A group of people wake up in a video game world and are forced to work together to survive and find out how to escape.

Alone.

Chapter 26 recap

Panic grips me, sharper than the cold ever was. My heart races as I snap my head around, searching the shadows.

And then I see him.

Standing over me.

His massive sword is in his hand, its edge glinting faintly in the firelight.

My breath catches in my throat. This is it. It’s over.
“Please,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, trembling with fear. “Please don’t.”

He doesn’t respond, just stands there, towering over me like a shadow of death.
My mind races back to the castle, to the orb, to everything I’ve done to survive. To the chance I had to leave this place behind, to go home.

“I should’ve gone back home when I had the chance,” I say aloud, my voice weak and broken.

The words hang in the air for a moment, bitter and full of regret.

The knight raises his sword, and my body is too weak, too cold to fight.

My vision blurs as the darkness I’ve been fighting all night creeps in, and finally, I can’t hold it back anymore.

I let go.

Chapter 27

Warmth washes over me as I slowly start to wake up. My body feels heavy, weak, and aching all over, and my head pounds with a dull throb. I hear the crackle of a fire, its sound oddly calming, but the panic bubbles beneath the surface.

What happened? Where…?

Memories hit me like a wave—the monsters, the knight, the fire. He found me.

My eyes snap open, and the first thing I see is the fire in front of me, flickering and warm. The horse stands nearby, its dark eyes watching me with an almost unnerving stillness.

I try to move, but I can’t. My hands are bound, tied tightly with… Kaida’s sash?! The same sash she had lent me, now wrapped around my wrists, securing them to a log behind me.

I jerk my arms, but it’s no use. I’m stuck.

My breath quickens as I look around frantically. The knight isn’t here—or at least, I can’t see him—but his armor and cape are still where they were before. His helmet sits atop the pile, and beside it, his massive sword rests against the rock.

Why am I alive?

The question spins in my head, over and over again. If he caught me—if he went through the trouble of binding me—why didn’t he just kill me outright?

I glance around the fire again, searching for any sign of him. The silence presses down on me, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.

Did he leave me here alone? Is this some kind of trap?

I strain my ears, listening for any sound, any movement, but all I can hear is the crackling of the fire and the faint shuffle of the horse’s hooves in the snow.

I tug at the bindings again, testing them, but they’re tight. Too tight. My wrists ache from the effort, and I bite back a frustrated growl.

Why am I alive? What is he waiting for?

“Shade?” I whisper weakly, my voice hoarse and cracked. “Come on, buddy, I need you…”

Nothing. No response.

My head drops, resting against the log. Whatever the knight wants with me, there’s nothing I can do.

I glance over at the horse, and there it is—my bow and quiver, resting against the saddle. The sight of it sends a pang through me, but it’s not like it matters. Even if I somehow got free and had it in my hands, I wouldn’t stand a chance.

I tug once more at the sash binding my wrists, feeling the fabric bite into my skin. How is it this strong? Or… am I really just this weak right now?

My lips are dry and cracked, my throat coarse and aching, but the fire… the fire is everything right now. The warmth washes over me, soft and steady, soothing the cold that’s burrowed deep into my bones.

Despite knowing I’m screwed, this fire feels like a lifeline.

I stare into the flames, my body trembling as exhaustion starts creeping in again. The flickering light dances in my vision, and for a moment, I almost forget where I am. Almost.

I feel myself start to drift again, the warmth of the fire pulling me into its embrace. My body feels heavier with every passing second, my muscles too weak to keep me upright.

I should fight it, I think, but the thought is faint, like a whisper. My mind is too foggy, too tired to hold on to it.

The warmth lulls me, soothing every ache and pain, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I let my eyes close.

Just for a moment.

The crackle of the fire fades into the background, replaced by the quiet hum of the darkness creeping back in.

And then, I’m gone.

When I wake, I’m still in the same spot, the log digging into my back and the bindings tight around my wrists. The rising sun casts a faint glow across the mountain, the warmth of the fire now paling in comparison to the light creeping over the horizon.

