Jake stood frozen, he could hear his pulse through his ear.
He turned on his heel. Every instinct screamed at him to keep looking forward, to walk away, to not give in.
And he didn't.
The system was toying with him. It wanted to see him break.
Jake clenched his jaw, swallowing down the icy dread creeping up his spine. He refused to give them what they wanted.
With quick, deliberate movements, he turned on his heel and strode back the way he came. Each step felt heavier, the weight of his own paranoia pressing against his shoulders. But he kept moving.
By the time he reached the surveillance room, his hands were trembling.
He pushed the door open, slipping inside before shoving it shut behind him. His back hit the cold metal, his breath coming out in ragged bursts as he pressed a hand to his chest, forcing himself to steady his breathing.
'You're fine, It wasn't real,' he kept repeating to himself while catching his breath, trying to convince himself to believe it.
—
By the time Jake returned to the stock room, the others were still gathered around the table, deep in discussion. The moment he stepped inside, Arya's sharp gaze flicked toward him, narrowing instantly.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," she muttered.
He exhaled, cleared his throat, shaking off the last remnants of that voice, of the memories clawing at the edges of his mind. "Just needed some air."
Arya studied him, her brows slightly furrowed, but she didn't push. Nicole, however, leaned forward, her expression unreadable. "You found something," she said simply.
Jake hesitated. His fingers twitched at his sides, the phantom sensation of the bracelet still lingering against his skin. He could tell them. He could lay it all out—how the system was getting inside their heads, digging through their memories, twisting reality itself.
But he didn't.
Instead, he shook his head. "Nothing useful."
Nicole didn't look convinced, but she didn't argue.
Mark sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Then we're back where we started."
"No," Jake said, his voice firmer now. He met Arya's gaze, then Nicole's, then Clark's. "We know more than we did before. The system isn't just about survival. It's about control. It's watching us, testing us. And it knows exactly how to get under our skin."
Clark folded his arms. "So what do we do?"
Jake's jaw tightened. His fingers curled into fists at his sides.
"We have to survive smart," Zack interrupted, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. "No more walking into these trials blind. No more scrambling to react. If the system is testing us, we need to start testing it back," Jake finished.
Arya nodded, her fingers drumming against the table. "Then we need a plan. We don't just prepare for what's next — we find a way to turn the system's own mechanics against it."
Nicole exhaled sharply. "Easier said than done. We still don't know what the next trial will be."
"We do," Jake said. "At least, we have a clue." He reached into his pocket, pulling out the worn scrap of paper he had found in Lewis Adam's wallet. He flattened it against the table, letting the others read it again:
We are not the first. We are not the last. The system doesn't choose fairly—it chooses who suffers the longest.
Mark's face darkened. "That doesn't tell us much."
"Maybe it does." Arya leaned closer, her brows furrowed. "The system isn't just eliminating people at random. It's keeping some of us longer than others. Why?"
"Because it feeds off suffering," Ellie murmured, almost to herself. "Or... it measures it."
A cold silence fell over them.
Jake's grip tightened around the edge of the table. "That lines up with what I found earlier."
He pulled out the bracelet.
The room went still.
"What is that?" Clark asked
Jake swallowed, his voice lower now. "It's my daughter's."
Ellie's eyes widened. "You think it belonged to her?"
Jake hesitated, then shook his head. "No. It's too old, too worn down. But the system wants me to believe it's hers." He exhaled sharply. "And maybe, that's what this next trial is about."
Arya's expression sharpened. "What do you mean?"
Jake ran a hand through his hair. His mind was still racing, but the pieces were starting to come together. The system wasn't just about physical endurance or strategy. It targeted weaknesses. It knew their fears, their regrets.
"It's trying to break us," he said. "Psychologically. It's been doing it since the start, but this time? I think it's going all in."
Nicole's eyes narrowed. "You're saying the next trial is designed to attack our minds."
Jake nodded. "It won't just throw monsters at us. It'll use what we fear most. Our pasts. Our guilt. Our doubts. And if we don't keep a grip on what's real, we'll be playing right into its hands."
Clark exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. "Great. So we're walking into a nightmare."
Mark muttered something under his breath. "We need to be ready for anything."
"We need to be ready for ourselves," Arya corrected. "If this trial is designed to manipulate us, we can't trust our own eyes. Our own thoughts."
Ellie crossed her arms. "So how do we fight that?"
Jake glanced down at the bracelet again. His fingers brushed over the beads. He had almost fallen for it—the system's first move against him. But he had stopped himself. Why?
Because he knew his wife, and daughter wasn't here. Because he refused to let the system dictate his emotions.
He looked back at the others, a new determination settling in his chest.
"We remind each other of what's real," he said. "No matter what we see. No matter what we hear. We don't give in." His gaze flickered to Arya. "You said the system operates on rules. That means illusions, manipulations—whatever it throws at us—they have limits."
Arya's lips pressed into a thin line. "If we can figure out those limits, we can push back."
Jake nodded. "Exactly." He turned back to the group. "So if any of us start slipping—start doubting what's real—we pull each other back."
Nicole tapped her fingers against the table. "And if we can't?"
Jake's jaw tightened. "Then we fight it."
"What if they put us all in different places again? Like the one from the shifting maze?" Ellie said, voice laced with concern and fear.
Clark exhaled sharply. "Then we're screwed."
"No," Zack interjected firmly. "That's exactly what the system wants us to think. Isolation makes us vulnerable, but that doesn't mean we're helpless."
Jake ran a hand down his face. "We need a failsafe. Something to anchor us even if we're alone."
Ellie hesitated. "Like what?"
Nicole's gaze flickered to Jake's bracelet, to the way his hand lingered near the beads. "Something personal," she murmured.
Jake's breath hitched. He reached into his boots, removed a small, worn anklet—faded purple and blue threads intertwined with clumsy knots. A friendship bracelet that looks like the one he was holding.
"This," he said, holding it up. His voice was hoarse, thick with something he refused to name. "This is real. This is mine. No matter what the system shows me, this doesn't change."
The group fell silent.
Slowly, Ellie reached for her own wrist. A small silver ring, cheap and slightly bent, gleamed under the dim lighting. "My dad gave me this... before he left me. Before the world ended."
Clark pulled a dog tag from beneath his shirt. "My brother's."
One by one, they revealed small tokens—worn photographs, old keychains, scraps of fabric from a life before the system.
Arya folded her arms. "Physical objects can also be tampered with by illusions. That's our test. If something doesn't match what we know is real, we don't trust it."
Zack nodded. "And if they try to use our fears against us?"
Arya's fingers curled into a fist. "Then we remember who we are."
Mark sighed. "We say that now, but in the middle of it? When it feels real?" His expression darkened. "Fear is a hell of a thing."
Jake met his gaze. "That's why we don't let it win."
Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken fears.
Then Mark pushed back his chair. "Six hours, right?" He cracked his knuckles. "Guess we better prepare for hell."