Nico and I stay completely still until we’re sure the clicking noises fade into the distance. I don’t know how long we wait. Minutes? Hours? Time means nothing when death is listening to your every breath. That thing out there—whatever it is—has too many senses.

  Even the sound of quiet panting could give us away.

  Finally, when he thinks it’s safe, Nico slowly removes his hand from my mouth.

  “What the hell is that?” I whisper, my voice low but sharp.

  He exhales, still tense. “It’s a demonic creature. Native to this mountain. Smart enough to trick you, strong enough to kill you, and worst of all, it controls the mist. So watch yourself.”

  As he crouches down to gather the scattered supplies, I find myself studying him. Something about him feels… off. First of all, he isn’t injured. Not a single scratch. Sure, his clothes are soaked in blood, but none of it is his.

  I know that for sure.

  Typical Nico. We call him the Sneaky Genius, though honestly, I don’t like geniuses. Or smartasses in general. They’re too unpredictable, too dangerous, and most importantly, hard to trick.

  And Nico? He’s all of that. I wouldn’t put it past him to abandon the others if it means saving his own skin.

  Then again, maybe that’s why we make such a perfect pair.

  “Were they with you?” I ask.

  “Yes,” he answers quickly. He’s still staring at me like he doesn’t believe I’m real.

  Well. Technically, I’ve already died once, so I understand his expression. Gosh… were my chances of staying alive really that low?

  “I’ve been looking for a way out since we arrived,” he says. “The others were killed while I was surveying the landscape.”

  That’s a clear lie. He hid and studied the creature while it tore the others apart. That’s why he knows its patterns—the clicking noises it makes and the fact that its vision is terrible.

  I wasn’t born yesterday. But I play along because it’s the only way I can use him. He might not be Devon or even the second strongest, but his potion worked, so right now, he’s much stronger than me. He can fight, and his intelligence numbers were reported as extraordinary.

  I won’t rely too much on that intelligence, though. I’m sure the moment things turn bad, he’ll stab me in the back. I’ll go back in time when he does, of course—but I really don’t want to relive everything right now.

  I also need to figure out how this time reversal thing works. For example, if I’m to die here, will I return to the flower field? Or will I wake up somewhere in the fog? The exact mechanics of how far back I go are still a mystery.

  I should keep a timer of sorts to understand how far back I travel when I die.

  If I die, that is.

  “Were you alone?” he asks.

  “Yes.” I nod. “I appeared in the ash-covered wastelands just outside this territory and followed the landmarks just like we’re taught. I’ve only encountered one hostile so far. Just some plants.”

  “Plants? You mean, like... sentient plants?

  I nod again.

  Nico frowns. “We haven’t encountered any sentient plants yet.” Then he makes that face he always makes when he’s thinking hard. “Where exactly did you come from? Can you point it out?”

  “I can’t.” I shake my head.

  I actually can. But that’s a waste of time. Plus, this is Nico we’re talking about—someone who would abandon his teammates in the name of gathering data. Like seriously, the guy just let his squadmates die.

  He’s not evil. Just painfully logical. He’s the type of person who’ll save himself first and justify it later.

  He sighs. “Fine. Then we'd better get moving. Is that spear the only weapon you have?”

  I glance at his sword, then back at my makeshift bone spear. “It is. You know the rules, so I had to improvise.”

  “I see. But that won’t be enough if we want to stay alive. These mountains are particularly confusing, especially in the fog-infested areas. Illusions... monsters... It’s only a matter of time before something finds us and tears us apart.”

  Okay. So it’s that serious.

  Nico’s reaction to my weapon leaves me uneasy. I mean, who wouldn’t be in this situation?

  “So I guess the only way through the mountains…”

  “…is by following the chasm and the fog,” he finishes for me. “The thing we’re looking for is beyond this mountain.”

  “You mean the soul we’re supposed to find?” I ask. “Why can’t we just kill that creature? It’s blind. What if we use the fog to our advantage?”

  My suggestion doesn’t come out of nowhere. There are ways to take down a sensitive enemy.