I glance around cautiously, my heart pounding as I take in my surroundings. The horse stands where it was before, its dark frame blending into the shadows cast by the rocks.

And then I see him.

The knight.

He’s lying a few feet from the fire, his massive frame sprawled on the ground. His eyes are closed, his breathing even. Asleep.

I study him carefully, my eyes narrowing. He’s enormous—easily over seven feet tall, his broad chest and shoulders looking like they’ve been sculpted out of stone. The bandage is still wrapped tightly around his torso, faintly stained with blood.

He looks like an action movie star or something. A terrifying, medieval murderer action movie star.

But what does any of that matter? He’s the one who’s been hunting us. He’s the one who’s probably going to kill me—or worse.

The thought makes my stomach turn.

What does he want with me?

I bite my lip, my mind racing. Maybe he thinks I’ll lead him to the others. Maybe he wants to use me as bait.

I tug at the bindings again, desperation rising in my chest. They don’t budge.

He starts to move, and I freeze, my body tensing as I quickly close my eyes. Maybe if he thinks I’m still asleep, he’ll leave me alone. Or… something.

I don’t even know why I’m doing this—what good it’ll do—but I stay still, barely daring to breathe.

“So you found a way out,” he says suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence.

The sound of it makes my stomach drop. It’s different from before—not as cold and metallic as when he had the helmet on. It’s deeper, smoother, but no less intimidating.

“Then why are you still here?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy and sharp.

What is he talking about? My thoughts race as I try to piece together what he means. Does he know about the orb? About the choice we made not to leave?

My mind flashes back to last night, to the words I’d spoken in the haze of fear and exhaustion: “I should’ve gone back home when I had the chance.”

I swallow hard, forcing myself to sit up a little against the log. My body feels weak, trembling, but I manage to speak, my voice quiet and hoarse.

“I… I wanted to find my friend first.”

The knight doesn’t respond right away. I chance a glance at him, and he’s staring at me, his expression unreadable.

“You stayed in this place just to find a friend?” he asks, his tone sharp but laced with something I can’t quite place. Disbelief? Mockery?

I hesitate, my throat dry, but I force myself to nod. “I… yes.”

His gaze doesn’t leave me, and the fire crackles between us, filling the silence.

“You found the way,” he says after a moment, his voice quieter now. “In the castle?”

“Why do you care?” I snap back, the question slipping out before I can stop myself. My heart races as soon as the words leave my mouth, but I can’t bring myself to look away.

The knight tilts his head slightly, studying me, his expression still impossible to read. For a moment, he doesn’t answer, just stares at me like he’s deciding whether I’m worth responding to.

Finally, he speaks. “Tell me, what was the way out for you?”

I narrow my eyes, trying to read his face, but his expression is a mask, giving nothing away.

“Why does it matter?” I say, my voice sharper than I intend. “You said before that your way out is killing. If that’s true, then it doesn’t matter what my way was.”

His gaze hardens slightly, but he doesn’t move. “It matters because I’m still here,” he says evenly. “And so are you.”

I blink, caught off guard by the response. There’s something in his tone—an edge of frustration, maybe even desperation—but I can’t make sense of it.

“What do you mean?” I ask cautiously.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he turns his attention to the fire, his hand resting idly on his knee. The flames reflect in his eyes, and for a moment, he looks less like the monster I’ve been running from and more like someone… trapped.

“It means this world isn’t as simple as it seems,” he says finally, his voice low. “Not for me. Not for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I think, my mind racing as I watch him. What does he mean by ‘not simple’?

“We just had to choose to go home,” I say aloud, my voice quiet but firm, “but we’d lose part of ourselves in exchange.”

His hand moves to his chin, fingers brushing against the stubble there as he seems to think, his eyes narrowing slightly at the fire.

“You said before your way out was killing,” I continue, my voice wavering despite my efforts to sound strong. “How many do you have to… How many have you…?”

I can’t bring myself to finish the question, but he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t react at all.

