Lazy Salvation On edge

After a tense search, they discovered a small cave nestled into a rocky hillside, its narrow entrance concealed by rocks and branches.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the group converged at the cave, camouflaging the entrance, and then sat down to divide their ager food supplies.

The distribution wasn't equal—Chris took the lion's share, and Ashen was left with crumbs.

He noticed but kept his mouth shut. Raising a fuss now would likely get him kicked out of the group, and he figured the division was based on perceived usefulness.

His lack of skills had already marked him as expendable.

Once they had eaten, the group visibly relaxed, allowing room for so small talk.

"So, how did you guys end up here?" Braun, the man who introduced himself as a butcher earlier, if Ashen rembered correctly, tried to break the tension.

"No pressure, of course. If you don't want to answer, you don't have to."

Braun was a bald man with a slight paunch. But what truly stood out from him was his imposing body and tall fra. His butcher job only added to his intimidating presence.

Maybe that was why the question hung in the air for a mont too long. That was until a woman lifted her head, seemingly wanting to speak.

'Seraphine Kingsley.' Ashen silently thought, already knowing her na from the earlier introductions.

She leaned forward slightly, her movents elegant despite the situation.

Ashen noted that this girl's beauty was almost otherworldly—thick waves of golden-blonde hair cascaded down to her waist. Her ocean-blue eyes shimred with innocence and unease, a stark contrast to the grim setting.

A high cheekbone structure frad her delicate features, and her soft lips, slightly parted, gave her an air of vulnerability.

Her figure was statuesque, with curves that could rival a goddess, her well-fitted shirt taut against her chest.

It was no wonder every man in the group found themselves stealing glances, though Seraphine appeared oblivious—or indifferent—to the attention.

Her voice, soft as a lullaby, wove through the silence, capturing the room.

"I never imagined… any of this could happen." The words trembled faintly, threaded with fragility. "An old friend of mine —an archaeologist—confided in about an expedition. A secret voyage to an uncharted island. Seravelle, she called it—a na aning 'grace and beauty' in so forgotten dialect."

Her tone sharpened, rising in pitch as if she clung to composure by a thread. A breath hitched in her throat before she pressed on.

"She swore it was safe. Two hundred experts, she said. Hand-picked. But now… I question what they were truly chosen for."

'Well, I wonder how many of these 'experts' ended up as monster dinner…' Ashen grimaced inwardly as his mind kept conjuring the image of those two girls getting chewed on as they begged for rcy.

Seraphine's voice faltered, lingering in the air. Her gaze dropped, words dissolving into a whisper.

"Also… that contract… every clause was a trap disguised as protocol."

The admission escaped with a hollow laugh, bitter and worn. "And I signed it anyway."

Ashen, who overheard her, felt a small sense of relief knowing he wasn't the only one duped. Still, the mory of being baited with cash left a sour taste in his mouth.

A lean man, who had dubbed himself the camping expert earlier, scoffed. "Grace and beauty? My contractor had a much darker description. They called this place Blighted Seravelle. At first, I didn't know why he called it that but If those damn hyena monsters weren't a clue, I don't know what is."

A sobbing voice echoed as another girl joined the conversation, further tensing the already charged atmosphere.

"H-hick… where are we anyway? Where…hick.. even is this place…?"

No one could answer her.

An uncomfortable silence settled like a heavy fog, making the already gloomy cave feel downright haunted.

Ashen could practically hear the sound of strained nerves tightening, just on the verge of snapping.

He knew how fragile the human mind could be—how little it took to push soone over the edge.

These people had been yanked out of their comfortable lives, stripped of all access to technology, and dumped into an alien forest with complete strangers.

'...and as if that wasn't enough, they had to watch people get torn apart and devoured like at in a grinder… then run for their lives right after.'

His brow furrowed.

'It's a damn miracle they haven't cracked already.'

"Does no one really know?" Braun's gruff voice finally broke the silence.

Sweat dripped down his forehead, his face flushed with heat. He crossed his arms tightly below his chest like he was physically holding himself together.

Ashen stopped analyzing the others and turned to answer, hoping that even a crumb of information might ground them.

He rembered his so-called 'contractor's' words crystal clear.

"I think I know where we are…"

Nine sets of eyes snapped toward him, sharp and expectant. The intensity made him freeze for half a beat.

