The march came to a halt at a massive, weathered wooden post driven deep into the earth. Hanging from a rusted chain was a small sign carved with a singular, bold 1.
Standing beside the marker was Sir Blue. He looked as impassive as ever, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes hidden behind his helmet's visor. He didn't offer a welcoming smile or a word of encouragement; he simply stood there like a sentinel, barely acknowledging they were even there.
"Squad 1," Sir Red barked, his voice swallowed by the forest in front of them, "This is your stop."
Henry watched the six silhouettes of Squad 1 shrink as they crossed the threshold into the deep gloom. The transition was immediate; as soon as they stepped past the marker, the vibrant daylight seemed to fail, swallowed by the canopy.
Ana's breathing was audible even from a few paces away, sharp, gasps that she was clearly trying to throttle. She looked small against the backdrop of the thick trees, her knuckles white where she gripped her weapon.
But it wasn't just Ana. Henry noticed a shift in the four Level 10 recruits, the ones who had been the picture of confidence back just a few hours before. As the sheer scale of the forest closed in around them, their casual stances stiffened. Their heads began to dart left and right, eyes wide and scanning the shadows for movement.
Even Recruit 13, who had been so eager moments ago, seemed to lose his luster. The bounce in his step vanished, replaced by a cautious, creeping gait as he followed the others into the brush.
Sir Red didn't linger much longer after they entered. He turned back to the remaining eight of them.
"Move it," he ordered. "Two more stops to go."
Another half hour of marching through the shadows of the mountains brought them to a second marker. This post bore a carved 2, and waiting beside it was Ma'am White.
Unlike the silence of Sir Blue, Ma'am White wore a sharp, predatory grin. She leaned casually against the marker, her eyes dancing as she took in the pale, sweat-slicked faces of the five recruits.
"There they are," she chirped, her voice cutting through the heavy mountain air. "So, Squad 2... You ready to go in there and have some fun?"
The recruits of Squad 2 offered no laughter. They looked genuinely terrified. Every one of them seemed to shrink.
Usually, Sir Red would have traded a quip or a laugh with her, but his face remained a mask of seriousness. "White, this isn't the time for jokes," he snapped, his tone devoid of any warmth. "Squad 2, you're up. Move out. Good luck."
The group hesitated. Seeing his teammates falter, Recruit 4 took a ragged breath and stepped forward. He squared his shoulders, summoning every ounce of courage he possessed.
"Come on, guys," 4 called out, his voice cracking slightly before he steadied it. "Follow me. We stick together, and we'll be alright. Just keep your eyes moving!"
He marched toward the treeline with a forced, stiff-backed confidence. It was a clear case of false bravado, but it worked. The others, feeding off his initiative, fell into line behind him and vanished into the twilight of the interior.
Sir Red turned to the final trio. "Alright," Sir Red said, "You three. Let's go."
The further east they marched, the more the mountain reclaimed the land. The path inclined sharply, forcing Henry to lean into the climb as his ears popped repeatedly from the thinning air. By the time they reached the post marked with a 3, they were significantly higher in elevation than the other two squads.
Sir Red took his place beside the marker. "Listen well," Sir Red said, his voice low and gravelly. "You three have the hardest starting location of any squad. The elevation is higher, the air is thinner, and the beasts here are hungrier. But remember this, success here leads to rewards."
The statement was cryptic, but none of them pressed for details. There was no room for curiosity, only the mission.
"Yes, sir," the three of them responded in a practiced unison.
Without a second look back, they crossed the line.
The transition was jarring. The moment they stepped under the canopy, the temperature plummeted. Above them, the titan trees formed a ceiling so thick that the midday sun was reduced to a few pathetic, needle-like rays of light piercing through the leaves.
Henry scanned their surroundings, his hand never leaving his sword hilt.
Most of the massive trees had a strange, sickly red tint to their bark, as if they had been stained with old blood. Interspersed among them were trees of a deep yellow and traditional brown.
There was almost no undergrowth. No bushes or shrubs cluttered the path, leaving the forest floor strangely bare. Instead, the ground was a treacherous field of jagged stones and moss-slicked boulders, remnants of the mountain peaks swallowed by the forest.
The most unnerving part, Henry noticed, was that there were no chirping birds, no rustling of small rodents, no insects buzzing. It was a dead zone for sound.
The deeper they climbed, the more the forest's character shifted. As the elevation spiked, the bigger trees, those red-barked giants, began to thin out, replaced by smaller, hardier ones. With the canopy no longer a solid ceiling, the sun's rays reclaimed the forest floor, fueling a sudden explosion of dense shrubbery and tangled undergrowth.
For the first mile, the silence between the three had been absolute, broken only by the crunch of moss and the heavy breathing of the climb. Henry and Recruit 7 moved with their heads on a swivel, eyes scanning every shadow for the flicker of anything that moved.
Suddenly, Recruit 1 stopped. She turned to face them, her expression as cold and impassive as a statue. When she spoke, her voice was a surprise; it was high and undeniably feminine, but it carried a flat, clinical tone that made her words feel like an executioner's sentence.
"I'm starting to get a bad feeling," she said. "So, I'm going to make myself clear. I'm in charge. You will listen to my orders, or I will abandon you."
Henry didn't hesitate. He wasn't interested in a power struggle; he was interested in surviving the next thirty days. He nodded once, a silent agreement to let the prodigy take the lead if it kept the unit from fracturing.
Recruit 7, however, reacted as if he'd been slapped. His face flushed a deep, angry red. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" he snapped, stepping toward her. "14 might sign up to be your slave, but I won't. I don't take orders from you."
Recruit 1 didn't even blink. She looked at Recruit 7 with the bored detachment one might show a spoiled child throwing a tantrum. "Okay then," she replied. "Leave us. Go ahead."
She stood perfectly still, waiting. The challenge was blunt and terrifyingly simple.
Recruit 7 opened his mouth to bark another retort, likely to tell her he'd do exactly that, but the words died in his throat. He looked past her at the dense undergrowth, a perfect hiding place for anything with claws, and then back at the mountain peaks looming above. The reality of being alone in this predator-filled labyrinth sobered him instantly.
He stumbled through his words, his bravado crumbling into a defensive mumble. "Maybe I will... later. Right now... I think it's better if we stay together."
Recruit 1 didn't offer a smug smile or a witty comeback. She didn't even acknowledge his surrender. She simply turned back around and continued the climb, her movements as fluid and efficient as ever.
Henry adjusted the strap of his pack and followed. He kept his eyes on the thick shrubs to their flanks. As they pushed further into the rising elevation, the air grew thinner, the brush grew thicker, and the forest's silence began to feel increasingly unnerving.