Instead, he lets out a slow breath, his gaze fixed on the flames. “Enough,” he says, his tone flat, cold.

The word hits me like a punch, and my stomach churns. “Enough?” I echo, my voice barely above a whisper. “What does that even mean?”

“It means,” he says, finally turning his piercing gaze back to me, “that I’ve done what I had to. Just as you’ll do what you have to, eventually.”

“I’m nothing like you,” I snap, the words flying out of me before I can think.

His expression doesn’t change, but there’s something in his eyes—something that makes my chest tighten.

“We all do what’s necessary to survive!” he snaps, his voice rising with anger. “You think you’d do anything different if you were given that as your only way to escape?!”

The firelight flickers across his face, making him look even more menacing, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I’ve pissed him off, no doubt about it.

But I refuse to back down.

“I don’t know how you found out ‘your way,’” I shoot back, my own voice shaking with frustration. “But you shouldn’t have believed it! Why would you believe anything this place says or does, when you were forced here just like me?”

He leans forward slightly, his massive frame towering over me even as he sits. His piercing eyes bore into mine, and for a moment, I think he’s going to lash out.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, his lips curl into a bitter smirk. “Because I’ve seen what happens when you don’t play by the rules,” he says darkly. “When you try to fight back against this world instead of bending to it.”

“And what happens?” I challenge, despite the fear clawing at my throat.

His smirk fades, and his gaze grows colder. “You lose. Everything.”

The weight of his words settles over me, heavy and suffocating. I want to argue, to tell him he’s wrong, but the conviction in his voice makes me hesitate.

What does he mean? What has he seen?

“My role is different than yours,” he says, his voice cold and unwavering. “You would do the exact same as me, given the circumstances.”

I clench my jaw, my body trembling from anger, fear, and exhaustion. He thinks I’d be like him? That I’d kill people just to save myself?

“Then why didn’t you just kill me already?” I snap, my voice sharper than I intended. “If you’re so convinced that killing people is your only way out, why am I alive?”

His gaze narrows, his jaw tightening as he studies me. For a moment, there’s silence, the crackling fire the only sound between us.

“I could have,” he says finally, his tone calm but edged with something I can’t quite place. “I still could.”

The words send a chill down my spine, but I force myself to hold his gaze.

“Then why didn’t you?” I press, my voice quieter but no less determined. “What’s stopping you?”

He leans back slightly, his eyes still locked on mine. “Because you’re different,” he says after a long pause. “You found the way. I need to know what you saw.”

The way… The orb. The choice.

I feel my heart skip a beat, my mind racing. Does he want to know because he’s desperate to escape? Or because he wants to stop us from using it?

“And if I don’t tell you?” I ask cautiously, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You will tell me,” he says, his tone calm but with an undercurrent of menace, “because I’m going to let you live.”

I narrow my eyes, my hands still straining against the bindings. “Why should I trust you?” I say, my voice cold and steady despite the fear crawling up my spine. “All you’ve done is try to kill me.”

He doesn’t flinch at my accusation, doesn’t deny it. He just sits there, watching me with an unreadable expression.

“Why do you even want to know?” I press, the words spilling out before I can stop myself. “You said that your way out is by killing. So why does it matter what I saw?”

The fire crackles between us, and for a moment, the only sound is the wind howling faintly through the mountains.

“I want to know,” he says finally, his voice low and deliberate, “because if there’s a way out that doesn’t involve spilling more blood, I need to know what it is.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air, and for a second, I’m stunned.

He’s… looking for another way?

“You don’t care about finding another way out,” I say, my tone laced with disbelief. “You’ve made it clear you’ll do whatever it takes, no matter who you hurt.”

His eyes narrow, a flicker of something—anger? Shame?—crossing his face. “I’ve done what I’ve had to,” he says through gritted teeth. “But don’t think for a second I’ve enjoyed it.”

I stare at him, trying to process what he’s saying, but it’s like my brain refuses to connect the dots.