  “Sure. We can use the fog.” Nico shrugs, then shakes his head. “But you’re physically weak. I can sense your star ether, but I doubt your body can push this beast back.”

  He says it so matter-of-factly that it digs under my skin. His tone carries this subtle disappointment, like he’s already decided I’m going to be a liability.

  I swear by the constellations—if he dares leave me here to die, I will die, regress, and kill him myself.

  I don’t even notice my grip tightening until I hear the bone spear crack beneath my fingers. Crap. I let my anger get the better of me. If I don’t upgrade this into a Nexus weapon soon, it’s going to snap in half.

  [Nexus Points: 10/100]

  Ten. Not bad for a start.

  “You’re of the Dragon Pathway, right?” he asks.

  “Yes. I drank the blood of a dragon,” I reply.

  “Any blessings?”

  “One.” I lie without hesitation. “It’s from the Empress of Twilight.”

  “Nice,” he says, almost impressed.

  “And curses?”

  “No.” Another lie.

  Nico freezes for a moment, scanning the fog as if searching for something we can use to keep moving. “They pitied you, huh,” he finally says, forcing a dry laugh. “Well, I’ve got a curse. The Curse of Companionship. I think “they” didn’t appreciate my habit of abandoning people.”

  By “they,” he means the constellations. I don’t really care how his curse works, but I ask anyway.

  “What does it do?”

  “I can only use my true powers when I’m working with someone else.”

  Ha! So he can’t kill me. What a beautiful turn of events.

  “But I don’t care about that,” Nico continues, smirking. “You see, I was given an A-Grade potion—Shadow Wisk Serpent. It worked perfectly, and now I have some very interesting blessings.”

  Blessings?

  He stretches out his arm, and a strange black energy flares to life. It's shifting form twists into something new, reshaping itself into writhing tendrils that curl and tighten around his arm like living shadows.

  I can feel it—that's star ether, but its shape, its presence... it says something else entirely.

  “What is that?” I ask, keeping my voice steady.

  “A Nexus item,” he replies without hesitation. “Serpent’s Grip.”

  I take a step back. That name alone feels wrong. The aura it gives off feels wrong. You’re telling me the system just handed him a Nexus item because he drank a potion?

  No. This smells like Wall’s work. Nothing about our trials was ever fair. They gave each of us different potions to watch how we reacted, to compare, to dissect. We were experiments, has he fuckin forgotten that detail?.

  “What does it do?” I ask cautiously.

  “Venom,” he says flatly.

  One word. He’s hiding something. I can tell. Nico’s smart—too smart—and even he must know that getting a Nexus item this easily isn’t normal. For the system to bend the rules like that, there had to be a price. And I doubt he’ll tell me what it is.

  Without another word, he dismisses the weapon and turns toward the mist. “There’s nothing for us here. We need to keep moving, find the path out through the fog.”

  I hate agreeing with him, but he’s right. If anyone can find a way out of here without dying, it’s him. So I follow. The fog thickens, swallowing us whole. The silence feels heavy, oppressive. No beasts, no whispers, no clicking claws.

  We’re connected by a rope—something Nico conveniently had tucked away. He’s in front, sword drawn, clearing the way as we tread deeper into the white unknown. Our footsteps crunch against the cold, brittle ground, breaking the stillness of the fog. We speak in whispers—nothing too loud to attract the creatures lurking nearby.

  Nico tells me how toxic this place is for normal humans, but Wall designed us to survive hostile worlds. Our bodies adapt where others would rot. That’s comforting and terrifying at the same time.

  He asks about my star ether—how well I can control it, how much I can draw. I hesitate before answering, but there’s no point in lying now. I tell him the truth: my ether comes in bursts. I can summon it, sure, but I can’t sustain it for long. It’s wild and unstable. And it feels like I’m fighting my own body every time I try to use it.

  Nico listens, nodding, his face thoughtful like always. Then he says something unexpected.

  “Since your star ether’s unstable, but your combat instincts aren’t bad, I think I might have an item for you.”

