Chapter Twenty-Eight:

  "Gathered by the Fire"

  The trek to the campsite had been long, silent, and heavy. No one had spoken much, not after what they had seen. The survivors moved without purpose, their steps uneven, their bodies dragging with exhaustion. Even the Pyre Flies, ever-present in the depths of the forest, pulsed faintly, their glow echoing the quiet unease settling over the camp.

  By the time they broke through the tree line into the clearing, which held the Campsite, night had fully settled.

  Above them, the sky expanded vast and untouched, two moons, one red, one blue, hanging in quiet orbit. The stars glimmered between them, and for the first time since The Dive began, the realm around them felt open. No towering trees pressing in, no unnatural horrors waiting in the darkness. Just the peaceful evening.

  And yet, the emptiness wasn’t comforting.

  The first thing Keira did was light the fires.

  She lit them quickly, moving from pit to pit, their glow expanding across the clearing with each new spark. The wood snapped and crackled, sending waves of warmth into the cold night air. Players, battered and exhausted, moved sluggishly toward the light, silent and wide-eyed, their faces etched with the weight of the day.

  She felt the same exhaustion settling into her bones. But more than that, she felt the limit of her power.

  She watched the fire glow in the palm of her hand before tossing it into the last unlit pit. This wasn’t control, this was barely enough to matter. During the fight with the Chipmunk, her flames had been like a kid with a lighter and a can of hairspray, dangerous, yes, but barely controlled. If she was going to lead these people, if she was going to protect them, she needed more.

  A lot more.

  The fire’s glow finally illuminated the survivors fully. There weren’t many.

  Rachel stood near the center, her eyes held low as she processed the losses of the day. Tobias adjusted his shield on his back, his gaze swept the tree line, searching for threats that might or might not be there. David was already setting up what little healing supplies they had, his expression tight with exhaustion.

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  Keira took a slow breath, turning back to the crowd. Rachel exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Final survivor headcount, forty-seven."

  Forty-seven, that was all that was left. Out of the thousands who had entered The Dive in Boston. Out of the six hundred who survived their Insertion.

  Keira didn't respond. What could she even say? When people needed her most, she had failed to rise once again, but she couldn't allow herself to give up. Even if the guilt and doubt gnawed at her, twisting inside her like a wound that refused to heal. She would do what needed to be done to protect, no, to lead the ones who remained. She had to do everything she could to ensure that no one else died on her watch.

  But how?

  A silence fell over the camp. The number hung in the air like a weight no one could put down. Some sat down hard, others ran a hand over their face, as if trying to wake up from a dream they weren’t in.

  No one spoke at first.

  Then, finally, someone broke the silence. “What do we do now?”

  Keira didn’t have an answer. Not yet.

  Silence lingered after the question, pressing into the spaces between them. The survivors shifted uncomfortably, their faces half-lit by the unsteady firelight. No one wanted to be the first to speak.

  Rachel’s gaze swept over the group, her expression unreadable before she sighed. "We have food, shelter, and a temporary reprieve. That’s more than we had an hour ago. But this isn’t a celebration, it’s regrouping. We need to make a plan."

  Tobias crossed his arms, his shield resting against the ground beside him. "We need to decide who’s heading to Emberwood Village in the morning. It’s still half a day’s walk, and we have no idea what’s waiting for us, there or along the way."

  “Forty-seven of us,” Chris said, running a hand over the grip of his newly acquired blade, Souleater. His voice was steady, but there was something distant in his gaze. “I don’t care what’s in that village. Sitting here forever isn’t an option.”

  A low whisper passed through the gathered players. Some nodded, others stared into the fire, unwilling to meet anyone’s eyes. The weight of the number still hung over them all.

  David crouched beside a wounded Mage, his focus on the task at hand. "If we’re going to Emberwood Village, we stick to the plan, small group first. Too many moving at once is a risk." He pressed his palm over the injury, golden light flowing into the wound. "Mend." His breath grew heavier as the magic took hold. A thought summoned a vial of Mana Tears into his grasp. He drank swiftly, then met Keira’s gaze. "That means you."

  Keira exhaled slowly, steadying herself. She had known this was coming. "Yeah," she said. "I know."

  Rachel nodded. "Keira, Chris, David, and I will go. Tobias, you stay here with the others. If anything happens, they’ll need someone who can protect them."

  Tobias gave a firm nod, gripping his shield. "You can count on me."

  No one argued.

  A woman clad in knight’s armor, her Warhammer resting beside her, sat near the edge of the firelight and frowned. "Gameweaver’s been quiet since the Chipmunk fight. Too quiet."

  That unease settled over them all. Even as the Pyre Flies drifted overhead, their pulsing light weaving through the clearing, there was no mistaking the feeling pressing against them.

  She wasn’t just watching. She was here.

  She was everything.