A sound slipped through the silence.

Soft.

Small.

Crack.

It didn’t echo like the others. It didn’t need to. It landed heavy anyway, like something delicate giving way under pressure that should never have existed in the first place.

Inside the corridor, the creature hadn’t lunged, hadn’t torn him, hadn’t even rushed.

It had simply... pulled the man closer.

Its long arms folded inward in a slow, almost carefully, mowtion, drawing him into its chest like something meant to comfort and not to destroy.

The soldier’s body jerked once in its grip, it was pretty much a reflex more than resistance, his hands pushing weakly against that impossibly thin frame as if his body still hadn’t caught up to what was happening.

Then—

Another crack.

One moment, the creature held him in a soft, almost gentle embrace.

The next, the tall, pale thing tightened its grip.

No warning.

No hesitation.

Its arms cinched around him, and the soldier’s body bent within its grasp— his back forced into a strained, unnatural curve as the hold turned from quiet to crushing.

Still, the creature didn’t react.

Didn’t drop him.

Didn’t adjust.

It simply remained there, seated against the cold metal floor, long limbs wrapped around the unmoving body in a posture that looked disturbingly gentle. Its head tilted slightly downward, resting just above the man’s shoulder, as if listening for something that wasn’t there anymore.

Like it was waiting.

Or... holding.

Outside the portal, no one spoke.

A few from Team Two had gone pale enough to look sick.

One of them covered their mouth too late, the image already burned in. Another took a step back without realizing it, then another, until someone behind them stopped them from retreating further.

The corridor lights flickered again.

The creature did not move.

It just sat there.

Still holding him.

As if it didn’t understand the difference between keeping something close—

And breaking it to make sure it never left.

After that, everyone remained silent.

Then someone broke the silence.

"What is that?!"

"Did you see that? That’s..."

"I’m not going in there— are you insane?!"

"That thing caught up to the man with strange green clothes, it even killed him like it was casually!!!"

One of the Purple Team members staggered back another step, nearly tripping over someone behind her, hands raised like she could physically push the portal away. Hdr breathing had already gone uneven, eyes locked on the flickering hallway as if looking too long might drag her inside.

"We’ll die," she said, voice thin, breaking at the edges. "We’ll actually die in there— this isn’t survival, this is slaughter—"

"Shut up!" someone snapped immediately, but there was no authority behind it, just fear trying to disguise itself as anger. "Panicking won’t help!"

"You think staying calm will?!" another shot back, almost laughing, the sound hollow and wrong. "the announcer dai it learns, did you hear her?! It learns— how do you fight something that learns, what about us, wait what is even our leader doing?!"

A sharp metallic screech echoed again from within the portal, louder this time.

Everyone flinched.

Hard.

A woman from Black Team grabbed the arm of the person next to her without realizing it, fingers digging in tight. "Did you hear that...? That wasn’t just one thing..."

"No," the other whispered back, staring into the corridor like it might stare back. "It wasn’t..."

Further back, two teammates were already arguing in low, frantic voices.

"We stick together," one insisted, jaw clenched. "Numbers matter. If it adapts, then we adapt faster—"

"That’s exactly how groups get wiped out! Are you a DUMBASS!?!" the other cut in immediately. "One mistake, one pattern, and we all die at once! Splitting up gives us a chance!"

"And makes us easier to pick off!"

"At least I won’t die because you made noise!"

Their voices rose, sharp and fast, until someone shoved between them just to stop it from turning physical.

"Stop it!" he barked. "We don’t even know what’s in there yet!"

As if answering him—

Another bang rang out from deeper inside the facility.

Closer.

The flickering lights stuttered again, longer this time, and for a brief second the corridor went completely dark.

In that blink of darkness—

Something moved across the hallway, it wasn’t the tall white man, because it was still sitting there, holding the soldier in its arms.

Then the lights came back.

A strangled sound left someone’s throat.

"N-no," they whispered, shaking their head over and over like denial could rewind what they’d just seen. "No, no, no..."

At the front, one of the taller Black Team members clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles went pale. He forced himself a step closer to the portal, even as his body clearly didn’t want to follow.

"We don’t have a choice," he said, voice low, rough. "You heard her. Sunrise or we die anyway."

"That’s if we even make it an hour!" someone shouted back.

Silence hit again— brief, suffocating.

Because no one could argue that.

Above them, laughter continued.

Below, Team Two stood on the edge of something that didn’t feel like a mission.

It felt like entering a place that was already waiting for them.

The panic in Team Two hadn’t even finished settling into their bones when—

tEng.

A light, almost cheerful chime cut cleanly through the tension, slicing it apart like it had no right to exist in a place like this.

"Okay, stop being dramatic... lolol, let’s just continue!" the bunny announcer chirped, tone bright, careless, like she hadn’t just shown them something that rewired the definition of fear.

She snapped her fingers lazily, and behind her, the massive wheel spun again— steady at first, then faster, the sharp tak, tak, tak of its clicks echoing across the arena like a countdown nobody agreed to.

Her gaze dropped toward the next group.

"Now... Team Three. White and Green."

The reaction was instant.

Not loud.

Not chaotic.

But sharp— like a jolt of cold water straight through the nerves.bones or whatever you can think of.

Every member of Team Three flinched.

Shoulders jerked. Breaths caught mid-inhale. A few of them actually stepped back without meaning to. One man’s hand snapped up to his chest, fingers curling into his shirt like he could physically hold his heartbeat in place. Another froze halfway through turning his head, body locking stiff, eyes wide and unfocused for a split second.

Because they had seen it.

They had just seen it.

The village.

The thing that moved wrong between houses.

The lab.

The corridor.

The creature that hugged that dawg in him.

That knowledge hadn’t faded. It hadn’t even settled. It was still fresh, still crawling under their skin, still replaying behind their eyes in sharp, unwanted flashes. And now— Now it was their turn.

The group instinctively tightened in on itself, spacing shrinking as if standing closer might somehow make them harder to pick apart. No one spoke. No one joked. Even the ones who looked confident earlier had gone quiet, jaws set a little too tight, eyes fixed on the spinning wheel like it might suddenly look back at them.

Hope wasn’t gone.

But it was thin.

Fragile.

And trembling right alongside them.

The wheel then slowed.

Clicked.

Stopped.

She didn’t even pretend to build suspense this time.

"Serve as royal guards in a corrupt kingdom."