Snap!

  With a flick of Mr. James' fingers, the world vanished. No warning. No countdown. Just gone. We looked down. There was no ground.

  "Oui?" My eyes widened. I flapped my arms instinctively, trying to fly. "The ground is missing?!!"

  "Uweeee!" Rona laughed.

  We dropped.

  CRASH!

  Cold stone slammed into us. Dust filled my nose. The familiar stale smell told me everything. We were back in the dungeon holding chamber.

  "Ugh! That hurts!" Isaac groaned, clutching his back. "Couldn't he just teleport us? Why does he always make the ground disappear?!"

  I didn't bother getting up. Face planted on the ground, I groaned and rolled onto my back with all the enthusiasm of a dying sloth. "There's nothing on the ceiling." I sniffed my clothes. "No dung either." I smiled. Peace.

  Trauma had lost its grip on me. After everything I'd been through, getting slammed into stone barely registered. Compared to being sprayed with worm filth, this was comfort.

  Rona, meanwhile, skipped around the chamber like she'd just returned from a festival.

  "Fun. Fun. Fun. I had lots of fun. Food. Food. Food. I tried so many different foods~."

  She spun and hummed, bright and cheerful in a place soaked with blood.

  "Isaac," I said lazily. "Chill a bit, would you? Try to be like Rona."

  He stared at her, annoyed. "If I was 1 year old, maybe."

  I pointed at him like a disappointed mother. "If this is the clean freak talking again, I will give you a good whack. I need peace. Don't piss me off." I glared as hard as I could.

  He shut up immediately. Smart choice.

  A few hours passed in awkward silence.

  Then the new arrivals appeared.

  Kids. Maybe ten. Maybe twenty. They stumbled into our dungeon like survivors from a warzone. Covered in dirt. Some were stained with blood. A few cried for their parents. Others stared ahead blankly with empty eyes. Some crouched in corners, watching everything carefully, like trapped animals.

  More lost souls.

  "...I don't remember seeing them before," I murmured.

  Isaac nodded. "They might be from the other dungeons."

  "Other dungeons?"

  He tilted his head. "You think it was just us?"

  That made sense. This place felt like a twisted survival show, except no one sang. You just bled.

  "I don't watch TV," I muttered. "I wouldn't know."

  Then a scream tore through the air.

  "KYAAAH!!"

  A boy snapped.

  Pale skin. Bloodshot green eyes. Blond hair. Muscular. He wore a green tank top and long gray sweatpants. He slammed his fists against the dungeon wall, laughing and shouting.

  "IS THAT ALL YOU GOT? HUH?! MORE! GIVE ME MORE BLOOD!"

  We stepped back.

  "He's cracked," Isaac whispered. "Stay back."

  I leaned back slightly and whispered, "You hear that, Rona?"

  No response.

  "…Rona?"

  Isaac and I looked at each other, then turned back.

  She was gone.

  We froze.

  "…Wait. Where's Rona?"

  Step.

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  Step.

  She was walking toward him, calm and casual, like nothing was wrong. She spun once and held out her hand. "Will you be my friend?"

  My heart dropped. Isaac screamed, "RONA!"

  The boy turned. His eyes twitched.

  "Friend? I don't need any!" He shoved her to the ground.

  "Rona!!" I ran forward with Isaac. I knelt beside her, checking her arms and legs. "Are you hurt?!"

  "Nope!" She jumped up with a grin. "I'll make him my friend too!"

  Before we could stop her, she ran after the blood-crazed boy like he was a carnival ride.

  "Oui… she didn't fall for him, right?" I asked, horrified.

  "I do not give my consent!" Isaac snapped.

  I slowly turned toward Isaac, scanning him from head to toe. Had the trial damaged his brain? Should I join in so he wouldn't feel lonely?

  And that, I did. Where else could you find a friend like me?

  I placed a hand on his shoulder. "She's a teenager! She can make her own decisions."

  "Exactly! She's a teenager, not an adult! She still needs her parents' approval before she can DATE!!"

  He slapped my hand away and ran after her.

  I blinked, clutching my stinging hand. "Since when were we her parents?"

  The chaos did not stop there.

  I leaned back and closed my eyes, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when I heard something being dragged across the floor. I ignored it at first. Then it got louder.

  I opened one eye and turned.

  Isaac was dragging Rona by the collar. Rona crossed her arms, feet scraping the dirt, cheeks puffed in a full pout.

  Ugh... Give me a break.

  "What did you do, Shorty?" I glared.

  "Nothing," he muttered, still holding her like a misbehaving cat.

  I smacked his wrist. "Then let go."

  "No! She'll sneak off again to meet that barbaric guy!"

  I rolled my eyes. Sounds like an overprotective parent.

  Rona activated her puppy eyes.

  Isaac flinched. His pupils shook. His brows twitched. He did not let go.

  "I will not yield!"

  I dug a finger into my ear. "You sound like some crusty old man thinking his daughter's being stolen."

  "She is my daughter, and I refuse to let her go!!" Isaac yelled.

