Day 3 dawned quickly over the newfound campsite.
Maya stretched stiffly in the old tent where she had slept. The others were stirring as well, shaking off the weariness of a restless night. Rory was already awake, crouching by the old campfire, running a stick through the ash. His face was troubled, and Maya sensed something unspoken hanging heavy in the air between them.
When the others gathered—Ethan fussing over their food supplies, Lena tying her hair back, and Sam silently scanning their surroundings—Rory finally spoke.
"There's something I need to tell you," he said, his voice firm but quieter than usual.
The others looked at him. Maya's heart thudded harder than she expected. She knew what was coming.
"Last night," Rory glanced at Maya, then continued, "Maya and I saw… something. A red light in one of the trees. It was blinking. Like a camera."
The word seemed to hang in the air.
Ethan frowned. "A camera? Out here?" He let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "That doesn't make sense."
"I saw it too," Maya said quickly, before anyone could dismiss it, "It wasn't a firefly. It was too steady. Too… bright."
Sam crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. "And you didn't say anything last night?"
"We weren't sure," Rory admitted, "Didn't want to freak everyone out."
"Well, you're freaking us out now," Ethan muttered, "What are you suggesting—that we're being watched?"
The silence that followed was suffocating. Maya's throat tightened. She wanted to say yes, that was exactly what it meant, but hearing it out loud felt absurd. She didn't want the group to think she was being paranoid. Who would be watching them? Why?
Lena's hands trembled slightly as she adjusted her shoes. "Can we… go look?" she asked. "If it's real, if it's there, maybe we'll believe you."
The group retraced their steps to the area where Maya and Rory had seen the light. The forest was damp with morning dew. Rory led them, scanning the trees until he stopped beneath the one he was sure held the camera.
"There. Right there." He pointed upward, scanning the branches.
But nothing was there. No blink. No glimmer. No trace of any camera.
Ethan exhaled and shook his head, "See? Nothing is there. Your eyes are playing tricks on you."
Maya quickly responded. "We both saw it! I know it was there."
Rory's jaw tightened. "Someone moved it."
"Who?" Sam asked instantly.
No one spoke for several seconds. Sam then crouched at the base of the tree, brushing his hand against the bark as if searching for evidence, but found nothing. His face was turned away from them, and he smirked slightly before standing up and facing them again, shaking his head, "Nothing...not even wires."
Lena hugged her arms to her chest, her eyes darting nervously between them.
The group trudged back to camp in uneasy silence.
They used some canned meat they found in the crate and made stew for breakfast. They did more searching and found other items that didn't seem old: plastic bags, backpacks, jackets, tissues, and 2 old flashlights that barely worked.
Everyone was given one backpack, and they packed everything useful they could find.
Rory was skeptical as he picked up the flashlight, "If there were others here, where did they get all this stuff, and why would they leave everything?"
Ethan answered while stirring the stew, "No one knows. Maybe they died or were forced to leave."
Lena then spoke anxiously, "I wonder what happened to them..."
By late afternoon, the air in the forest shifted.
It began with wind—a sudden gust strong enough to rattle the leaves and tattered tents. The sky, once a clear pale blue, darkened unnaturally fast.
"This isn't normal!" Lena exclaimed, her hair whipping around her face in the wind.
Rain then poured heavily. Drops of water drenched them within seconds and caused the ground to become slippery. Maya held her backpack close to her chest, struggling to keep her footing.
Then suddenly, the ground shook.
It started as a tremor, a low vibration that made her teeth chatter. Then it grew violent, cracking branches overhead, sending loose stones tumbling down a nearby slope. Maya stumbled, nearly falling, before Rory's hand swiftly steadied her.
"Earthquake!" Ethan shouted, his voice strangled with panic.
The forest groaned around them, trees swaying dangerously. One snapped with a deafening crack and crashed to the ground, sending up a gush of dirt and leaves.
The group stumbled blindly through the storm, searching for shelter for about 15 minutes. Water blurred Maya's vision, her breath coming fast and shallow. She clung to Rory's arm, the earth still rumbling beneath them.
The group couldn't see the campsite anymore; they were lost.
Ethan then shouted, pointing to a cave, "Over here!"
The others rushed into the dark cave, panting heavily and trembling from the cold.
The rain hammered against the ground outside, but the rock walls shielded them from the worst of it. The tremors subsided, leaving only the echo of water dripping from the ceiling.
For several minutes, none of them spoke.
Maya's hands trembled as she wrung out her jacket. "That was terrifying," she said, still shaking.
"Yes," Rory agreed, his face pale. "That was too sudden. I've never experienced something like that before."
Sam shook his head, taking off his glasses. "Earthquakes happen. Storms happen. We're just… unlucky."
