He didn't constrict his breathing and let himself breathe calmly and quietly through his nose.

  There was a loud sound—bones clacking, movement heavy and powerful, like an armored vehicle passing by.

  It was an ant,Two of them. Great, white and so large that he realized the descriptions did them no justice.

  Their bodies were segmented, many components shifting and cracking, clicking. Their six legs were just as armored, but on the inside, they looked softer—exposed.

  The beasts' mandibles were open, resembling the Snapjaw ants he had watched as a child.

  They had no eyes. Instead, their neck plates moved up and about like the rolling caterpillar's, clacking—but also making a vacuum-sucking sound due to their massive size.

  His heart pounded. He waited. It felt like the movement of their neck plates and his heartbeat synced up.

  He wanted to banish the thought. But the idea that it may have sensed him sent chills down his spine.

  He shut his eyes. He did not look at the monster for almost ten minutes, he stayed frozen, until the sounds of the titanic beasts finally passed away.

  He stood and moved faster. The road was long, but at least he was getting there.

  —

  Finally, he was nearing the White temple. Then, the sound of another ant crept closer. He hobbled forward, sweating, clenching his jaw. I won't make it!

  Suddenly, someone ran out of the temple's entrance to meet him. Asha?!.

  She moved beside him helping carry the boy as they both stumbled into the shelter of the White Temple's exit.

  Matthew fell to his knees, breathing hard for a moment, watching as the ant—sensitive to sound— passed, with it's large white form and loud clanking armor, ignoring his labored breaths and continuing its heavy march.

  Surprisingly, Asha easily carried the boy in her arms. She looked at Matthew, happy. "If I knew you were coming too, I would have waited to help you."

  Matthew shrugged, exhausted, as they stumbled further into the White Temple.

  Their group members and others, shocked by their ragged appearance, ran toward them, surrounding them with questions.

  Jesse pushed forward before her hand covered her mouth in horror. "Matthew?! Are you alright?"

  He slowly looked down and realized he was drenched in blood. He shrugged. "Blood's not mine. But anyway, is Casey here? Take care of him, he has a concussion."

  He left to meet with Casey, who was already used to his bloody, ragged appearance.

  "I didn't say much last time," Casey muttered, "but you really do look like shit."

  Matthew wasn't in the mood to waste time. "You found it?"

  "Yeah, it's in the freaking safe point itself. I got in when the guard went in. And I heard them talking about it. I moved the rock hiding it as quietly as possible, considering how heavy it is for a hollow rock."

  "I made it through the passage. It's long and cramped—barely big enough for two people to squeeze past. It leads to the other exit's corridor."

  He pointed at the opposite exit on the other side before frowning and scratching his head.

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  "I was a little confused when I got out. The entrance is kind of hidden, but I waited there for a while, a little scared about where to go. And I couldn't go back, so—"

  Matthew sighed impatiently. "What happened?"

  Casey scratched his head. "Thomas and his guys saw me. They helped me get back, but I had to eventually tell them that it led to our safe point."

  "Doesn't matter. Look, our next step should be smoking them out. I need your smoke mask."

  Casey handed it over unwillingly. "You're going to smoke them out and then go down the tunnel?."

  Matthew nodded. He dropped off his bag with Jackson, who stared at him strangely.

  Matthew inquired, "You doing alright?"

  Jackson shrugged. "Yeah… thanks to you guys, I guess."

  Matthew frowned, but there wasn't enough time to dwell on that.

  Asha walked up to him, pushing through the questioning crowd, drawing a lot of eyes as they watched them.

  She stared at the mask in his hand and the food he had just dropped off. "What are you doing?"

  He was busy unpacking his bag, so Casey took the opportunity to explain.

  Matthew left the food with a black-haired girl with beautiful, faint blue eyes. She smiled at him, and for a moment, he was actually moved by how pretty she was and had to smile back.

  She congratulated him. "This is beyond a good job. Everyone's been really hungry. You're pretty brave."

  Matthew found that assumption unfounded. A lot must have happened here.

  He nodded and looked away from her alluring eyes.

  He stood and began to leave, not wanting to draw more attention. He grabbed a fire bomb and a can of insect repellant.

  Before he could leave, Asha confronted him. "Hey, I understand this is your whole hero moment, but let me help."

  She was obviously higher-leveled. Matthew considered giving her everything and instructing her on what to do—it would make more sense.

  She was stronger, and throwing himself into the spotlight was against his entire philosophy.

