Warren’s scream ripped from his throat, raw and desperate, only to vanish into the oppressive darkness surrounding him. The abyss was vast and merciless, swallowing his voice like a bottomless maw. His arms flailed wildly, instinctively reaching for something—anything—to stop his descent, but there was nothing. No handholds, no ledges, no lifeline. Just the terrible, crushing emptiness of the void.


    The sensation of freefall consumed him. His stomach twisted in knots, the weightless drop gnawing at his nerves. The rush of wind was deafening, yet somehow eerily hollow, like the sound carried no weight or substance. The darkness pressed in on him from all sides, heavy and oppressive, as if it were alive, as if it were watching him.


    His heart pounded against his ribs, each beat a frantic drumroll heralding his doom. His thoughts spiraled in chaos, his mind refusing to accept what was happening. This can’t be real. This can’t be how it ends. But the chill of the air against his skin and the gut-wrenching pull of gravity told him otherwise.


    The fall seemed endless; the void stretching on forever. Warren contorted his body, desperate for any sense of direction, but the darkness was disorienting, an infinite sea of nothingness. Panic clawed at his chest, and his breathing grew ragged. He tried to scream again, but the sound caught in his throat, drowned by the overwhelming weight of his terror.


    The thought of death crept into his mind, unbidden and cold. He clenched his teeth, his fists tightening in defiance, but the void offered no reprieve. The fall continued, relentless and merciless, the sensation of helplessness gnawing at his sanity.


    And then, in a fleeting moment of clarity, a single, haunting realization struck him: there was no end in sight. Only the abyss. Only the fall. Only the silence waiting to devour him whole.


    A fragment of a memory struck him like lightning, even while falling: his sister’s face, her arms wrapped around him in an embrace, their foreheads touching. Confusion rippled through him. Was that real? He couldn’t comprehend it. One moment, he was trapped in a bizarre nightmare, and now he was plummeting to his doom.


    The others’ screams joined his—Maize, Elektra, Zabo—each voice raw with panic. Warren twisted his body mid-air, trying to glimpse the others, but the darkness made it impossible. His thoughts raced. Is this how it ends? A fall into nothingness?


    The ground—or something—was rushing up toward them fast. Warren’s stomach clenched. He braced himself for impact, muscles tensing as he prepared for the end.


    But then Maize’s voice cut through the chaos. “Hold on!” she yelled, and there was a sudden flash of light beneath them.


    From the depths of the choking darkness, a rapid flash of emerald light erupted below them. A massive trampoline-like plant unfurled with explosive energy, its enormous, springy surface stretching wide to catch their descent. The leaves shimmered faintly, their vibrant green tinged with golden veins that pulsed in rhythm with Maize’s power. The faint glow illuminated the void for just a moment, casting dancing shadows against the narrow walls of the abyss.


    The group hit the plant with a bone-jarring force, their screams blending with the groaning sound of the plant’s surface, absorbing the impact. It stretched and bent beneath their weight, a deep, elastic creak resonating through the air. For a terrifying second, it seemed as if the plant might tear under the strain, but then it snapped back with incredible strength, launching them into the air like rag dolls.


    They were flung upward, spinning and tumbling in midair, before gravity reclaimed them. This time, the landing was softer; the plant cushioning their fall with a satisfying, almost playful bounce. The group tumbled across the pliant surface, gasping for breath and clutching at whatever they could to steady themselves.


    Maize’s energy lingered in the air, the faint shimmer of her power slowly fading from the plant’s surface as it stabilized. The wide, springy leaves quivered slightly beneath them, holding firm despite the chaotic landing. For a moment, silence reigned, interrupted solely by their ragged breathing as they tried to process the sheer absurdity and miraculous timing of their survival.


    Warren groaned, rolling off the plant and landing on solid ground. His entire body ached, but at least he was alive. The others clambered off the strange, springy vegetation, their breaths ragged.


    They found themselves in a narrow space, walls of jagged rock pressing in on either side. The air was damp; the silence broken only by their labored breathing and the faint rustling of Maize’s plant as it withered back into the ground.


    Warren sat up, his mind still spinning. The memory of the nightmare lingered, sharp and disorienting. He clenched his fists, trying to make sense of it. I could’ve sworn… that wasn’t me. It felt like I was someone else entirely; he thought. The image of his sister still burned into his mind.


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    Zabo’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Hey, Sabir, man, snap out of it!”


    Warren turned to see Sabir slumped against the wall. His eyes were wide but lifeless, staring into some unseen distance. He rocked back and forth, muttering under his breath. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”


    Warren’s chest tightened at the sight. He crawled over, concern etched into his features. “What happened to him?” he asked.