As the sun began to set, the temperature started to drop. Ethan lit a small fire using a lighter he found in one of the bags. The dampness seeped into their clothes. Maya's teeth chattered as she curled tighter around herself. Even Rory, who always seemed so steady, was shaking in the corner, his breath visible in pale clouds.
Lena was the worst off. She had gone silent, her breath shallow and uneven. At first, Maya thought she was simply cold, but then Lena's chest began to rise and fall too quickly, her hands holding her chest.
"Lena?" Maya crawled toward her, panic surging.
Lena's eyes were wide with fear and panic. "I can't—" she gasped. "I can't breathe."
"She's panicking," Ethan said, already at her side, "We need to calm her down."
"Lena, look at me," Maya said reassuringly, grabbing her cold hands, "It's okay. You're safe. Just breathe with me. In and out. In and out."
Rory crouched beside her, his voice firm but gentle. "You're not alone. We've got you."
"She's sick," Sam said grimly, placing a hand on her forehead, "A fever's coming on."
The group fell into uneasy silence. They huddled closer together for warmth, the cave damp and bitterly cold. Maya was pressed side by side with Rory, and he didn't move away. His shoulder was solid against hers, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself lean into it.
But as she lay there, listening to Lena's shallow breathing and the storm's relentless howl, Maya couldn't shake the thought clawing at the back of her mind.
This wasn't just bad luck.
This was something else.
{Control Room of E.D.E.N}
That Same Night
The scientists watched as the group struggled in the storm. Their faces were emotionless. To them, it was just another phase of the project. The seismic sensors still blared faint readings in red, but the visuals went dark. The last image before the feed cut was the group running to a cave. Lena's hair plastered to her pale face, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
Then nothing.
The cave was a dead zone—no surveillance, no microphones. Dr. Kessler didn't seem to care. To him, it was simply another stage in the trial. But to Jace, it was agony. His hands hovered uselessly over the console as he clenched his fists. He was filled with anger, hopelessness, guilt, and worry all at once.
"She won't manage," he whispered before he could stop himself.
Beside him, Dr. Kessler lifted a brow. "She?"
Jace's stomach turned. "They'll panic. Lena will—" He paused before he said the wrong words. His pulse hammered in his ears.
Kessler's lips twitched into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Ah. So we've named one of our subjects, have we?"
The room seemed to tilt. Everyone is looking at him and Dr. Kessler.
Jace wanted to sink into the floor. He hadn't meant to say her name, hadn't meant to break the barrier he had been holding up for days. But once spoken, the truth hung in the air, undeniable.
"Lena," Kessler repeated, "Subject B-3." He tilted his head, examining Jace with the precision of a scalpel. "Your attachment to her… is that why you've been so restless in my lab?"
"I'm doing my job," Jace said tightly, his throat dry.
"Are you?" Kessler's tone was mild, but the weight behind it pressed down like a stone. "Or are you undermining it with your… personal distractions?"
Jace's fists curled under the desk, nails digging into his palms. He wanted to shout, to slam the monitors to the ground, to storm into the Dome and drag Lena out with his bare hands. But he forced his breathing steady. Any sign of weakness now would doom not only him, but her.
"I'm sorry, sir..." he said in a low voice.
Dr. Kessler nodded and then walked to another scientist.
The room was quiet except for the constant hum of machines and the storm beating against the Dome overhead. The other assistants muttered quietly at their own stations, logging numbers, recalibrating sensors. Jace hardly noticed them. His entire world had shrunk to a single person beyond reach.
When the cameras flickered back to signal, the lens caught a glimpse of the cave's entrance.
And then he saw her.
Lena sat slumped against the wall, her knees pulled to her chest. Even in the dim view of the night vision camera, Jace knew her posture, knew the way her shoulders hunched when fear weighed too heavily on her. His chest tightened.
He zoomed the camera to max.
The others crowded around her, but he recognized the signs before they did—the trembling hands, and the way her lips chattered. Panic was stealing her breath, and they didn't see it yet.
"Breathe, Lena," he whispered under his breath, leaning closer to the screen. "Just breathe. You'll be ok."
Hours passed, and the group went to sleep. The other scientists had left and gone to their dorms. The digital clock on his desk read 1:30 am.
Jace sat motionless at his station, eyes locked on the dim view of the cave. Lena was resting now, her body curled up and covered with a big towel. But the fever was getting worse—he could see it in her face, the way her chest still rose unevenly.
The guilt clawed deeper.
And Jace could do nothing but watch.
He had promised himself when he took this position that he could do it—that he could gain enough money to buy a better house for them, bury his own feelings, treat the experiment as data. But every time she faltered, every time her life dangled on the edge of Kessler's merciless tests, the wall cracked. And it was only the 2nd Phase.
He pressed a hand over his eyes, praying, willing himself not to break under the pressure. He has to be strong enough to save her.
In his mind: Lena, just hang in there and wait for me. You'll survive. You have to.