"The trial will start!" Renzou shouted. "Let's pray and hope nobody is chosen today."
Everyone nodded solemnly.
An hour passed. Then two. Then four. Gradually, the tension eased. People sighed in relief.
Bang! The door shuddered, then began to close. Laughter broke out, joyous and unrestrained.
Klein watched the process, his heart pounding. His only thought at that moment was simple, almost childlike:
Nobody was chosen.
Laughter and cheers echoed through the camp as boys sang and tested their strength in power games. Kaz dominated the circle, effortlessly lifting one of the others and tossing him aside. He roared with laughter, and the rest followed.
Mikail shook his head, dismissing them as a bunch of hard‑headed idiots. He picked up a cup and wandered away from the bonfire. His eyes found Klein, seated beneath a tree, staring at the looming tower.
"Don't stare too much—you might scare the building away," Mikail mocked.
Klein looked up and chuckled. Mikail handed him the cup, and Klein accepted eagerly. Thirsty, he took a sip—then spat it out immediately.
"What is this?" he gasped, eyes watering.
Mikail laughed. "Haha, it'll pass. Everyone reacts like that the first time they drink it."
Klein glared at the cup, then at Mikail. "Wait… you don't expect me to drink this again, do you?"
Mikail only grinned. Klein coughed harder than ever, and Mikail patted his back lightly.
"You, okay?" he asked, settling beside him. Together, they looked up at the sky.
"Nice view," Mikail said.
"There's no stars. No moon," Klein murmured.
"That's normal. It's fake," Mikail replied.
"Huh?" Klein frowned.
"This place is an enclosed dome. If you walk all the way to the edge, you'll hit a wall. It loops back to the tower. Maybe some kind of optical trick. The tower is there and not there. We can reach it, but we can't reach it."
Klein shook his head. "That's nonsense, right?"
Mikail laughed. "Bro, at least laugh." He nudged Klein playfully, and Klein managed a smile.
Suddenly—Oaaarrhhhh! A monstrous roar tore from the tower, carried by the wind. The camp fell silent. Klein's eyes widened.
"What was that?"
Mikail sighed. "A Tall Man. What you heard was him hunting."
"Hunting what?" Klein asked, though he already knew.
"As you've guessed, our Sentinel wasn't chosen tonight. Somewhere out there, another camp was—and they're facing the monster now."
Mikail rose, brushing off his hands. "Enough for today. Everyone to your quarters. We've got work tomorrow." He tapped Klein's back and strolled away.
"Wait," Klein called, following. "Has anyone here ever entered the trail and come back?"
Mikail shook his head. "Nobody here has ever been selected. And anyone trapped inside a trail never returns."
Klein stopped. "What about Pet?"
"His case is different. He was trapped during a mapping mission," Mikail said quickly.
"But st—" Klein began, only to be cut off.
"You ask too many questions. Since you'll be here a long time, ask them slowly. One day at a time." Mikail jogged off, clearly avoiding further interrogation.
Klein sighed, lifted his cup, and licked his lips. "Not bad, in the end," he muttered.
Dain passed by, whispering, "There's goat urine in that cocktail."
Klein froze, spitting out what he was about to swallow. He stared dumbly at the cup as Dain walked away. Some things are better not known.
The distant roars echoed again. Klein poured out the drink, trudged to his tent, and lay down. His eyes lingered on the Tower one last time before sleep claimed him.
At five in the morning, Klein opened his eyes and stood. Around him, the camp was still quiet. He noticed Dain sluggishly dragging himself up, heading outside to relieve himself. Klein followed.
"Why are you following me?" Dain asked suspiciously.
"I don't know where the restroom is," Klein replied seriously.
Both finished and walked back toward the farm. Mikail and a few of the others were already at work, their movements steady and practiced.
While Klein bent to his task, his gaze drifted upward. Two boys were walking toward the tower. The doors stood open. As he had been told, after a trial the doors remained open for half a day, allowing participants to gather the tools of the fallen and map the field.
Klein spotted Renzou speaking with the two boys. They were geared up as if preparing for war—helmets strapped tight, armor gleaming.
"They look like the Pacificas…" Klein murmured.
"Stop daydreaming and work," Alex snapped. He was irritated; yesterday Dain had covered Klein's duties, and if Klein didn't pull his weight today, Alex feared he'd be stuck with extra work.
Klein nodded and returned to his task, though his eyes kept flicking toward the tower. He saw Renzou wave, and the two armored boys sprinted inside. Their speed startled him. With such heavy gear, how could they move so fast? Klein wondered.
"Who were those two boys who went in?" Klein asked, biting into a tomato as he glanced at Dain.
Dain didn't look up, his hands busy with the soil. Still, he answered.
"That was Luc and Castle. They're mappers. Since nobody likes being a mapper—too risky—they get certain privileges. But only idiots would risk their lives for a few privileges." He finally glared at Klein. "It would be better if you stopped eating the crops and actually worked."
Klein laughed, holding up the tomato.
The day dragged on, and by evening Klein had finally finished his task. He noticed people gathering near the tower's doors.
"What's going on?" he asked.
Dain frowned. "The mappers aren't back."
"Is that a problem?" Klein asked.
Dain nodded grimly. "The doors close at day's end. If they're not back, it means something happened inside."
Klein followed Dain toward the crowd. Renzou stood there, visibly anxious. He wasn't alone—everyone's faces carried the same tension.
Dang! The doors shook violently and began to close. Just as the boys thought it was over, one of the mappers appeared. But he wasn't alone.
"What the hell is that?!" someone shouted.
"Damn, is that what a Tall Man looks like?" Mikail cried. "Who even gave them that name?"
The mapper sprinted with impossible speed, his heavy gear clattering as he tore forward like a cheetah. Behind him, a towering creature gave chase—six limbs, skin pale as bone, its face splitting into four sections lined with shark‑like teeth.
"RUN!" Renzou roared. The crowd echoed him, urging the mapper on.
Desperate, the boy reached out his hand. Renzou extended his own, ready to pull him to safety.
But in an instant, the creature's claws ripped through the air. The mapper was seized like a sack of meat and hurled against the wall.
Dang! The doors slammed shut, leaving the camp in suffocating silence.