Nathan surveyed the various groups within the earthen fortress, his eyes filled with suspicion. He wasn’t sure who to trust—he felt reasonably confident ruling out Bree and Chad, though he didn’t know Bree well enough to be certain. For now, his primary suspicion fell on Derek.

  But then again, could this be some kind of ploy by the wanderers? A scheme to drive them all mad with paranoia? There was no way to know. Was Derek simply an idiot, or was he malicious? What about Bree? Or the old man? Nathan had no answers.

  He didn’t sleep a wink that night, too anxious and worried that someone with a bomb strapped to their chest might try to approach him in his sleep. Thankfully, his Constitution was high enough that a single sleepless night didn’t seem to affect him much, but it still left him on edge.

  The night passed quietly, and nothing happened.

  The next morning, they packed up and prepared to head out. As they walked through the forest, Nathan kept his body relaxed but ready, just in case someone decided to pull a dagger on him.

  Around him, the sunlight flickered in between the leaves of the tree. In the distance, he thought he heard a bird.

  Footsteps approached from the side. “Hey, you okay?”

  Nathan glanced over at Chad. “I’m pretty sure somebody wants to kill me.”

  “There are a lot of people who want to kill you… which isn’t something I ever thought I’d say with 100% sincerity,” Chad replied, tilting his head. “Can I ask how you know this?”

  “The voices in my head told me so.”

  Chad turned away from Nathan’s face and stared out at the horizon.

  “Oookaayy,” he said slowly. “I regret asking.”

  “Maybe I should do a little interrogation,” Nathan said.

  “Maybe I should do it. Because you’re clearly not all there right now.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Exactly. That’s the problem.”

  They approached Bree.

  “Nathaniel, Chad,” she nodded at them. “Good to see you’re in good health.”

  “Yeah, thanks!” Chad said. “We were actually hoping we could get to know you better.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Why, exactly?”

  “Oh, you know, you’re our glorious leader, but I feel like I barely know anything about you—”

  “Don’t lie. You people are terrible at it.”

  Chad’s expression froze in an awkward smile. Nathan drummed his fingers against his side, arms crossed, before stepping a little closer to Bree.

  “I have reason to believe someone is planning to kill me here.”

  “That’s quite an accusation,” Bree said.

  “It is, but better safe than sorry.”

  “And now you’re going around interrogating the various members of the party?” Bree asked. “Not a bad plan. You could’ve let me in earlier—I think having a living lie detector would’ve been pretty helpful.”

  Chad’s eyes flickered toward Nathan, measuring his reaction, before giving the slightest nod. “Right, well, who’s the most likely suspect? Derek?”

  “I obviously haven’t known him for long, but I don’t think there’s any real reason to believe he’d murder someone… but we should still check,” Bree said. “We can safely rule out my lieutenants. I’ve known them since the tutorial, so that pretty much clears them.”

  “What about the vets? Any thoughts on them?”

  “They’ve got the power. I think they’re all in the top 10,000. Still, they act more like wounded animals than killers. They’re too old, they’ve seen too much—they’re only here out of necessity. I don’t think they’re murderers. If it’s going to be anyone, it’s probably Derek or one of his lackeys.”

  “So I guess we’d better get to interrogating them, huh?” Nathan said.

  Bree nodded. She turned and shouted at the group. “We’re taking a break! Everyone sit down!”

  Nathan and Chad made their way over to Derek, who was leaning against a tree, sharpening his sword with a whetstone. His two lackeys—a wiry, sharp-eyed man named Jeremy and a burly, silent woman named Mel—stood nearby, watching the pair approach with suspicion.

  “Derek, my man, what’s up?” Chad said

  Derek didn’t look up from his blade. “My sword. My sword is up, about to impale itself through your ass unless you get away from me.”

  Chad laughed. “Funny! Anyway, we were hoping we could learn a little more about you.”

  Derek finally looked up, his eyes narrowing. “Eat shit and die.”

  Chad’s smile didn’t waver, but Nathan stepped forward, his arms crossed. “Someone’s planning to kill me, and we need to know if it’s you.”

  Derek paused, his sharpening slowing as he raised an eyebrow. “Wait, what? Someone’s trying to kill you?” He let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Why? What the hell did you even do to piss someone off that badly? And where’d you even get that info? Sounds like paranoia to me.”

  “I have my sources. And it’s not paranoia if it’s true.”

  Derek snorted, sheathing his sword. “Yeah, okay. Look, I don’t like you, Nathan. You’re arrogant and irritating. But killing you? That’s not my style. I’ve got bigger problems to deal with.”

  “Like what?” Chad asked.

  “Like her,” Derek said, jerking his head toward Bree, who was still standing at the edge of the group. “She’s a terrible leader. She’s too cautious, too soft. We’re in a war, and she’s acting like we’re on a picnic. If anyone’s going to get us killed, it’s her.”

  Nathan exchanged a glance with Chad. Derek’s disdain for Bree was palpable, but his hatred seemed directed more at her leadership than at Nathan personally. Still, they couldn’t rule him out entirely.

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  “What about your lackeys?” Nathan said, nodding toward Jeremy and Mel. “You trust them?”

