek, then why angles and distances? Where was the initial point?
And then it struck me. He wasn't guessing or calling at random. He was calculating, mapping, measuring from a fixed origin point.
Me.
The realization rattled me to my core. Those were the exact angular coordinates Drazel had murmured before disappearing.
And then his words echoed back to me, curling around my mind like a chain I couldn't shake.
"Figured it'd be more fun with you at the center."
I thought it had been a taunt. Now, it felt like a warning.