The sun had risen higher in the sky, the air was cool and carried a faint crispness. They had left the other group behind, continuing in a direction they guessed the safe zone would be in.
The land around them had shifted once again. Sparse clusters of trees gave way to dense, towering forests, their canopies thick enough to swallow most of the daylight. The trunks twisted unnaturally, roots sprawling across the ground like petrified veins.
Some trees bore deep grooves along their bark, parallel slashes that definitely weren't natural. The group exchanged wary glances but said nothing, keeping their focus ahead.
The undergrowth had grown thicker as well. Strange plants lined their path—some with wide, waxy leaves that shimmered faintly in the dim light, others with curling tendrils that recoiled at the slightest disturbance. Here and there, patches of vibrant fungi sprouted in clusters, their bioluminescent glow pulsing faintly in irregular rhythms.
Ethan muttered something under his breath as he nudged a glowing mushroom with the tip of his boot. It twitched slightly before stilling again.
Maria gave him a sharp look. "Let's not test our luck."
Sam, walking near the back of the group, jotted notes as they moved. He gestured towards a cluster of thin, spiralling plants. "That's the third time I've seen one of those turn in our direction when we passed."
Lily's eyes lingered on the plants uneasily. "Hope they don't move any more than that."
The hours passed, the monotony of walking only broken by the occasional rustling in the distance—though whether it was wind or something else, none of them could be certain. They moved with purpose, but caution never left them.
Then, as they crested a small hill, Victor slowed, his sharp gaze scanning the horizon.
"Do you see that?" he asked, pointing towards a clearing ahead.
The others followed his line of sight. At first, it seemed like just another break in the thick foliage, but then the details became clearer—smoke. Thin wisps curled upward, barely visible against the sky.
A fire.
Fire meant people.
They exchanged quick glances before pressing forward, their pace steady but careful. The closer they got, the more details emerged—a campsite. Rough shelters fashioned from scavenged tree branches stood in loose formations, and figures moved between them, engaged in quiet conversation or tending to their makeshift shelters.
It was a larger group than any they had encountered before. Some were sharpening weapons—improvised spears and axes—whilst others sorted through gathered supplies. Their clothes were in rough shape, a consequence of the rough environment.
"They don't look like bandits," Walter observed, keeping his voice low.
"No, but that doesn't mean they're friendly," Victor added curtly.
Still, they felt compelled to take the risk.
Ethan took the lead, stepping into the clearing with his hands raised slightly to show he meant no harm. The others followed a few paces behind, staying close but not crowding. Heads turned at their approach, wary eyes locking onto them.
"We're looking for information," Ethan called out, his voice carrying a familiar directness. "Have you heard anything about a safe zone?"
A murmur spread through the camp. Some people exchanged uncertain glances, whilst others turned towards a man sitting near the fire. He was older, his face lined with exhaustion, but his eyes were sharp with quiet authority. He stood slowly, brushing the dirt from his hands as he approached.
"You're not the first ones to ask about that," the man said, his voice level but measured. "And I doubt you'll be the last."
Victor's expression remained unreadable. "So it's real?"
The man exhaled, glancing back towards the people in his camp. "It's real. You're within its borders now," he confirmed. "But don't expect paradise. It's a blank slate, a place to start over—nothing more, nothing less."
Sam's mind immediately latched onto the inconsistency. "If this is within the borders, then how is this considered a safe zone? There's nothing stopping the various beasts from coming here."
"That's a good question," the man replied, his tone uncertain. "While no one will be able to tell you how or why, those monsters are unwilling to cross into the invisible borders of the safe zone—hence its name. Like I said, no one can explain it.
Our best guess is that someone had planned for or somehow knew this kind of situation would occur and wished for this sort of safe haven to exist, giving us a proper chance at survival in this hostile world."
After the older man's explanation, Sam was left somewhat unsatisfied but helpless in the face of their ignorance about the inner workings of this so-called safe zone. Maria then took a step forward, her voice conveying a sense of desperation. "Have you seen children? Two boys—Isaac and Noah?"
The man's expression softened slightly, but he shook his head. "There are a good number children here in the safe zone. Some alone, some with family. If your boys made it... they should be part of another group here."
Maria's hands clenched into fists, her jaw tightening with barely controlled emotion. It wasn't a guarantee, but it was something.
Walter tilted his head thoughtfully. "You said we're not the first to ask about the safe zone. What's happening?"
