"Talk about having a terrible day," Kyle clenched his teeth as he forced himself up.

  A sharp pain flared in his left shoulder where he landed on. It was like an organ beating with pain, but he paid little attention to it.

  "We really should've just stayed at home today," he groaned, hitting his shoulder gently like he was trying to slowly fix a bone back in place.

  He looked around, scanning his new environment. It was still the same island, so not much was different. But he had to make sure there were no traps in place. There could have been a chance that their ambush was planned down to the very spots they were separated to.

  He eased up the tension in his muscles, letting out a heavy exhale, "I have to hurry and find the rest.”

  Just as he took one step forward something instantly flashed in front of him. A palm, flat and fast, being thrust toward his face, already at point-blank range.

  If he wasn't much of a fighter, it might have as well been the end for him. At that moment, it was all down to muscle memory.

  He leaned backward, bending till he formed an arc as the strike sliced the air in front of him, letting out a gust of wind in the direction it faced.

  He rose up, stumbling backwards, feet sliding on dry leaves, and eyes wide from shock.

  “Hey, come on!” he yelled, his breaths coming in quick bursts. “I could’ve lost my head if I didn’t dodge that.”

  Contrary to his situation, the reaction one would expect from Kyle didn't match the current even taking place. His heart beat violently in his chest, not from fear, but merely from shock.

  He turned sharply and saw one of the masked figures from earlier. The man was staring at his own hand, flexing his fingers slowly, looking perplexed like he was trying to understand how he'd missed.

  Kyle exhaled shakily steadying his heartbrat. “I thought adults were supposed to be gentle with kids?”

  The man didn’t respond. Instead, he cracked his neck and dropped his hand and silently lowered into a stance like an athlete about to start a race.

  Seeing this, Kyle knew there was no room for a dialogue. His opponents goal was clear, fight, and nothing else.

  “Tch…” His lips formed a nervous smile. He slid a foot back and raised his arms in a tight defensive manner “Guess I’m not getting back to the others that easily, huh.”

  “I won’t miss next time.” The man finally spoke in a deep tone.

  The words barely got to Kyle before he charged forward, leaving a gust of wind behind him.

  Kyle flung himself sideways, dodging the blow by a breath. A second strike came from behind and Kyle spun under it, hands brushing against the dirt to regain his balance.

  “Tch, you sure are fast,” he muttered, his tone filled with an odd sense of intrigue. “But I thought you said you weren’t gonna miss?”

  The man didn’t answer. He simply continued his attack, gradually increasing the speed of his attacks.

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  He aimed another kick at Kyle's head, his leg moving fast enough to create a sound similar to a whip traveling through the air.

  Kyle bent back, dodging it with the heel of the man's foot brushing against the tip of the hair at his forehead.

  He dropped low, rolling beneath the attacker’s next sweeping kick, and popped up several feet away, chest rising and falling.

  From a distance, it might’ve looked like he was having fun, dodging and tossing cocky remarks. But deep down, Kyle's mind was somewhere else.

  His current opponent was not like the beasts he and Violet mostly fought. This was a person capable of thinking and planning, rather than just acting on instincts. And this person wasn't just trying to injure him, he was after his life. If he made one mistake, it might spell death for him.

  But he wasn’t scared of dying, not exactly. The smile on his face said otherwise. But he was also concerned about how quick he could regroup with Levi and Violet. He needed to finish the fight fast, but he couldn’t afford recklessness.

  "Looks like you're still missing,” he taunted. “Are you an old man under that mask?”

  The man exhaled slowly, his shoulders rising then falling with a slight shake of his head. “Just let this end quickly, kid…”

  Kyle chuckled rubbing then back of his hair. “You see, that's the thing. I can’t...”

  “Besides… why are you saying that like you can actually beat me?”

  It was brief, but a wave of irritation flashed in the man's eyes. He had noticed it too, but was trying to ignore it. The constant smiling and care free nature. It felt like Kyle was looking down on him.

  Despite all the attacks he dodged by a narrow escape, but the boy didn’t look tense. He didn’t even look particularly bothered. In fact, he looked like he was getting amused.

  It just didn't add up. It didn't feel like Kyle wasn’t putting up a front just to buy time or scare him off.

  The calmness on his face wasn’t from arrogance it came from confidence. Maybe he wasn't even putting his all yet, maybe he was judging whether fighting back was even worth his energy.

  The man’s stance subtly shifted, as he tightened his muscles.

  "This kid…" His fingers curled slowly into a fist, knuckles cracking like his body was just waking up. "I really can’t afford to let my guard down."

  ***

  They heard what Lian said, but their couldn't accept it. Their minds were in denial. Half of the kids were gone? How?

  Layla couldn't comprehend such tragedy happening while they were there.

  Even Lian who delivered the news was still trying to wrap her head around the situation. Or was she being deceived.

  Her eyes darted around as she quickly counted all the students. “They’re illusions,” she said quietly. “The students…”

  They all went silent as they heard Lian's words, confirming their fear.

  Then, as if a veil had been ripped off the world, to back Lian up, the students' figured began to melt into thin air like fog dissipating under sunlight. One by one, their shapes flickered and dissolved, leaving behind nothing but empty space.

  It was indeed a spell as Lian suspected. One that lost its effects the moment the victim was aware of it.

  The rest of the students shocked by this phenomenon staggered backwards, some tripping and falling with eyes widening in shock.

  At that moment, Reinhart realized. He felt like a knot was being twisted in his chest. So that’s what it was, the strange sensation he’d felt earlier, the faint changes in the energy around him that made him look at the students like they had committed a crime.

  It hadn’t been his imagination. The barrier’s interference had dulled his senses, made it impossible to be sure. But now, with the truth laid bare, it clicked.

  “Shit…” he muttered under his breath, his fist tightening. "I let my guard down.”

  His frustration towards this mistake grew as he thought about it. He should have known the moment Levi and his friends weren't as chatty as usual.

  Beside him, Layla stood silently, her eyes overtaken by a cold fury.

  "How many?” She asked.

  “Twenty,” .

  "Those freaking bastards!” she snapped, her voice loud enough for the students to hear her from where they were gathered.

  Twenty students.

  They’d arrived on the island and counted a total of fifty-five after regrouping with Lian. Reinhart had brought another twenty-two making seventy-seven.

  And now only twenty was left. Just like that. Exactly how could they let themselves incur such a loss?

  They’d assumed that being together was enough. That the worst was behind them. That Lian, as sharp and dependable as ever, would keep an eye on things.

  But they hadn’t stopped to ask if she could keep doing it—not in her current state of exhaustion. They hadn’t asked if she needed help.

  They’d leaned on her too hard. And it cost them one of the things they couldn't afford to lose.

  Layla’s hands trembled at her sides. She clenched them until her nails bit into flesh, drawing thin lines of blood that dripped slowly onto the forest floor.

  It wasn’t just her. The weight of failure hung in the air around them, sour, and suffocating. They’d all felt it. That bitter taste of knowing they should’ve done better.

  But underneath that disappointment burning hotter than guilt and sharper than shame was something else.

  Anger.