The storm outside had quieted to a low rumble, but the weight of uncertainty still lingered.
Noah sat on a flat rock deeper inside the cave, his head in his hands. His thoughts churned in a relentless storm, much like the winds outside, too turbulent to grasp, too chaotic to organize. Every time he tried to make sense of their situation, his mind refused to cooperate, rejecting the idea of being stranded in this strange world.
The cave walls felt as if they were closing in on him, a constant reminder of how helpless they were. How powerless. He barely noticed the shift in the air as someone approached until a voice cut through the fog in his mind.
"Noah," Ryan called out, his voice calm, but there was something beneath it—concern, maybe.
Noah lifted his head slowly, his face pale from the stress. "Yeah?"
"We're having a meeting," Ryan continued, his tone matter-of-fact. "About survival. You should come."
Noah hesitated for a moment, his eyes scanning the dim cavern, the cool, still air. His throat felt tight, but he knew there was no point in staying here alone in his head. With a simple nod, he responded, "Okay."
They moved in silence through the winding stone corridor, their footsteps echoing softly in the cavernous darkness. The deeper they ventured, the more Noah noticed the cave's subtle features—veins of strange minerals running through the walls, glinting faintly in the torchlight, and eerie marks of erosion, as if the place had been worn down by time itself. It felt ancient—alive, even.
This cave runs deeper than I thought, Noah mused as they walked. The feeling of being swallowed by the darkness grew stronger with every step.
Before they stepped into the next open chamber, Noah spoke again, breaking the silence between them.
"Why'd you invite me to this meeting?"
Ryan paused for a beat. The question seemed to catch him off guard, but he quickly recovered.
"Because," he began slowly, choosing his words carefully, "you're smart. When we woke up here, you didn't panic. You assessed the situation. Calm and composed. That kind of thinking... we need it."
Noah raised an eyebrow. He's not wrong. Despite the chaos, he had stayed level-headed. Something inside him had refused to let fear take over. Guy's got good observation.
"Thanks," Noah muttered, although he didn't fully know how to take the compliment. He wasn't used to praise. It didn't sit right with him.
They reached the wide open space ahead. The dim light from flickering torches painted the walls in shifting shadows, making the entire room feel unstable, as though it might collapse at any moment. The others were already gathered, their faces half-hidden in the gloom—eyes vigilant, expressions cautious. They watched as Noah and Ryan entered, their gazes cutting through the dimness, assessing the newcomers.
And then Noah saw her.
The girl who had led them earlier.
Her presence was striking. It wasn't just her beauty—though she was undoubtedly beautiful—it was something deeper. Her eyes weren't just dark; they were unknowable, endless, like staring into a void that had seen eons of existence. They reflected the cave's faint light in ways that made them seem almost alive, as though they remembered the stars dying and had watched it all from the edge of time itself.
Her black hair moved as if it had a will of its own, drifting as though in water, catching flashes of lightning as it cascaded over her shoulders. She seemed otherworldly—distant.
Damn, Noah cursed inwardly. She's something else.
His gaze lingered for only a moment before he forced himself to look away. He didn't want to appear distracted—not in front of these people.
He scanned the rest of the group.
A young man with red hair and striking crimson eyes stood nearby. There was a charm to him, a confidence that bordered on arrogance. His posture was a little too relaxed, almost as if he were too comfortable in his surroundings, despite the chaos. Eager to impress, Noah thought, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Then there were the twins. Silver-haired, both of them with piercing silver eyes that seemed too sharp to be completely human. They were beautiful, but there was something cold in the way they carried themselves—distanced, like they viewed everything through a layer of frost.
Ryan stepped forward, breaking the silence. His voice cut through the tension that had built up in the room.
"Let's start by introducing ourselves," he said, his voice strong and clear. "I'll go first. I'm Ryan, first son of the Blade family."
The mention of the Blade family was enough to stir a murmur from the others.
"Whoa," the redhead spoke up, his voice filled with genuine surprise. "The Blade family? One of the Five Great Families?"
Ryan nodded, slightly embarrassed by the attention. "Yeah."