“If that’s true,” I say slowly, “then why not stop? Why keep doing it?”

“Because stopping means dying in this place,” he snaps, his voice sharp and bitter. “It means giving up everything.”

He leans closer, his eyes boring into mine. “So tell me,” he says, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “What did you see? What was the cost?”

Even if he just did what he thought he had to, there’s no telling how many people he’s killed. How much blood is on his hands? Does someone like him even deserve to escape? To leave this place?

But do I even have a choice?

“Tell me, Artemis,” he says, his voice calm and firm. “And you can live.”

I stare at him, my breath catching in my throat. If I tell him, what’s to stop him from using it against me? Or the others?

I manage to steady myself enough to ask, “If you were so convinced your only way out is killing, why do you think this way would even work for you?”

He leans back slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. “I’m not,” he says bluntly, the firelight flickering in his eyes. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll go back to doing what I need to.”

The cold, matter-of-fact way he says it sends a chill through me. He’s not lying. He’s resigned himself to killing again if this doesn’t pan out.

“So you’re willing to risk it, just like that?” I ask, my voice sharper than I intend.

“I’ve already taken every other risk,” he replies flatly. “This is no different.”

I feel a knot tightening in my stomach. The way he talks about it, like his life has boiled down to nothing but survival and blood… it’s horrifying. And yet, there’s a part of me that wonders: Is that what I’ll become if I stay here too long?

I take a shaky breath, trying to focus. “And if it does work?”

He tilts his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Then I’ll stop,” he says simply. “Satisfied?”

The smirk fades almost instantly, his expression hardening again. “Now tell me. What was the cost?”

If he’s not lying, then either way, this helps me. He wastes his time and I can find the others, get far away from him, or… maybe he actually leaves, and we never have to see him again.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. This is my chance to shift the odds, even if it feels like I’m feeding a monster.

“There’s an orb,” I say finally, my voice cautious but firm. “At the top of the castle.”

He watches me intently, his expression unreadable, but I press on.

“It said, ‘The cost is different for each of you.’” My voice falters as I remember the chilling words it spoke. “‘You will not know what you are giving up until the choice is made.’”

He doesn’t react, so I keep going, the memory burning in my mind.

“For some, it may be the bonds you share,” I say quietly, my chest tightening at the thought. “For others, a memory you cherish. A part of your soul, your essence, your identity. To leave this world is to leave a piece of yourself behind.”

The fire crackles as I fall silent, the weight of my own words sinking in all over again.

He leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees as he processes what I’ve said. His face remains cold, calculating, but his eyes… there’s something flickering there.

“And you believe it?” he says finally, his tone neutral, but there’s an edge of something—doubt? Anger?

I meet his gaze, my jaw tightening. “What choice do I have?”

His eyes narrow slightly, and he sits back, his hands resting on his thighs. “I see.”

What’s going through his mind? Is this enough for him? Or will he press me for more?

“Does that satisfy you?” I ask, my voice firmer than I feel.

He doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze drifting to the fire. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost contemplative.

“Hmm. For now.”

“So, Mr… Knight,” I say, my voice trembling slightly but laced with sarcasm to mask the fear bubbling inside me. “You’re just gonna let me go now?”

He glances at me, the firelight flickering across his sharp features. His expression is unreadable, as always, and the silence stretches uncomfortably.

Finally, he leans back, crossing his arms. “Let you go?” he repeats, his tone calm but carrying an edge that sends a shiver down my spine. “I didn’t say that.”

I narrow my eyes at him, trying to keep my voice steady. “You said I could live if I told you. I told you. So?”

He tilts his head, studying me like I’m some kind of puzzle. “And what happens if I let you go?” he says, his tone deceptively casual. “You’ll run straight back to your friends, tell them where I am, warn them about me.”

I swallow hard, my stomach twisting. “I won’t,” I say quickly, though I’m not sure even I believe it. “I just want to find them.”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and the weight of his stare is suffocating.