The man's gaze flickered with something unreadable before he finally answered. "There's going to be a gathering later today. Someone's stepping up, trying to organise people—turn the scattered settlement into something more. A town. Maybe even the start of a new civilisation."
A chance to start over. A chance to rebuild.
Victor exhaled slowly, his mind already calculating possibilities and risks. "Then that's where we're going."
The man gave a small, knowing smile. "Then you'd best not stray too far. Keep following that path—the forest ends a little further in that direction. That's where the gathering is going to be held."
With renewed excitement, the group followed the path the man had pointed out. The thick forest slowly began to thin, the towering trees growing farther apart, allowing more light to seep through the canopy. The dense undergrowth receded, replaced by patches of open terrain.
The further they walked, the more the landscape changed. The ground beneath their feet grew firmer, no longer tangled with sprawling roots, and the scent of damp wood faded into the crisp, open air. Then, after about ten minutes of walking, they reached the edge of the forest.
The view before them was nothing short of breathtaking.
A vast, open plain stretched out as far as the eye could see. Rolling fields of tall grass swayed gently in the wind, their golden hues catching the sunlight. Distant patches of trees dotted the horizon, and a winding river carved its way through the land, its shimmering waters glinting like silver.
The land was open—vast and untouched.
Maria's gaze swept across the expanse. "I can't believe we completely missed it."
Walter nodded, his expression thoughtful. "If by 'it' you mean the lack of cities and signs of civilisation on the map in that wishing room. Then yes that was a major oversight."
Victor spoke next, as he assessed the terrain. "If you were looking for a place to build the beginnings of civilisation, this would be it."
Lily shaded her eyes with one hand, scanning the distance. "If this is where the town is supposed to be, they're really starting from nothing."
Sam let out a quiet hum, his notebook already in hand. "That means whoever is organising this... they're either ambitious, desperate, or both."
The group pressed on. The walk across the plains was different from the dense forests they had grown used to. There were no twisting roots to trip over, no sudden rustlings in the underbrush, no shadows creeping between the trees. Instead, there was open sky, endless land, and a horizon that stretched impossibly far.
As they headed towards the river signs of human presence emerged.
The gathering place wasn't a camp like before, nor was it a fully established settlement. It was something in between—groups of people scattered across the open area, some talking in hushed voices, others preparing supplies. Piles of salvaged wood and stone had been gathered in one area, whilst crude tents and temporary shelters dotted the landscape.
At the centre of it all, a few individuals were working together to construct something—a simple wooden platform, no more than a raised stand. It was rough, hastily put together, but it was clear that they intended for someone to stand there and speak.
A makeshift stage for a leader.
Victor exhaled sharply. "They really are trying to start over."
One of the workers, a man with dirt-streaked hands and a weary expression, caught sight of them as they approached. He straightened, wiping sweat from his brow. "Newcomers?"
Ethan nodded. "We heard there was going to be a gathering."
The man gestured towards the stand behind him. "You heard right. They're setting up now, should start before sundown."
"You need help with that?"
The worker blinked in surprise before nodding gratefully. "Yeah. Actually, that'd be great."
Without hesitation, the group stepped forward.
Victor took charge naturally, his authoritative demeanour kicking in as he helped to reinforce the wooden beams. Ethan lifted planks into place with surprising easer. Maria and Lily secured bindings whilst Walter and Sam inspected the structure, offering bits of advice.
Soon, they would learn who was bold enough to try leading them into a new future.
---
The world had fallen apart in an instant, and Richard Hale had wasted no time accepting it.
The first night had been chaos—screams echoing through the dark, people running aimlessly, calling for loved ones who would never answer. The weak had panicked, clutching onto useless scraps of their old lives. Richard had done none of that.
He had simply observed.
The world had changed. That much was obvious. The air felt heavier, like something unseen had settled over it. Most people were still in shock, stumbling through the wreckage of a world that no longer existed.
Richard had known immediately that only those willing to adapt would survive.
By the second day, he had found the first group of stragglers—lost, hungry, desperate. They had clung to each other like frightened children, looking for someone to tell them what to do.
So he had.
It hadn't taken much. A firm voice. A clear goal. We need shelter, supplies, and order. They had listened, because deep down, they wanted to be led. To be given purpose.
By the third day, they had a camp. Nothing permanent yet, just a collection of people who understood that following Richard meant survival. Those who questioned him? They had been given a choice—fall in line, or leave. Most stayed. A few left. Richard hadn't wasted time worrying about them.
And now, on the fourth day, he stood at the heart of what would soon become his town.