“I have good news and bad news,” Luce said, stretching like he’d just woken up from a beach vacation instead of a lavender-scented coma in a death forest.
Avni didn’t even look at him. “If the good news doesn’t involve a five-star buffet and the bad news isn’t ‘you died,’ I don’t care.”
Everyone turned to stare at him — dirt-streaked, mosquito-bitten, mildly traumatized.
Luce shrugged. “Bad news first: we’re not on the Central Island. This isn’t Valgrave.”
A collective groan. Someone audibly whimpered.
“Good news?” Ishaan muttered, half-praying.
“We are… on an island.”
Veer blinked. “...Are you dumb on purpose or is it natural selection?”
Avni stood up, murder in her eyes. “You told me — you told me, Luce — we were in Central.”
“I said it felt centralish,” Luce offered innocently.
“You said, and I quote, ‘don’t worry Avni, trust me, I have a sense for direction.’”
“And I do!” Luce pointed at a rock. “That tree looks familiar.”
“That’s a rock,” Sayaka said flatly.
Lev, who’d been suspiciously quiet, stepped forward, rubbing his temple. “Can we not fight before breakfast? I haven’t even murdered anyone today.”
Avni threw a twig at Luce. “You want a body? Start with him.”
Luce caught it mid-air. “Careful, princess. You're throwing sticks now. What's next? Harsh words?”
“Oh, don’t tempt me. I have trauma and zero breakfast.”
Sayaka crossed her arms and looked between them, unimpressed. “They're flirting.”
Lev’s head snapped up. “They’re what?”
“We’re not—” Avni and Luce chorused.
“—flirting,” Avni hissed.
“—that desperate,” Luce added.
They glared at each other.
Sayaka smirked and walked away.
Lev stared at Luce like he’d just been handed a target with glowing red dots. “Keep talking. I’m sharpening knives with my mind.”
Saira sighed and muttered, “This feels like watching an Indian soap opera. We’re one slap away from slow-mo camera zooms.”
Dev, sitting in a nest of leaves, deadpan’d, “Pretty sure someone already added background music.”
Ishaan slapped a mosquito off his neck. “What I joined was a mafia training program. What I’ve become is Bear Grylls with parental trauma.”
Veer raised his hand. “Respectfully, screw this island.”
“Do you think they know we’re here?” Erik asked, still scanning the forest edge like a ghost haunting his own body.
“No,” said Saira. “Because if they did, they’d drop a care package.”
“Or a nuke,” Dev added. “Honestly, at this point, both would be helpful.”
Luce finally clapped his hands. “Okay, okay. Focus. We're on Caelthorn — not Central. That’s why the geography was off.”
“How do you know?” Sayaka asked.
He pointed to a dark mountain range in the distance. “Caelthorn has three ‘shattered ridges.’ Valgrave’s peaks are symmetrical. Basic topography.”
Avni muttered, “Now you remember geography class.”
“I remember everything,” Luce said smugly. “Except where I put my shampoo. I miss shampoo.”
Saira raised a hand. “So the plan?”
Lev sighed. “First, we survive. That means food, water, shelter.”
“And fire,” Sayaka added. “We’ll freeze tonight without it.”
“Fire?” Ishaan pointed at the sky. “Do you see smoke? Wood? A matchstick? No. All I have is rage and a protein bar that tastes like betrayal.”
Veer tossed a half-burnt leaf at him. “Try manifesting warmth.”
Saira ignored them. “Then at 8:00, we scout. The missing two — they might be on Caelthorn, or Valgrave.”
“Let’s check Caelthorn first,” Erik said. “Less movement. Safer.”
“And if we’re wrong?” Dev asked.
“Then we die slightly closer to home,” Luce quipped.
Everyone gave him a dead-eyed stare.
“I’m kidding. Obviously. Mostly.”
They broke into three teams:
Avni, Luce, Sayaka: For food. Mostly because watching Avni and Luce bicker was like dinner theatre. With knives.
Lev, Erik, Saira: For water. The emotionally repressed unit.
Ishaan, Veer, Dev: Shelter & fire. The comedy trio.
By nightfall:
Shelter: Half a tarp and a stick that broke.
Food: Three berries, one fish (Sayaka stabbed it mid-leap), and Luce’s dignity.
Fire: Ishaan tried rubbing sticks. Veer gave up and used a broken lighter he forgot he had. Dev cried tears of joy.
They slept in shifts. The night was cold. Mosquitoes feasted like kings.
By morning, everyone looked like they’d been mugged by nature.
Saira counted bites. “Thirty-eight.”
Dev scratched furiously. “We’ve been eaten alive. Is this part of the training or a nature documentary?”
Ishaan moaned, “Why did I dream of falafel if there’s no falafel?”
Avni threw a rock at a tree. “Let’s find those missing idiots.”
“Yeah,” Luce said, rubbing his eyes. “Before we all die of aesthetic failure.”
ns216.73.216.139da2
and then Add to home screen.