  I slow down at that. “You have an item... for someone like me?” I ask, hope slipping into my voice despite myself.

  He gives a small smirk, as if amused by my reaction. “You’ll need to learn how to channel your ether properly first. The key isn’t dumping more star ether into a tool, but finding the right amount. It’s about precision. The more efficiently you channel, the stronger the effect. Poor control wastes it.”

  That’s... something I didn’t know. I’d been treating it like raw force, not something I could fine-tune.

  “But I can’t use large amounts of it yet,” I admit, frustration creeping in.

  “Then we’ll start small,” he says, adjusting the rope connecting us. “Better to control a spark than to burn yourself alive with a wildfire.”

  He stops and glances over his shoulder, his expression a mix of amusement and something more serious. “I guess I’ll have to teach you along the way. I figured it out myself—learned how to control it, use it when it counts. Killed a few creatures too. Earned Nexus Points.”

  “How many do you have?” I ask, feeling a little uneasy.

  “Hundred points,” he replies casually. “Not sure what they’re really for, but I feel stronger with each one. I think it works like EXP.”

  “Like in video games?”

  “Exactly.”

  I can’t relate. I have ten points, and honestly? I don’t feel any stronger. No stamina boost, no power surge, nothing like what games promised. I’m still weak even with this so-called system. It’s almost funny—tragic, but funny. This Dragon Pathway of mine looks great on paper, but feels useless in practice.

  “When do we start?” I ask him, a little more eagerly than I should. “I want to learn how to use Star Ether properly.”

  He lets out a dry laugh. “You’re way too eager, little sister. Tone it down a notch. Star Ether may be accessible to all Nexus Beings, but you can’t manipulate it without a magical item to channel it.”

  Then his voice lowers slightly, taking on a more thoughtful tone. “But I read something once. There are a special few who don’t need any item for channeling, despite being dormant. The system calls them Star Children.”

  “Star Children...?” I repeat, the words feel strange on my tongue.

  “Yeah. Before Wall started cloning us, his first major experiment was attempting to recreate the Star Children. They were supposed to be the perfect soldiers. Pure conduits of power.”

  That sends a chill down my spine. Because deep down, something about the word Star Children feels strangely familiar.

  'Of course I have.'

  I now remember. I have read about the Star children before. They're rare and a special type of Nexus Beings who are said to be favoured by the Creator himself.

  At the same time, Nico shows me his hand, and I watch as tiny blue specks of energy gather on his palm. He’s not shaping it, not controlling it—just drawing it out from within himself. Natural. Effortless.

  “…in the end, he failed to recreate Star Children,” Nico says, his voice quiet but firm. “That failure, his greatest disappointment—became the reason he started this entire project.”

  I narrow my eyes, tilting my head slightly to act like I’m suspicious. “You seem to know a lot about Wall. I’ve never heard him say any of that.”

  Nico scoffs, a sharp, bitter sound.

  “That’s because none of you ever ask the right questions. You follow orders. Dr. Wall might be our creator, sure. But we were taught never to question how the gods work. Like it’s blasphemy or something. But here’s the truth...” He clenches his fist, crushing the blue specks between his fingers.“…Wall isn’t a god. He’s just a Nexus Being who’s pretending to be one. And I’ll keep questioning him until the day I die.”

  That… is something I never expected to hear from anyone at Bloodhaul—except maybe myself. As man-made humans, we’re denied the right to think for ourselves. We’re meant to obey, to believe without question. They told us that becoming Nexus Beings was our only ticket out of Bloodhaul, our only chance to become citizens of Beta 3#.

  But is that really freedom?

  Obviously no. Most of us are driven by a false freedom, a lie they fed us since childhood.

  “You’re against him…” I mutter, still wary. He could be a spy sent by Wall to keep tabs on me. “You’re against Doctor Wall.”

  He smirks, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I’m not against him. I just don’t believe in his vision for us. That’s why I’m trying to find a way to break this bracelet and sever the connection with Beta 3# once and for all.”