  Yet, for some reason, this whole time, I couldn't imagine anyone else doing it—punching Vasilis' dumb face or retrieving my wish coin and telling him that he was wrong for attacking us.

  Asha took his hand and placed something into it. "The water came just a couple of minutes ago. Make a wish."

  Matthew nodded and struggled to find the right words to dissuade her. He always needed the right words, actions, and sometimes even the right mindset.

  Everything he had done in the last few hours was about following the consensus among the groups and trying to help them.

  He had no opinions himself—long ago, he had promised never to give his true opinions on a matter.

  He had promised himself to stay in his own lane and respect the law of the jungle. He was an ant, the same as everyone else, but walking out of line was asking for consequences.

  Maybe that's why I hate Vasilis so much. Can't he see where everything is heading? Does he think he can fight against everyone?

  Matthew rubbed the back of his head and tried to play it off.

  "You know, I actually don't deserve—"

  "Shut up, man. I'm giving you this because I believe you'll do what's right. In other words, you're more capable than me. I trust you'll use it well," she explained softly.

  There was her usual smile on her face, but this one felt uplifting to Matthew—made him feel worthy in a way, stoked that part of him he always suppressed.

  That part that wanted to make a wish. That wanted to punch Vasilis in the face.

  The quiet part of him.

  The one he had worked hard for the last fifteen years to silence.

  He had to make the rational choice, the right decision that would prevent people from talking about him, from thinking about him.

  He had to protect himself no matter what.

  Yet here was Asha, her eyes bright with unfettered belief in him.

  How does that make sense? How could it be possible? What was it that she sees that I couldn't?

  He accounted for everything—meticulously scrubbed his assumptions and profiles of everyone in his mind yet he couldn't understand.

  Matthew laughed weakly, struggling. "I see what you did there. Is this where I give someone else the coin?"

  "Try it, and I'll punch you. Take care, 'cause I'm level three."

  He was about to retort when someone walked up to them and convince her to take back the coin.

  It was Jesse.

  She kept a strange distance between them rubbing her left arm, her eyes hurt and wet—resembling a dim, rain-soaked emerald.

  He could understand why she'd be affronted by him ignoring her in his rush, but...

  Why do you look so hurt? Why does it matter so much to you?

  Jesse's voice was shaky. She stumbled over her words like they weren't hers and sniffed lightly to prevent herself from crying.

  "I know it's not my place to slow you guys down. Casey told us… I–I know so much is happening, but… I… I'm glad you're safe. Sorry about that, I'll leave—"

  Matthew grabbed her hand weakly. "Hey, it's alright. I'm glad to see you too."

  He should have let her leave.

  But instead, he told her about the wish coin.

  She stepped in to listen, looking up at him in the end—searching for something in his eyes.

  This was awkward. She was beautiful—hard to lie to, especially now.

  Confidence in someone you barely know? There's no reason for them to trust me, i've given them nothing about me. There's nothing here to think about

  Indulging myself like this—won't it throw away all the work I've done these years to distance myself from my emotions?

  Jesse smiled, her eyes still wet with unshed tears. The pain hiding behind them seemed to lessen, a silent peace filling them.

  "You aren't the most impressive person, but… I do feel you want this too, don't you? I believe that it's the right choice too."

  Matthew looked at her for a moment, he whispered to himself. "There's nothing in the world I should want."

  He turned to the fountain and walked up to it.

  He flipped the coin in his hands and closed his eyes.

  Please—I wish for something that will help me. To save the others. To save me too. I wish for something that will help me understand what to do.

  He threw the coin in. Brilliant light swept the room. A warm gust of air washed over him.

  For a moment, he felt like he was home. But not in that dark apartment in Sheffield, instead it was the cottage in Bibury.

  With his dad and mum. Running about with his teddy bears, pretending they were in a story.

  A soft tear fell down his face. His father had loved stories. He had read so many books, and they had been gifted to Matthew when he passed.

  But they had been hard for Matthew to read. Every Terry Pratchett book was tinged with a part of his father.

  Then, as the unnatural beam of light rose from the fountain and struck him in the chest—he saw him.

  Matthew's dad was almost an exact copy of him. Bushy, unkempt black hair. A thick beard. But his blue eyes were different.

  Behind those gold-rimmed glasses, they were playful. Carefree. Different from how he was at the end.

  Then, the status screen popped up automatically.

  Ariel has heard your wish. She dislikes your very existence and has branded you Betrayer. She has combed through the World beyond what eyes may see and called upon a weapon she feels suits your abominable existence.

  A dark and envious sword answers the call.