Chapter 2: The Echoes of the Past
The masked figures were deep in thought, their breathing still heavy and labored. Suddenly, one of them flinched, his eyes widening as an idea struck him.
"The Elder of the Islanders..." he muttered. "He probably knows the cause of this."
The second spy furrowed his brows, a hint of skepticism in his voice. "Won't he suspect us of being spies?"
The first and third spies replied in unison, "First of all, he likely already knows—he is the Elder, after all. And second, we are the King's spies, here on official surveillance."
The second spy's eyebrows shot up in realization. "Ah, I completely forgot we're working for the King now." He stood up. "Fine, I'll go."
But he hadn't even walked ten meters before his knees buckled. He collapsed onto the dirt, falling into a deep, instantaneous sleep. The others suddenly remembered: while they had slept through the night, he had been the one standing guard.
The first spy left the other two behind and headed toward the Elder's hut. He knocked and entered. Before he could utter a single word, the Elder spoke.
"A spy of the King, I presume? Come to ask about the pressure?"
Even though the spy knew the Elder was wise, facing the truth so bluntly sent a shiver down his spine. His eyes dilated, and he instinctively stepped back. He was caught between awe and a primal fear.
His mouth hung open. "H-how... how did you know?" he stammered.
A faint, knowing smile played on the Elder's lips. "Simple," he said. "You and your companions arrived with masked faces, gasping for breath, struggling to walk, and looking utterly bewildered by it. Moreover, you chose a terrible time for espionage—there isn't a single tourist on the island during this season."
The spy's trembling stopped. His shoulders relaxed, and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Fine. Then tell us... what is causing this pressure?"
The Elder's gaze fell upon a piece of pottery, cracked under its own weight. "By observing the stress on this clay, I have realized the truth. This meteorite... it is causing the island's gravity to increase exponentially every ten days. On the 10th day, it will be twice as strong. On the 20th day, three times... and so it continues."
His voice grew heavy, his expression darkening with a chilling gravity. "This increase will eventually lead to..."
Before the Elder could finish his sentence, the spy gasped, choking on his own breath. He broke into a fit of violent coughing.
A while later, the door of the hut creaked open. The spy walked out, his eyes fixed on the ground, lost in thought. He returned to his companions and shared the truth. A heavy silence fell over them as they contemplated their fate.
Walking became an agonizing task. Every step was harder than the last; their breathing grew shallow and ragged. Exhaustion pulled at their limbs like lead. Desperate to escape, they forced themselves to move faster toward the shore.
When they finally reached the boat, they had no strength left. They collapsed onto the wooden planks. Suddenly, a loud C-R-A-C-K echoed from the hull. They jumped, skins crawling with dread, but when the boat held firm, they slumped back in relief.
For several minutes, the only sound was their heavy panting. Once they regained their senses, they grabbed the oars. The cry of seagulls and the rhythmic splashing of water filled the air, bringing a fleeting sense of peace. They had escaped the island's scorching sun and its crushing weight.
Slowly, the boat drifted away, until they were nothing but a silhouette fading into the horizon…