    Zabo shook his head, frustrated. “I don’t know, man. He must’ve seen something terrible in that dream. Whatever it was, it messed him up.”


    “Dream?” Warren echoed.


    Zabo glanced at him. “Yeah, you saw one too, right? Something weird? I’m guessing it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows.”


    Warren hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… it was strange. It felt like I was in another person’s body. I don’t know how to describe it.”


    Zabo frowned. “Huh. That’s… random. Mine wasn’t like that.”


    Warren’s eyes flicked toward Maize, who was crouched nearby, untying the vines that had bound Saliba. She worked quickly, her hands steady, but her expression was grim.


    “What about you?” Zabo asked Maize, his voice carrying an edge of frustration. “Any explanation for all of this?”


    Maize didn’t answer. She was focused on Saliba, who looked far worse than Sabir. His body was trembling violently, his mouth frothing as if he were seizing.


    Elektra, who had been silent since the fall, stepped forward. Warren noticed her demeanor had shifted—her usual sharpness replaced by something cold and hollow. She knelt beside Saliba, her voice devoid of emotion. “Can you shut him up?” she said flatly.


    Zabo blinked, stunned by her detachment. “Uh, wow. Okay. Thanks for the help, I guess,” he muttered under his breath.


    Saliba’s trembling intensified. With a sudden burst of energy, he broke free from the vines restraining him. His movements were erratic, like a marionette controlled by unseen strings. Before Maize could react, his hands shot out, wrapping around her throat.


    Maize gasped, her fingers clawing at his grip, but Saliba’s strength was overwhelming. Her face turned red, her knees buckling as she struggled to breathe.


    Warren didn’t think—he moved. In one swift motion, he tackled Saliba, knocking him to the ground. The impact forced Saliba to release Maize, who fell to her hands and knees, coughing violently.


    Warren hovered over her, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.


    Maize nodded, though her voice was shaky. “I’m fine.”


    Zabo approached Saliba cautiously, his chains ready. “Yo, Elektra, you’re not gonna step in here?” he asked, his tone half-joking, half-exasperated.


    Elektra didn’t respond. She remained still; her gaze distant, as if she weren’t even present in the moment.


    Zabo sighed, scratching the back of his head. “Alright, guess it’s on me, then.” He crouched beside Saliba, keeping a safe distance. “Hey, man, you need to calm down. It’s all just a dream, okay? None of it was real.”


    Saliba didn’t respond. His body twitched violently, and a guttural scream escaped his throat. His eyes snapped open, glowing with an eerie light.


    “Uh… guys?” Zabo said, his voice rising in alarm.


    “You kids should quit while you’re still ahead.” Saliba grunted. Slowly his mouth wrenched open, an unnatural and jagged motion that seemed almost inhuman, and a stream of acid erupted upward with violent force. The corrosive liquid struck the low ceiling above, sizzling upon impact and spreading in uneven rivulets. Then, as if gravity sought vengeance, the acid dripped down—thick, viscous droplets falling directly onto him.


    The first drop hit Saliba’s shoulder, and the reaction was immediate and horrifying. His flesh bubbled and hissed, steam rising as the acid ate through muscle and sinew with merciless speed. His screams tore through the narrow space, raw and primal, but they didn’t last long. As more acid rained down, his body convulsed violently, his skin peeling away in grotesque, sloughing sheets. Veins and tissue disintegrated before their eyes, exposing glimpses of bone that quickly dissolved into the spreading mess.


    Saliba’s face was the last to succumb, his wide, terror-stricken eyes staring blankly as the acid melted away his features. His gurgling screams choked off into silence as his throat and chest collapsed inward, his form collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut. The air filled with the acrid stench of burning flesh, thick and suffocating, as the remains of his body dissolved into a grotesque, bubbling puddle of blood, acid, and viscera.


    The group stood frozen in collective horror; the image seared into their minds. The acidic puddle continued to hiss and steam, creeping outward slowly, as if the monster that had overtaken Saliba’s body wasn’t finished yet. The silence that followed was deafening, save for the faint, sickening sound of flesh dissolving into nothingness.


    “Holy shit!” Zabo stumbled backward, his chains clattering against the stone. He turned to the others, his face pale. “He just killed himself! What the hell do we do?”


    Warren helped Maize to her feet, his mind racing. He cast a glance at Sabir, still huddled in the corner, whispering to himself. The sight sent a pang of guilt through him, but he shoved it aside.


    “We keep moving,” Warren said firmly, his voice steady despite the chaos around him.


    The group exchanged uneasy glances, but no one argued. With Saliba gone and Sabir unresponsive, they had no choice but to press forward into the unknown.