“I’m not a fool,” he says finally, his voice dropping to a low growl. “But… I’m also not interested in dragging you around. You’ve given me what I need—for now.”

“So…?” I press, my heart pounding.

He leans forward slightly, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. “I’ll let you leave,” he says slowly, “but don’t think for a second that it’s out of kindness. It’s because you’re more useful to me alive than dead.”

I feel a chill run through me at his words, but I bite my tongue, nodding cautiously.

“Now,” he says, standing up to his full, towering height. “You’re going to leave. And if I see you again…” His voice trails off, and he doesn’t need to finish the sentence. The threat is clear.

I stare up at him, my throat dry as his words hang in the air. If I see you again… The way he says it makes my stomach twist, but I don’t let my fear show. At least, I hope I don’t.

“And how exactly am I supposed to leave?” I ask, glancing down at my bound hands. “Or were you planning on keeping me tied to a log forever?”

He tilts his head slightly, almost like he’s considering it, but then he crouches down in front of me. His size is overwhelming at this distance, his shadow stretching over me as the firelight flickers behind him.

“You think this is some kind of negotiation?” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t get to make demands, Artemis.”

My name on his lips makes me flinch every time. He pulls a knife from his belt, and my heart skips a beat.

“Hold still,” he says.

The blade glints in the firelight, and I have to fight the urge to pull away as he reaches for my hands. With a quick, deliberate motion, he cuts through the bindings.

“There,” he says, standing and tucking the knife back into his belt. “You’re free. Don’t make me regret it.”

I rub my wrists, the circulation returning painfully, and glance up at him cautiously. “Why follow through? What’s stopping you from finishing what you started?”

He smirks faintly, a cold, humorless expression. “Because I told you, you’re more useful alive. You’ve already given me the information I needed. And if it doesn’t work…”

I narrow my eyes at him, my chest tightening. “You’re using me as bait, aren’t you?”

He shrugs, stepping back toward his horse. “Maybe. Or maybe I just want to see how far you’ll get before this world breaks you.”

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to my feet despite the ache in my body. “You don’t know anything about me.”

He pauses, turning back to look at me, his expression dark and unreadable. “I know enough.”

Without another word, he grabs his sword, his armor clanking as he slings it over his shoulder. Then, with a quick motion, he mounts his horse, the massive black beast snorting and pawing at the ground.

“Go,” he says, his voice cold and final. “Before I change my mind.”

I don’t wait for him to say it again. I turn and start moving down the mountain with my bow, the firelight fading behind me as I step into the cold, unforgiving dark.

That was insane. Absolutely insane. I keep moving, not daring to look back in case he changes his mind. The cold bites at me again now that I’m away from the fire, but I force myself to focus on each step, each breath.

I’m definitely not trusting him, but at least he kept his promise for now.

Still… his words echo in my mind, twisting and turning, refusing to leave me alone.

“You think you’d do anything different?”

Is he right? Would I be willing to attack other people real people to escape if I were in his place?

I want to think I’d never do something like that. I want to believe I’d hold onto my morals, my humanity. But… my situation has been so different. I’ve had the others with me from the start. I’ve never been truly alone in this world.

But if I had been… if I’d shown up here all alone, no friends, no allies, and was told killing others was my only way out…

I swallow hard, my throat dry as the thought sends a chill down my spine that has nothing to do with the cold.

What would I have done? Would I have broken under the weight of this world, just like he did?

I clench my fists, my steps faltering for a moment as I try to push the thought away. “It doesn’t matter,” I mutter to myself, my voice barely audible over the wind. “I’m not alone. I have them.”

But the question still lingers, clawing at the edges of my mind.

How far would I go to survive?

Shade is still not talking. Still not helping me. If the knight had wanted to kill me, I’d have been completely helpless.

Stop focusing on that. Focus on finding them.

I close my eyes briefly and try again to sense the others, hoping to use Shade like before. But it doesn’t work.

Nothing.

I open my eyes and glance around, frustrated. I can feel Shade, the same constant presence in the back of my mind as always, but… it’s like he’s cut off somehow. The one thing I’ve come to rely on from him—finding them—isn’t working either.

