When the pain settled, they opened their eyes wide. The truth dawned on them with crushing weight.
This wasn't a military test site.
This was Earth—shaped, scarred, and cultivated into something else.
Something alien.
Something built for amusement.
The words on the wall echoed in their minds:
We are runners. We are prey.
The food turned bitter in their mouths.
Jalen's voice cracked with rage. "Oh… Jesus, f**k! We've been captured—for some kind of twisted alien enjoyment."
Just as panic threatened to break loose, footsteps echoed through the halls.
The group spun toward the sound, snatching up anything they could use as a weapon—metal scraps, chairs, anything heavy enough to swing.
The steps drew closer.
Then two figures appeared in the hallway.
Amara and Kaito.
Faces pale, eyes wide, their presence pulled the group back from the brink of violence.
"We almost killed you," one of them muttered in disbelief.
Amara's expression was grim. "So you remembered too?" She nodded. "Good. At least I don't have to be the bearer of bad news."
The tension snapped the moment Amara spoke.
"We need to get out of here!" several voices cried at once, panic rising like wildfire.
"There is no way out," Amara answered firmly, her voice steady in the silence.
Kaito stood beside her, his face pale but jaw set. "There is no escape."
Kira pushed forward, seizing Kaito's combat jacket. The buttons hung loose, revealing the vest beneath. Her grip was tight, her sharp eyes boring into his. "What do you mean, no escape? Are you saying there's no way out? That we're trapped?"
The room still reeked faintly of opened canned food, but hunger was the last thing on anyone's mind. Kira's knuckles whitened as she demanded answers.
Amara drew in a slow, controlled breath. Her words came calmly but unflinching.
"The walls are too high. Made of alien material, the same as these pods and some of these walls. They surround us, stretching for eight… maybe ten miles in every direction. And when you get close—" she paused, her eyes flicking to Kaito "—they move. They glow. They feel alive."
Kaito's lips pressed into a tight line as he nodded. "We ran the perimeter for hours. No cracks. No openings. No gates. Nothing. This is a cage. And we're inside it."
The words dropped like stones into their chests.
Elira's voice trembled. "So we're trapped?"
"Not just trapped," Kaito replied darkly. "I think we're being watched. Observed. Tested, maybe. Whatever brought us here—it's watching."
Jalen let out a humorless laugh, dragging a hand through his messy curls. "Great. So we're rats in a maze. Fantastic."
Xavier stepped closer, his tone low and grim. "No. A maze has an exit. A cage doesn't."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Each runner wrestled with the weight of his words, their fleeting hope smothered.
Hours passed. The sun dipped toward the horizon, staining the sky in bruised colors. Hunger gnawed at their stomachs again, a cruel reminder of their reality.
Even Amara and Kaito, who had resisted earlier, gave in. They tore open cans, eating with the same desperation as the others. Swallowing quickly, hardly chewing, they devoured what was left.
"This tastes too good," Kaito muttered between bites. "What even is it made of?"
No one had an answer.
When they were done, Amara wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "If we can't escape, then we need to find something—anything—that explains this place."
The others agreed reluctantly. They spread out again, searching the building and its surroundings. Every corner. Every passage.
But there was nothing.
No hidden doors. No secret passages. Nothing but silence.
Jalen spat on the ground, his frustration boiling over. "Not a damn thing. It's like the place is taunting us."
Kira's voice cracked, desperate. "What happened to the people before us? The writings show they were here. Were they killed? Will the same thing happen to us?"
No one could answer her. Not even Xavier.
Nyah shook her head, her tone somber. Those outside "walls aren't just unclimbable. They're unnatural. Alive, maybe. The aliens don't want us to escape."
The words sank into the silence.
By the time the sun set fully, the outside was wrapped in darkness. No artificial lights illuminated the exterior of the base. Only the moon's cold glow guided their return.
One by one, the group filed back into the building. Their footsteps echoed down the same hallway, past the carvings and blood-written words that had unsettled them earlier.
We are runners. We are prey. Stay alive for the next hunt.
Amara lingered, her eyes drawn to a corner of the wall. Names of previous runners were etched there, faint and fading.
Her chest tightened. Her breath caught.
"These…" Her voice broke. "These are my comrades. My people. They were here."
Her hands trembled as she traced the faded letters, blurred by age.
She fell to her knees, grief overwhelming her. Tears streamed down her face as her lips moved in whispered Hindi prayers.
"I thought you were lost in the desert," she murmured. "But you were here… and you died here."
The others fell silent, their gazes heavy with respect. Even Kaito bowed his head, though the thought of his sister caused him some discomfort.
Elira fought to block out thoughts of her daughter. She had kept her composure since her flashback, but the thought of loss could shatter her completely. She said nothing, burying her emotions deep to survive.
None of them knew yet that the world outside was already gone. If they had, those who still clung to family would have felt the same crushing despair as Amara.
That evening, they decided.
"We barricade," Alexei said firmly. His voice carried the weight of command. "Doors, windows, anything that leads outside. We don't know when they're coming, but the messages are clear—they will come."
Xavier nodded. "Tables. Chairs. Even the crate. Stack everything against the entrances."
Jalen smirked faintly, though it looked forced. "A good old-fashioned lockdown. It won't stop whatever dropped us out of the sky, but maybe it'll buy us some time."
Together, they moved with purpose. Heavy objects screeched across the floors as they dragged them into place. Tables leaned against the steel doors. Broken chairs were wedged into window frames. Every entrance, every gap, was covered.
Their efforts echoed through the halls, a rhythm of defiance against the silence.
Above them, Korr'Vex sat in his chamber, aboard a ship high in the sky. Directly above the ranch, unseen unless one looked carefully—or caught a glimpse by mistake. He watched. Always watching.
By the time they finished, sweat slicked their brows, and their bodies ached. Yet a strange sense of unity lingered. For the first time since awakening, they felt less like strangers and more like comrades.
They drank from the cafeteria sinks. They sat in silence. Some leaned against walls. Others curled up on bunks in their suits. The eerie preservation of the building became almost familiar.
Still, the writings on the walls gnawed at them. The warnings of hunts that never end echoed in their minds.
"We don't even know when it will begin," Elira whispered to no one in particular.
Nyah's reply was soft, heavy with dread. "That's worse. Waiting is its own kind of death."