Sarah and I exchanged a confused glance. Ryan's behavior unsettled us. He was a boy, yet there was something unexpectedly soft and theatrical in the way he carried himself.
Earlier, he had casually mentioned having a boyfriend, and the statement still echoed in my mind.
Before I could process it further, Sarah stepped aside. She was checking her watch. A faint vibration buzzed against my own wrist at the same moment, but I ignored it.
Instead, I focused on something more important.
"Ryan," I said carefully, "You mentioned that you saw light for the first time in two weeks."
He nodded.
"But the system said this was your first time being brought here." I held his gaze. "So where were you all that time?"
He spoke quietly. "An unknown house."
"How was it?" I asked.
"It was dark." He stood up slowly, as if the memory itself was heavy. "There was food, clothes… but no people. No voices. Just silence, and—"
A sharp crack split the air.
Ryan's body jerked. For a second, I didn't understand what had happened. Then I saw it—the bullet had torn through him from right to left. Warm droplets struck my shirt. He collapsed before I could even reach out.
My mind froze.
I turned to my right. A figure stood there, dressed entirely in black. A cap. A mask. Gloves. Every inch of him hidden except his eyes—cold and unreadable. A gun rested steadily in his hand.
I couldn't breathe.
The world felt distant, muffled, unreal.
Suddenly, Sarah pulled me back. Her hands were trembling. She stepped in front of me as if shielding me from the sight. I felt her fingers wrap around my wrist. I couldn't move. My body refused to respond.
My vision blurred. My head spun violently, like something twisting inside it. I was slipping away.
Sarah's face came closer. Worried, she held my cheeks carefully, her thumbs brushing just beneath my eyes.
"Stay with me," she whispered.
I felt her adjusting something on the watch around my wrist, her movements quick but careful. I couldn't focus on what she was doing.
She shook me lightly. "Wake up," she said, "Look at me. You're okay. I'm here."
Her hand tightened around mine. "Don't worry," she said softly, almost like a promise. "Everything is going to be okay."
In a moment of chaos, her voice was the only thing trying hard enough to keep me conscious.
The pain in my head kept growing, spreading like a crack through glass. I could feel myself fading. The world around me blurred at the edges, sounds stretching into distant echoes.
With what little strength I had left, I lifted my hand and touched hers—barely more than a whisper of contact. My fingers trembled against her skin, weak, uncertain.
I wanted to say something. Anything.
But the darkness moved faster.
My knees gave out, and I collapsed. Sarah tried to catch me, her arms wrapping around me too late to stop the fall. I felt her hands gripping my shoulders, desperate not to let me slip away.
Everything was sinking.
Just a second before unconsciousness claimed me, I heard her voice break through the noise.
"Mahmud—!"
It wasn't just loud. It wasn't just worried. It carried something deeper—something that trembled beneath fear, something unspoken yet fiercely alive.
Her voice followed me into the dark.
And though my eyes closed before I could understand it fully, the way she held me, the way my name left her lips, told a truth far stronger than any confession ever could—one that didn't need a name to be felt, only a heart brave enough to recognize it.
(Okay this is getting too much harder. Let me make it funny and easier)
Time passed. How much? No idea. I was completely out.
When I finally woke up, the sun was aggressively attacking me like it had a personal problem. Its rays were burning my face. I tried to open my eyes, but they refused to cooperate—until a shadow blocked the sunlight.
Ah, thank you, kind hero.
I blinked a few times. "Sarah?" I thought.
Nope.
Some random guy I had never seen before was standing over me, staring as if I had just fallen from the sky. Not a friendly stare either. More like the "Should we be concerned?" kind.
I slowly turned my head.
Oh.
There wasn't just one shadow. There were many. A whole audience. Boys and girls around my age, all staring at me like I was a rare species discovered in the wild.
Wonderful. I wake up from near death and now I'm an exhibition.
Whatever. I'm professionally skilled at ignoring things. If ignoring were an Olympic sport, I'd at least win bronze.
Then a very important question hit me.
Where is Sarah? I looked to my left.
She was right there. She was holding me.
Her arm was wrapped around my waist, one hand resting gently over my stomach, the other supporting me from below. I was practically leaning into her like I had a lifetime membership.
Oh.
Oh no.
Now I understood the audience.
From their angle, it probably looked less like "injured boy being supported" and more like "romantic sunrise scene nobody asked to witness." Sarah was laying over me.
Noticing what was going on, I woke her up.
My shadow was covering her face. She opened her eyes easily. Her grip tightened slightly, protective, warm. "You're okay," she said softly.
And somehow, despite the crowd, the embarrassment, and the sun trying to roast me alive… I didn't mind staying exactly where I was.
It took her a second to realize how this looked—but at least she realized it faster than I did.
Her eyes widened slightly. Then, in record time, she pulled her hands away from my waist like she had just remembered the existence of personal space. She stepped back, smoothing her clothes as if nothing had happened.
I quickly stood up too—maybe a little too quickly. The world tilted for a moment, but I pretended it didn't. Dignity first, dizziness later.
We both stood there, side by side, suddenly very interested in absolutely nothing.
The crowd slowly lost interest. Disappointing for them, I guess. The morning romance show had officially ended.
"Good to see you're okay," she said, a small breath of relief escaping her. "Our timer ended, and the hunter started hunting. He got Ryan. Poor boy."
"Yeah… whatever," I muttered, still trying to stand properly. "You saved me. I was basically about to die."
She gave me a look. "The hunter will kill you if your timer ends," she said calmly. "After every game ends, we get batteries to refill it for one day."
Casual. As if she were explaining homework rules.
I glanced down at my watch. 21:26:38 glowed back at me.
So, we had been unconscious for more than two hours. Which means the whole "sunrise romantic pose" probably lasted longer than I thought.
I cleared my throat and straightened up, trying to look serious. I can't ignore my timer like others. The hunter isn't a joke.
He wasn't.
He fired once. Just once. Perfect aim. Right through Ryan's head. From what—three, maybe four hundred meters away? No wasted bullets. No hesitation.
That wasn't luck. That was precision.
I glanced at Sarah for a second.
Yeah. If she hadn't been there, I wouldn't be standing here pretending to be brave right now.
I was starting to understand people like him.
Omar's voice echoed in my head, calm and steady, just the way he used to say it— "People aren't always bad."
Back then, I didn't believe him.
But standing there, alive only because someone chose to stay… I felt it.
Maybe he was right.
Maybe the world wasn't divided into villains and heroes the way I thought. Maybe some people surprised you. Maybe some stayed when they didn't have to.
I was finally beginning to see what Omar had seen all along.