The argument started small, as most disasters do.
"We should investigate the turtle cave," Ah'Ming said, pulling out the fidget cube he'd been unconsciously pocketing and un-pocketing for the last ten minutes. "There has to be a reason for all those paintings."
"Or," Min countered, arms crossed, "it's just random aboriginal art and we're wasting time staring at reptile drawings while the zombies pick us off one by one."
"Turtles aren't reptiles—wait, no, they are reptiles. That's not the point." Ah'Ming shook his head. "The point is, nobody paints a hundred turtles for fun. It means something."
"Maybe they really liked turtles!" A player named Darius threw his hands up. "Maybe turtles were sacred! Maybe they had a turtle festival! It doesn't mean it has anything to do with our current 'being hunted by waterlogged zombies' situation!"
"Everything in an instance means something," Ah'Ming insisted. "That's how these work. There are no random details—"
"Oh, I'm SORRY," Min said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I didn't realize we had an EXPERT on instance design. How many investigation instances have you cleared, exactly?"
"This is my second instance ever—"
"EXACTLY."
"—but I got an S-rank on the first one—"
"That doesn't MEAN anything!"
"It literally means I know how to find patterns!"
Kael stepped between them, spear held horizontally like a barrier. "Everyone STOP. We're not doing this. We're not turning on each other."
"We're not turning on anyone," Ah'Ming said, still clicking his fidget cube rapidly. "I just think the turtle paintings are important—"
"And I think you're wasting our time!" Min snapped. "We have TWELVE people left! TWELVE! Out of THIRTY-SEVEN! Every hour we spend looking at paintings is an hour someone else could die!"
"And every hour we spend running around without a plan is an hour wasted!" Ah'Ming shot back. "The prophet gave us three words: sink, replace, surrender. Don't you think aboriginal murals about hundreds of turtles might connect to that somehow?"
"How?! EXPLAIN how turtles relate to 'sink, replace, surrender'!"
"I don't know yet! That's why we need to INVESTIGATE—"
"Oh, INVESTIGATE," someone else mocked. "The newbie wants to play detective—"
"I AM a detective! According to the instance briefing, we're ALL detectives—"
"The instance briefing also said we were part of a TEAM," the woman from the red-and-gold guild said bitterly, tears still streaking her face. "And teams don't SPLIT UP. Teams don't let their members die alone in a forest because everyone else was too busy looking at CAVE PAINTINGS—"
The clearing went silent.
Ah'Ming's antennae drooped, looking like a sad and kicked puppy. "I'm sorry about your friend—"
"Don't." Her voice was ice. "Just... don't."
"This is painful to watch"
"They're all traumatized and turning on each other"
"Classic investigation instance group dynamics"
"Ah'Ming is RIGHT though"
"Doesn't matter if he's right, they're not listening"
Kael took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay. Here's what we're going to do. We need to make a decision, but we're all running on fumes. When's the last time anyone ate? Slept properly?"
Silence.
"Exactly." Kael looked around the clearing. "We have maybe two hours of daylight left. I propose we table the turtle discussion until tomorrow morning—"
"We don't HAVE until tomorrow!" Someone protested. "The zombies—"
"—only attack when we're moving through the forest," Kael finished. "They don't approach the lake. We don't know why, but they don't. So we're safe here for now. We rest. We eat. We calm down. And tomorrow, we make a rational decision about our next move."
"I vote we investigate the cave," Ah'Ming said immediately.
"I vote we find a way OFF this cursed island," Min countered.
"There ARE no boats!" Darius said. "We've checked! The water doesn't even MOVE, how are we supposed to sail on it?!"
"Maybe we BUILD a boat—"
"Out of WHAT? Dead trees and zombie juice?!"
"Everyone SHUT UP!" Kael's voice cracked like a whip. "We're not voting right now. We're RESTING. Understood?"
Grumbling, but nods.
Ah'Ming sat down heavily near the prophet and his caretaker, still clicking his fidget cube.
"You know you're right, don't you?" The prophet said quietly, wiping fresh blood from his nose with a increasingly-stained cloth.
"Doesn't matter if I'm right," Ah'Ming muttered. "They won't listen."
"They're scared. Scared people don't think clearly."
"Were you scared? When you used your ability?"
The prophet smiled weakly. "Terrified. Still am." He looked out at the too-still lake. "But fear doesn't change the truth. Sink, replace, surrender. Those words mean something. And I think you're the only one who actually wants to figure out what."
"What makes you say that?"
"Because everyone else just wants to survive. You want to understand." The prophet's eyes were distant. "That's either going to save us all or get you killed."
"Comforting."
"I don't do comfort. I do prophecy. And prophecy is rarely comforting."
"They need a unifying goal or they're gonna fall apart"
"Or a common enemy bigger than the zombies"
"Careful what you wish for lmao"
Everyone started busying themselves with random tasks around the new campsite. Some looking for food, water, good wood (though all within earshot of the camp, since nobody had the guts to go far (except for Ah'Ming, but he got yelled at when he tried to go far)).
Inventory check revealed a grim reality: they were running low on everything.
Food was scarce—most people had burned through their initial supplies days ago. Water was a constant issue since they couldn't store it. Medical supplies were nearly gone, used up treating zombie wounds and various injuries.
And morale was in the negatives.
"We need to do SOMETHING," the woman supporting the prophet said. Her name was Yuki, Ah'Ming had learned. "We can't just sit here and slowly starve."
"The forest is full of zombies," someone pointed out.
"The lake is creepy and still."
"The beach might have resources?" Ah'Ming suggested. "Where the helicopter crashed. Maybe there's stuff we missed."
"You said it was looted," Min said flatly.
"The helicopter was. But the beach is big. There might be other wreckage. Supplies. Something."
Kael considered this. "It's not a terrible idea. The beach is relatively open—we'd see zombies coming. And if there ARE resources..."
"Plus," Ah'Ming added, "I saw some palm trees. Coconuts. Fresh water source that doesn't come from the cursed lake."
That got people's attention.
"Coconuts," Darius repeated slowly. "Actual drinkable water that we can crack open fresh each time."
"And coconut meat," someone else added, stomach growling audibly.
"It's better than sitting here arguing about turtles," Min muttered.
Kael looked around the group. "Show of hands. Who wants to move to the beach for a few hours? Get resources, regroup, clear our heads?"
Every hand went up.
Even the people who'd been arguing raised their hands, exhaustion winning over stubbornness.
"Alright then." Kael shouldered his spear. "Beach trip. Everyone stays together. We move as a group. No splitting up. Understood?"
"UNDERSTOOD," everyone chorused, with varying levels of enthusiasm.