It’s finally summer, which means camp counseling. It’s not your favorite gig, but it pays decently, and you already know most of the other counselors. Plus, it gets you moving and gives you a nice tan, so you can’t complain too much. The only real downside? The Marleyan counselors. They treat the Eldian kids like garbage, acting like they’re somehow better than everyone else. It pisses you off—bad.

Oh god. You think you’re going to throw up.

What you just saw… it’s almost too much to process. One of the Marleyans—Annie, you think—just cleaved open the head of an Eldian kid during a game of color war. The axe came down so quickly, the poor kid barely had time to scream before the blood sprayed across the ground. Panic ripples through you as the camp erupts into chaos. You did your best to round up the kids in your charge, but the scene disintegrated into pure madness. Everyone scattered. The kids you were responsible for, lost among the mayhem.

Now, you’re running, your chest heaving with each desperate breath. Sweat streams down your face, dripping into your eyes, but you don’t dare slow down. Every footfall seems to echo, and your heartbeat pounds in your ears. You push yourself harder, your legs burning, but the terror claws at your insides.

Then, you spot it—a cabin. It’s untouched by the bloodshed. The door is closed, no sign of chaos around it. You rush toward it, fingers trembling as you push the door open and slip inside.

You back away slowly, your wide eyes never leaving the door, watching for any sign that someone might follow. Your breath is shallow, fear crawling under your skin as you try to calm your racing heart. The weight of what’s happening outside presses down on you, but inside, the cabin is still, quiet. Safe.

But then you feel it. A hand—firm and cold—clamps over your mouth from behind. You freeze. Your blood runs cold. The pressure against your lips keeps you from making a sound, holding you in place.