Then he spoke, quickly.

"My contractor—the one who threw here—said I'd be sent to the second continent."

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The crying girl blinked, confused. "But the planet only has one continent…"

Ashen nodded. "Normally, I'd think the sa. But let's be honest—what's normal about our situation?"

He pressed on, "Also… none of you heard the rumors back ho? That there was another continent hidden away, off the maps?"

The camping expert jumped in, skeptical. "Aren't those just the ramblings of lunatics? Humanity's scoured every inch of the planet. All they found were so uninhabited islands."

Ashen tilted his head, then slowly shook it. "Did you see it with your own eyes? Everything we believe—our facts, our 'truths'—they're spoon-fed to us by the dia. And who controls the dia?"

He swept his gaze across the group.

"Exactly. The big guys. And if anyone could hide a continent from the world, it's them."

Braun exhaled slowly. "What Ashen says isn't impossible. We can't just write it off." He clenched his fists. "There's no smoke without fire. And those rumors were too specific to be coincidence."

"Oh, fantastic," a skinny man snapped, unable to hold back anymore. "It wasn't enough to get almost mauled by hyena-dogs—now I'm stuck with so conspiracy nut babbling about hidden lands?"

A woman beside him chid in, latching onto the opening. "Yeah! What the hell's wrong with you? We could just be stuck on so uncharted island! Stop with the creepy theories—aren't things bad enough already, you useless bastard?"

'Great. I've officially beco the group's emotional punching bag…'

Ashen's expression didn't flinch, but inwardly, he was getting annoyed.

"U-uhm… I don't think a random island would have monsters like those wandering around…" Seraphine—the beauty from earlier—suddenly spoke up, a little hesitant.

"You—!" The angry woman spun toward her, eyes narrowing, nails twitching. She looked ready to lunge. And judging by the envy carved into her face, this wasn't just about getting contradicted.

"Alright, alright! Let's calm the hell down."

Chris—the so-called 'leader' of the group—stepped in at last, grabbing the woman's arm and pulling her back before anyone got scratched.

Ashen wasn't sure if Chris intervened to keep the group together... or because he didn't want Seraphine's porcelain doll face getting ssed up.

He sure hadn't spoken up when Ashen was getting verbally shredded earlier.

"..."

"..."

Silence fell again. Heavier and more oppressive this ti.

Ashen felt it in his bones—the tension, thick and dangerous.

Like they were standing next to a powder keg with a lit match in soone's hand.

One word. One wrong look. One stray insult. That's all it would take for everything to explode.

"Those might be just the tip of the iceberg," soone muttered.

But in the heavy silence that clung to the cave, even a whisper echoed like a gunshot.

Heads turned. Every pair of eyes locked onto the source.

It was a man in his mid-twenties, glasses slightly askew, curled up and hugging his knees in a fetal position. He hadn't said a word until now. Clearly the quiet type—and judging by his startled expression, he hadn't ant for his voice to carry.

Seraphine tilted her head, her golden hair catching the faint light. "W-what do you an?" she asked, voice tinged with nervous curiosity.

The man closed his eyes, as if sifting through a buried mory.

"The woman who threw here… called this a tutorial. A way to cull the weak and funnel resources to only those who survive."

'...Sounds familiar.'

Ashen's thoughts stalled. Then his eyes widened as he realized just how badly that statent was about to ss with everyone's heads.

It took a mont for the group to fully process the words.

Then ca the reaction.

It was surprisingly the ever-calm Chris to violently react first as his fist slamd into the cave wall with a dull thud, sending dust tumbling. "So the beasts outside… were just the warm-up?" His laugh cracked, thin, brittle, teetering on the edge of panic.

Braun was the next to lose it.

He clawed at his face, whispering "nonononono" over and over like a broken mantra.

The sobbing girl followed after them as she dropped to her knees, her cry rising into a wail—raw, unfiltered, almost animal.

The dam broke.

Voices crashed together—

"I don't want to die!"

"Mom—oh God, Mom—"

The man who sparked the chaos clawed at his throat, shrieking, "Better by my own hands than those things!" His fingers curled into claws, raking across his arms until blood blood in angry red lines. "I'll do it myself—I swear I'll—"

The air curdled—hot, salty, soaked in fear.

At the entrance, the camping expert and the skinny man exchanged a look. Their eyes glead, feral, darting toward the won.