"Wow," the redhead said, eyes widening with admiration. "That's cool. Alright, I'm Lucan, from the Thornshield family. Not one of the Five, but we—"
"I'm Aeris," the dark-haired girl cut in, her voice flat, uninterested. She didn't offer any information about her family, and from the look on her face, it was clear she didn't care to.
The twins stepped forward next. One of them spoke for both of them, the other silent, her eyes downcast.
"My sister's shy, so I'll speak for both of us. I'm Mizuki. This is Mikazuki. We're from the Tsukimori family. One of the Five."
There was a noticeable shift when Noah's turn came. The others turned toward him, but he could feel the weight of their gaze, the judgment in their eyes. Shit, he thought bitterly. Privileged, pampered brats.
He straightened his back, ignoring the discomfort, and said bluntly, "I'm Noah. Orphan. Grew up on the outskirts."
The room grew still. Eyes moved away almost immediately, as though his words had poisoned the air. The interest in him evaporated like morning mist before the sun.
Except Ryan. He didn't look away.
Fuck all of you, Noah thought, his jaw tightening as his gaze flicked briefly over the group. He didn't care about their opinions, not anymore. I'm not one of you.
The introductions faded into the background as Ryan stepped forward again, his expression serious, his voice cutting through the atmosphere.
"We're not on Earth," Ryan said. "As you all know, we're trapped in the Trial of Anubis. But if we act like prey, this world will consume us."
His voice echoed off the cave walls, each word heavier than the last. There was no bravado in his tone—just cold, unyielding truth.
"We need to organize ourselves. No one's coming to rescue us. This place doesn't care about names or bloodlines. It only understands strength—and the will to survive."
Noah crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, his gaze flickering over the others. He could feel their eyes on him—some dismissive, some calculating. Let them look, he thought, already working through ideas in his head: rations, patrols, defense plans, contingencies. He wasn't going to waste time. Not here. Not now.
Lucan raised his hand lazily. "So… what's the actual plan? We can't just sit here and wait."
Ryan nodded. "We form groups. Scouting. Defense. Gathering. No one sits idle. Everyone contributes." His gaze lingered briefly on Aeris, who seemed utterly indifferent, her expression neutral.
Mizuki's voice followed—soft, but edged with ice. "We can't afford dead weight. If someone can't fight, fine. But they better be useful in other ways."
Noah's jaw tightened, but he remained silent. His lack of a response spoke volumes.
"I'll scout," Aeris volunteered. Her voice cut through the tension like a knife. "Alone, or with one or two. I'm used to it."
"I'll go with her!" Lucan blurted out, the eagerness in his voice betraying his attempt to impress.
Aeris didn't even spare him a glance, her eyes unwavering, cold.
Ryan moved on. "We need to ration what little we have. I've heard time moves differently here—at least five times faster than Earth. We need water, shelter. We can't afford to be trapped if we're attacked."
"I can track," Mizuki said, her voice soft but purposeful. "My family trained me in survival. I can sense shifts, maybe even trails. Not strong yet, but it's there."
Mikazuki, as expected, said nothing. She stood close to her sister, clinging to her like a shadow.
Noah finally spoke, his voice dry and low. "You'll need someone to keep track of what we find—routes, resources, safe zones. Otherwise, we're blind. I can map as we go. I can scout too."
The room fell silent. Ryan's eyes lingered on Noah for a moment, as though weighing the truth of his words.
"You can do that?"
Noah nodded. "Yeah. I've been watching everything. Even the storm—there's a rhythm to it. The cave entrance faces north. Lightning always hits from a fixed angle. Something's off with the magnetic pull here. This place... it's different."
Lucan raised an eyebrow, impressed despite himself.
"Alright," Ryan said, a slight nod of approval in his voice. "You're our scribe. And analyst."
Noah didn't react outwardly. But inside, something shifted. A small, subtle sense of purpose began to form. They want me to be useful. Fine. I'll show them.
"We start tomorrow," Ryan said. "Tonight, we sleep in pairs. Shifts. We don't know what hunts here at night."
As the group murmured and began to scatter into smaller groups, Aeris walked past Noah.
She didn't say a word.
But her eyes flicked toward him—just for a moment. A fleeting glance, so quick that it might've been imagined.
Not pity. Not curiosity.
Recognition.