  "WHEN DID YOU ADOPT HER?!" I shouted back. This psycho...!

  After that, Isaac and Rona bickered nonstop. It was a spectacle. A cold war between an overprotective parent and a rebellious child.

  Rona claimed the far left.

  Isaac occupied the far right.

  The dungeon became the North and South Poles, with an invisible equator no one dared cross.

  "Wow," I muttered, laying the sarcasm on thick. "Who said global warming doesn't exist?"

  Why I stayed involved was a mystery even to me.

  By the fourth day, my patience snapped.

  "Will you two stop it already?!" I shouted, waving my arms. "You're terrifying the children!"

  I pointed at the other survivors. They were huddled together, flinching every time someone breathed too loudly.

  Isaac and Rona froze. They looked at each other. Then they pouted. In perfect sync.

  My nose scrunched. If they weren't my friends, I would beat them till pulp.

  "PATCH IT UP!" I yelled, cracking my knuckles. "Or I'll punch you into your next life."

  They jumped and muttered awkward apologies, then stared at me like scolded kids.

  "Good. That wasn't so hard, was it?" I said, teeth clenched. Arms behind, staring them down.

  They nodded quickly.

  "Next time this happens," I narrowed my eyes. "I won't be so kind."

  Their faces went pale.

  Satisfied, I smiled and patted their heads.

  They flinched together.

  "Good boy. Good girl."

  Eventually, peace returned. I lay on the floor again, eyes closed, listening to the quiet. Rona doodled in the dirt. Isaac sat between us, arms crossed.

  "Hey. Got a minute?"

  "No," I answered instantly.

  He continued anyway. "I asked a few people how they got here."

  I sat up. "Sure, you did, Mr. I-Mind-Everyone's-Business."

  He went quiet. Unusually so.

  Hmm? Why is he silent all of a sudden? He isn't pouting, is he?

  "Did his battery run out?" I nudged Rona. Rona stopped doodling and poked him with her dirty hands.

  Isaac's eyes snapped up like a switch had been flipped. Rona and I jolted. Don't tell me he got possessed.

  I grabbed a handful of dirt, hoping it would magically become holy salt, and sprinkled it at him.

  "Ah… sorry," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I was thinking."

  I stopped throwing dirt and carefully returned the remaining clump to the ground, smoothing it over to erase the evidence. If he asked who threw dirt at him, let's blame Rona. I nodded to myself with firm conviction.

  Isaac frowned and continued. "They were all kidnapped. Black suits. Government tags."

  My expression darkened. "So?"

  He looked at us. "What about you guys? For me… agents came to my school. Said I was charged with illegal hacking. I thought they were bluffing, but their IDs were real. Secret services. I panicked, followed them into their car…"

  He paused. His fist tightened, like he wanted to punch something. Or someone.

  "I smelled something sweet. Passed out. Woke up here."

  "Sounds cliché," I yawned. "What about Rona?"

  Rona perked up instantly and started bouncing. "Oh! My turn!"

  Her smile was as bright as ever.

  "I was walking back home with alcohol!"

  "What?!" Isaac nearly combusted.

  My brain froze for a second. What a way to open a story.

  "My parents gave me money," she said cheerfully. "They told me to buy alcohol and groceries. It was my first time going out alone, so I wanted to explore, but I came back quickly because they were home together!"

  My mind was still buffering on her first sentence. Then I noticed Isaac's face turning red. I patted his back.

  Rona continued. "There were men in suits in my living room. They were painting the house red! But they were really messy. Paint was everywhere!"

  Isaac's jaw dropped. He tried to speak. I clamped his mouth shut. "Let her finish," I whispered.

  "They said my parents had a surprise for me. They told me to go with them."

  Silence fell.

  I stared at her, unable to process a single word. My head dipped as I pressed my hand to my forehead. There's no WiFi here. My brain isn't connecting.

  "...Have you seen your parents since?" Isaac asked softly.

  "Nope! But this must be the surprise they were talking about!"

  Isaac and I exchanged a glance. Brief. Careful.

  "Surprise?" I echoed.

  She nodded eagerly. "Yeah! I got to meet Lil and Isaac!"

  For a moment, nothing moved.

  Something inside my chest caved in.

  My vision blurred before I realized I was crying. The tears came hot. I pulled her into my arms, holding her tighter than I meant to, as if letting go might undo the moment entirely. She hugged back without hesitation.

  Isaac turned away.

  He pretended to study the dungeon wall. Shoulders stiff. One hand curling slowly into a fist. But not before I saw it. The faint shine in his eyes quickly blinked away.

  Even in the dim light, it was impossible to miss.

  A rare cooldown chapter ;comedic at first, but darker underneath.

  Rona’s backstory adds a layer of tragedy, and the new survivors open a much bigger picture.

  Especially that boy with the bloodshot eyes, keep him in mind. He’ll matter more than he seems right now.

  Drop your thoughts or theories below; I’m curious how soon readers will catch the pattern.