The second day without a drop confirmed it.
This wasn't a delay.
It was policy.
Scarcity Goes Official
By morning, the control tent stopped pretending.
"Drop frequency reduced by sixty percent," a producer said quietly.
"Randomized zones. No advance indicators."
Someone exhaled.
"That'll break them."
The director didn't answer.
His eyes stayed on one screen.
Aria.
Confusion Turns Into Motion
Downhill, people reacted the same way humans always did.
They ran.
Toward noise.
Toward rumors.
Toward imagined opportunities.
"Someone said they heard a drone!"
"I saw something move near the ridge!"
Energy bled out in every direction.
The drones captured the chaos from above.
💬 [LiveWatcher]: THEY'RE PANICKING AGAIN
💬 [SurvivalFan]: Reduced drops always reset the board
Aria Does Not Run
She stood still.
Listened.
Watched leaves.
Watched birds.
Watched people.
"…Unlimited control," she murmured.
"…Limited supply."
The cameraman frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"…They control what appears," she said calmly.
"…I control where it matters."
The Map She Never Drew
Aria didn't move toward the rumored zones.
She moved around them.
Tracing paths no one noticed because they weren't exciting.
Old animal corridors.
High ground intersections.
Natural funnels.
She paused at one ridge and crouched.
The cameraman leaned closer.
"…Why here?"
"…Because everything avoids the obvious," she replied.
"…Including drops."
Producers Notice the Shift
In the control tent, a producer leaned forward.
"She's not chasing signals."
Another frowned.
"She's predicting placement."
The director's lips pressed together.
"…Keep the camera on her."
The Chat Starts Connecting Dots
💬 [Watcher]: Why is she walking AWAY from everyone else?
💬 [GeoNerd]: High ground + funnels = interception point
Someone clipped her route and overlaid it with past drop locations.
The pattern wasn't perfect.
But it rhymed.
Control Without Authority
Aria stopped near a narrow clearing.
Sat.
Waited.
Did nothing.
Below her, contestants ran themselves tired.
Arguments flared again.
Someone fell.
Someone cried.
The jungle watched.
So did Aria.
"…Control isn't speed," she murmured.
"…It's position."
The Drone Sound Returns
At 14:17, a faint hum cut through the air.
Heads snapped up everywhere.
People sprinted.
Shouted.
Pushed.
Aria stood.
Not fast.
Not slow.
Exactly on time.
Closing Beat
As the drone grew louder, Aria adjusted her direction by a few degrees.
Just enough.
The cameraman's breath hitched.
"…You think it's coming here."
She nodded once.
"…Yes."
Above them, the drone descended.
Below them, chaos surged.
And somewhere between limited drops and unlimited control—
Aria Lane smiled slightly.
Because scarcity didn't remove power.
It concentrated it.