One licked his chapped lips, muttering under his breath, "Last night alive…"

Chris, finally realizing just how fast everything was spiraling, barked orders—his voice cracking as he tried to restore order. But the words were flimsy, already drowned beneath the rising tide of hysteria.

His mask slipped. A bead of sweat slid down his temple, and his trembling fingers raked through his hair. "Get a grip!" he snarled—but it sounded more like a plea than a command.

The skinny man lunged toward Seraphine, pupils blown wide with sothing dark and hungry.

She stumbled back, spine hitting the cave wall, panic flooding her face—until her gaze found Ashen, who was the nearest to her.

He stood there like a statue, unmoved, eyes focused.

She crawled in his direction and grabbed him. Fingernails dug deep into his arm. "Do sothing," she pleaded, breathless.

Around them, chaos festered: the rhythmic slap of soone hitting themselves, the wet sound of retching, the high-pitched whimpers of panic spiraling out of control.

Ashen didn't react. From the outside, he looked lost in thought.

In reality, he was just… stunned.

Everything was falling apart. Chris was flailing. No one else could pull them back from the brink. That left him.

'...Fuck. That guy should've kept his mouth shut.'

He bit back a sigh and closed his eyes, trying to drown out the panic and find so kind of solution.

'Should I help Chris?'

A glance told him everything—Chris was already halfway to losing his mind.

Useless.

'Joining in won't help. The noise is already bad enough. It's only a matter of ti before it draws sothing to us.'

Violence?

'Absolutely not. That'd tip them right over.'

Think. Think…

He muttered the word under his breath, as if it might conjure up a miracle.

'They need hope. Sothing to hold onto. I'm shit at inspiration, so… logic it is.'

Ashen opened his eyes.

"Stop."

One word.

And miraculously, the cave went still.

Even he looked surprised—but he didn't waste the window. That pause was all he needed.

He had to choose his next words carefully. One wrong sentence, and they'd tear him apart instead.

"They won't let us die," he said firmly.

Chris's ragged breathing slowed, just slightly. He straightened, eyes narrowing.

"...What do you an by that?"

Ashen t their stares and spoke evenly, calm and slow, forcing steadiness into every syllable.

"If they wanted us dead, they wouldn't need this whole elaborate setup. They could've just killed us outright. No theatrics, no monsters, no cave. This is most likely a test. They'll co for us soon—probably within the week. We just have to survive until then."

"A week?" the skinny man scoffed. "There's no proof we'll make it that long. And your whole speech? It's just blind hope."

His logic was solid. But his eyes gave him away.

They kept drifting toward Seraphine's chest with thinly veiled lust.

He didn't want calm—he wanted chaos so that he could be a beast without being judged.

And Seraphine knew it too. She tucked herself behind Ashen, using him as a shield from the man's gaze.

Ashen t him with a stare as cold as stone. "My contractor said they were looking for soldiers, not corpses. If they want soldiers, they'll have to train and arm us eventually. We just have to make it that far."

A thoughtful silence followed.

Then the camping expert muttered, "...My contractor ntioned sothing about a kingdom. Sounds like there's civilization out there."

Seraphine's voice piped up behind him. "My… friend ntioned superhumans. She called them transcendents. I thought she was joking but… maybe not?"

"Superhumans?"

The word turned heads. Hope, awe, disbelief—it stirred sothing in everyone.

Chris had the biggest reaction. His eyes glead, nostrils flared like a hound catching a scent.

Ashen noticed.

'...He knows sothing.'

Ashen shook it off. Then winced—Seraphine's nails were still embedded in his arm.

"If that friend's the sa one who threw you here, maybe stop calling her that," he muttered near her ear.

She blinked, surprised. Her fingers loosened. "Heh… yeah, guess I should."

Ashen let out a small sigh of relief, finally pulling his arm free.

He turned to face the others, gauging their expressions.

They were calr now. Shaken, yes—but not collapsing.

"Alright," he said. "If survival's the goal, we need a plan. Rest is critical. We take shifts. Two people every two hours."

Eyes turned toward him again.

"I'll take first shift."

"Then I'll join."

Seraphine's hand rose instantly, her singsong tone soft and bright—a jarring contrast to the mood.

Ashen gave her a small nod as he stood, ready to begin.