Jean lay on his back behind the food hall, the tall grass swaying in the artificial breeze of their fake sky dome. Even in this calming environment, the weight pressing down on his chest didn't go away. His fingers twisted nervously, coiling the grass around them as he gazed up at the illusion of a blue sky—an unchanging ceiling with no clouds, no sun. Always the same. No weather. Like a prison.
His fight with Erik kept replaying in his head, over and over. It felt endless—seventeen people had died. He kept on repeating the number in his mind like a calculation. Seventeen. Three groups. One Mission
It wasn't sadness that he felt. it was probability. He knew it was his ignorance that caused problems. He should have stayed longer and analyzed more of the jungle, maybe it would have given more information.
He clenched the grass tightly making a fist.
Some of them were just kids. One girl had just turned seventeen. She'd barely spoken to anyone before she died. He didn't even have the chance to learn her name, he never got to interact with her. Now, she was gone.
One mission. One job. Be the scout.
Minimize deaths.
And he'd failed.
He had no way of knowing that monsters waited beyond the black door. It hadn't been a room or a trial. It was a dungeon—a compact, hellish world filled with creatures that could kill within seconds.
But even ignorance, he understood, did not reduce liability.
"Could I have actually done something?" he muttered. "Perhaps I should have tried to warn them."
Faint voices in the distance pulled him back to the present. He slowly pushed himself up, brushing the grass from his shirt as he sat there.
He knew he couldn't hide forever. Not while Erik was out there—angry, alone, acting irrational.
Jean stood, exhaled, and began to walk.
He eventually passed his small shack. Callum, Ronan, Lydia, Elise—they all sat outside. They were his people now. A strange yet stitched-together family born from hardships and loss. As he walked past them, Elise looked up from where she sat. Her eyes softened at him.
"Jean," she said, jumping to her feet. "Hey, don't listen to what Erik sa—"
He pushed past her without a word, pretending not to hear.
She reached to grab his arm. "Please, don't go to him yet. He isn't ready to talk."
Jean shook her off. "Avoidance will just cause more problems, he is probably going to do something irrational."
He kept walking.
Group One's shack—Erik's shack—was planted by the edge of the field, far away from the other groups' shack. Everyone was gone, except for Erik. He was alone.
Jean found him sitting outside, sharpening a wooden spear by the side of his shack. He didn't even care to look up.
"Are you lost or something?" Erik said, almost trying to deepen his voice.
Jean stood over him. "I came to talk."
Erik stopped for a moment, then resumed sharpening his wooden spear. "I don't care about what you have to say."
"Listen I am aware, I know you're angry."
Erik laughed tightening his grip around the spear. "You don't get it, do you?"
Jean did not respond.
"Seventeen people Jean, Seventeen!" Erik looked up at him and yelled. "You are just walking around like its another Tuesday."
"It wasn't anyone's fault, you could say it was my ignorance. But in the end we had a lack of communication."
Erik was done with Jean. He glared up at Jean—his eyes looked more tired than furious. "Goddamn it, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
A few heads turned from a distance. Elise, Lydia, Callum, and Ronan all heard the commotion and rushed over.
Erik pointed at Jean.
"Look at him! Don't you think its weird he is the only one calm about this hell? Why doesn't it even shock him a bit."
Everyone froze, they all could understand Erik's point. Elise looked at Jean.
"Jean... why are you so calm?" she asked carefully.
Jean tilted his head, like a dog confused to a noise. "I don't understand. Whats so unusual?"
Erik laughed. "You're unusual. People died... you act like that's okay."
Jean furrowed his brow slightly. "This is a similar environment from before. Its the same as the simulations they ran on me. It was quite unpleasant, but to be expected."
They all stared at him, everyone hesitated to speak.
Callum questioned Jean. "Hey... what do you mean... simulation? None of this is normal."
Jean looked even more confused than before. "That's not important. Erik intends to leave."
Erik's face twisted in anger. "Your either broken or just an asshole."
Jean blinked. "That might be accurate. But even if I am, your just going to die if you go alone."
"I'm going anyway," Erik said. "I'm leaving in an hour. Say your goodbyes before then.
Jean said in an almost threatening tone. "You'll die."
"Maybe," Erik glared at him. "But at least I wont have to die with you guys."
Jean stared as Erik walked back towards his shack.
The hour had finally passed quietly. They didn't fight nor interact in that time.
Erik approached the black door with big sacks carrying all the necessary supplies.
Jean stood nearby. The others gathered to watch from a distance, they all stared in anticipation wondering if he would actually leave.
"He's really doing it," Elise whispered.
"We're letting him go?" Callum questioned.
Lydia crossed her arms. "We wouldn't be able to stop him, even if we did he would still just die anyway's."
Ronan yawned. "Hey guys, I just woke up. What's going on?"
No one answered. Jean watched from a distance as Erik placed his hand on the doors cold black surface. Then he stepped through.
He didn't hesitate, or even look back.
He just left.
The door remained cracked open.
Jean kept staring, wondering if he was going to come crying back here.
"Do you think he'll wait for us?" Elise asked gently.
Jean's voice became unreadable. "No. If he doesn't come back through those doors in 5 minutes, he is either dead or just doesn't expect anyone to follow."
That night, Jean sat outside in the grass alone. The artificial wind picked up, it felt sharp. The sent of rain drifted through the air, and yet it never rained.
The ceiling sky, blank, dark, no stars, just a singular moon.
Erik's words stuck to Jean like gum to a shoe.
"You really are broke."
Jean tried his best not to think about it, but it felt oddly painful.
Maybe he was.
Maybe that's why none of this felt unnatural to him.
But one thing had changed.
He couldn't stay here, even if he wanted to.
Tomorrow, he would leave.
Not because he wanted to find Erik, but to escape. Sitting still meant decay, and decay was worse than death.