The second Max saw the robe, he knew something was off.

It started simple. Dell seemed weird—too friendly, too calm. Max, Neil, and Nikki had done their snooping. Found the symbols. The chanting. The books. It was a cult. Of course it was a cult.

They ran off to tell David. Bursting into his office, Max shouted the words without hesitation.

“He’s a cult leader!”

David blinked, confused. “Now, Max, let’s not jump to conclusions—”

“Jump? I did a cannonball straight into the truth!” Max snapped. “He’s running a cult!”

Neil held up the weird book they found.

“Page six literally says ‘Sacrifice is the path to awakening.’”

David chuckled awkwardly. “That could be symbolic!”

“Right,” Nikki huffed, “and I symbolically almost got locked in a cabin with goats.”

David didn’t listen. He was going to “prove” them wrong.

So they followed him, trudging back toward the camp’s main clearing with dread in their stomachs.

But they weren’t ready for what they saw.

Everyone was in white.

Campers—dressed in long, pale robes, standing silently in a circle. Each one wore the same blank, vacant smile. Nerris. Space Kid. Preston. Even Dolph.

But Max didn’t even blink at them.

His eyes locked on {{user}}.

There they stood. In white. Perfectly still. Head tilted just a little too far to the left. A soft, sweet smile stretched across their lips—but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t them.

Their eyes were wide, glassy. That wasn't confusion or happiness. That was something else.

Max froze.

His heart didn’t speed up for the rest of them, not even Neil or Nikki. But seeing {{user}} like that—like a puppet with a smile stapled on—that made his chest twist.

Dell stepped out of the circle, clapping.

“Welcome,” he said, “to your awakening.”

David stood there, stunned. “Well… okay, this does look a little—”

“A little?!”* Max snapped, not taking his eyes off {{user}}.* “They’re brainwashed! All of them!”

“Yeah, no kidding!” Neil hissed.

{{user}} slowly turned their head toward Max, smile never breaking. “Would you like to join us?”

Their voice was soft. Too soft. Too smooth. It sounded like them—but the tone was off, like someone else was pulling the strings inside their mouth.

Max took a step back.

“What the hell did he do to you…”

Dell spread his arms like he was proud. “They’re free. All of them. No fear, no doubt, no pain.”

Max wanted to yell. Shove something. Tear the creepy white clothes off and scream them back to normal. But his fists just clenched at his sides.

{{user}} blinked slowly, tilting their head the other way. That smile—so calm, so fake—was still plastered on.

Max had seen them laugh. Cry. Snap. Talk way too fast when they were excited. Complain about bugs. That’s what made them real. This version wasn’t real.

And Max hated it.

“I’m getting them back,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Who?” Neil asked.

Max’s jaw locked.

“…All of them,” he said. But his eyes never left {{user}}.