“Shade?” I whisper aloud, my voice shaky in the cold. “Are you still there?”

No answer.

I bite my lip, my frustration and worry building. What’s going on with him? Why won’t he respond?

I shake my head, trying to push the thought away. It doesn’t matter right now. I have to find them on my own. I can’t waste time waiting for him to come back.

I look around again, squinting through the faint light of dawn breaking over the mountains. The world is eerily quiet, the snow-covered terrain stretching out before me. Just keep going down. They have to be further ahead. They have to be.

I force one foot in front of the other, my body screaming at me to rest, but I don’t stop. I’ll find them. I have to.

Looking back, I wish I’d eaten more yesterday morning.

Even after passing out and technically sleeping through most of the night, I’m exhausted. Every step feels like it’s draining what little energy I have left. I don’t know if it’s just everything from yesterday—the chase, the cold, the constant fear—or if it’s… something else.

Maybe something to do with Shade.

The thought lingers in my mind, unwelcome but persistent. He hasn’t spoken to me since the cave, hasn’t helped me since the fall. And while I know he’s still there, it’s like he’s less. Like something has drained him—or maybe us both.

I grit my teeth, shaking my head. “No. Don’t focus on that,” I mutter under my breath. “Focus on finding them.”

But the ache in my body and the fog in my mind make it impossible to push the thoughts away completely. Shade’s silence has never felt so heavy before. It’s like I’ve lost a part of myself, and without it, everything feels harder.

I stop for a moment, leaning against a rock to catch my breath. The wind howls around me, biting through my tunic and into my skin, but I force myself upright again. They’re out there somewhere. I’ll find them. I just have to keep moving.

With every step, the snow crunches underfoot, and I try not to think about how much further I still have to go.

The castle had kept Shade silent before—when it was testing me. But this feels… different.

It’s got to be something else. Something about those creatures. The ones he told to leave.

I shiver, the memory of their glowing purple eyes and screeching mouths flashing in my mind. They weren’t like anything else we’ve faced. And when Shade spoke to them, it was like… they knew him.

Unconnected, he’d said. Feral.

What does that even mean? And why did they listen to him? Why would they have wanted me?

I bite my lip, my hands clenching into fists. He’d said they’d been waiting for me—or him, through me. But for what?

And now he’s silent.

My stomach twists as I think back to the way he sounded. He wasn’t sarcastic or cryptic like usual. He seemed worried, maybe even scared. And now… nothing.

“Shade,” I whisper, my voice cracking slightly. “Please, talk to me. What’s going on?”

Nothing. Not even the faint, comforting sense of his presence that’s always there.

I shake my head, trying to push the fear down. It doesn’t matter right now. I have to find the others. They’re what matters.

But as I trudge forward, the questions keep eating away at me. What did those creatures do to him? And what does that mean for me?

I step carefully onto a narrow ledge, the snow crunching softly beneath my feet. Peering over the edge, I try to gauge how much further it is to the bottom of this path.

Not too far… maybe another few hours if I keep moving steadily.

But my legs are trembling, my breaths shallow and uneven. The ache in my muscles feels bone-deep, and the cold seeps into every corner of my body.

With how weak I’m feeling, can I even make it that far?

I grip the edge of the rock beside me, steadying myself as I sway slightly. My vision blurs for a moment, and I blink rapidly, trying to clear it. Focus. You’ve made it this far. You can’t give up now.

The wind picks up, icy and relentless, whipping my hair into my face. I close my eyes, steadying my breathing.

“I can do this,” I whisper to myself, trying to summon even a shred of determination.

But as I look back down the path, the weight of the journey ahead presses down on me. Every step feels heavier, every breath more strained.

Just keep going, I tell myself. For them. For Lyra. For all of us.

I take a shaky step back from the ledge, turning toward the path ahead. It doesn’t matter how weak I feel. I have to keep moving.

End of chapter 27.