  Derek smirked. “They’re loyal. But if you’ve got questions for them, go ahead. Just don’t waste my time.”

  Nathan and Chad turned their attention to Jeremy and Mel. Jeremy was lean and wiry, with a sharp, calculating gaze. Mel, on the other hand, was broad-shouldered and silent, her arms crossed as she stared them down.

  “So,” Chad began, “either of you got a reason to want Nathan dead?”

  Jeremy smirked. “Oh, yeah, totally. I wake up every morning thinking, ‘How can I make Nathan’s life harder today?’”

  Nathan frowned. “This isn’t a joke.”

  “Neither is my answer,” Jeremy said. “I don’t care about you, Nathan. You’re not worth the effort.”

  Mel remained silent, her expression unreadable.

  “What about you?” Chad asked her. “Got anything to say?”

  Mel shrugged. “If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.”

  Chad raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s… reassuring.”

  Nathan studied them both. Jeremy’s sarcasm and Mel’s bluntness didn’t exactly clear them of suspicion, but they didn’t seem like immediate threats either. Still, he made a mental note to keep an eye on them.

  Nathan leaned against a gnarled oak tree, its bark rough against his shoulder as he studied Chad's expression. The forest around them seemed to hold its breath. Even the usual rustle of leaves had died down to an eerie stillness.

  "Look, I know Derek's the obvious choice," Nathan said. "But something about this doesn't add up."

  Chad gave him a long look. "Look, I trust you, dude, but are you sure this isn't just paranoia? After everything that's happened..."

  "You're right about Derek being too obvious," Bree cut in, her tone measured. "But Nathan, we've been chasing shadows for weeks now. At some point, we have to consider that maybe we're seeing conspiracy where there isn't any. For that matter, you still haven’t explained where you got this information from.”

  Nathan met Chad’s eyes. “It’ll take too long to explain and I’ll sound insane. But I think this is a legitimate threat. Please, just go with me on this.”

  Chad clicked his tongue. “Fine.” He glanced at Bree. “Did you pick up anything when we talked with Derek?”

  Bree shifted her weight, drawing their attention. ”My ability confirms it," she said. "When we questioned Derek and his people, there was no deception in their words. Just the usual political maneuvering."

  "Great," Nathan muttered. "So we're back to square one." He ran a hand through his hair.

  Chad's lips quirked into a half-smile. "You know what's funny? For all Derek's posturing, he's probably the least likely suspect. Someone targeting you wouldn't broadcast it like that." He paused. "They'd be smart enough to stay under the radar."

  "Which means we need to look at everyone," Bree said. "Even the unlikely suspects."

  "The vets," Nathan said, thinking of the old man who’d defended him. "We should talk to them next."

  Chad groaned, the sound carrying more theatrical weight than actual protest. "The vets? Come on, man. Leave the poor guys alone, they’ve been through enough.”

  "That's exactly why we should talk to them," Nathan insisted. "They're the perfect cover—everyone dismisses them, barely pays attention to them. Who better to notice things nobody else does?"

  "Or they could just be exactly what they seem," Chad said. "A bunch of old-timers who shouldn’t really be here.”

  Bree's expression remained neutral, but Nathan caught the slight narrowing of her eyes. "Either way, we need to be thorough. My ability works best in direct conversation—if we talk to them, at least we can rule them out definitively."

  "Fine," Chad said. “But when this turns into another dead end, I reserve the right to say 'I told you so.'"

  The vets were seated in a circle. The old man Nathan had spoken to before sat at the center, his gnarled hands resting on his knees as he stared into the fire. His eyes, though clouded with age, held a sharpness that belied his weathered appearance. The others—a scarred woman and a one-armed man—sat silently beside him, their expressions distant and haunted.

  Nathan's hand instinctively brushed his weapon as they approached. The old man had been helpful before, sure, but these days that didn't mean much. The man looked up as they drew near, his gaze settling on Nathan.

  “Boy?" he said.

  "Yeah," Nathan said, nodding. "We've got some questions. Mind if we join you?"

  The old man gestured to the ground in front of the fire. "Suit yourselves."

  Nathan sat down, Chad and Bree following suit. For a moment, no one spoke, the crackling of the fire filling the silence.

  "We're trying to figure out who might want to kill me," Nathan said finally, cutting straight to the point. "And we thought we'd start by ruling people out."

  The old man raised an eyebrow. "And you're talking with us?"

  "Yeah," Nathan said. "You've helped before. But I need to be sure."

  The old man chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. "Smart boy. But you're wasting your time. We've got no quarrel with you. We've seen enough death to last a lifetime. We're not looking to add to it if we can avoid it."

  Nathan studied the man's weathered face, looking for any sign of deception. "Can I ask... why you're here? I mean, you're a veteran. You fought on earth. Why fight again? Why stick around in the Third Circle?"

  The old man's expression darkened, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then he sighed, his shoulders slumping as if weighed down by an invisible burden.

  "I had children once," he said, his voice low and heavy with grief. "Two sons and a daughter. Bright, brave kids. They didn't deserve what happened to them."

  Nathan frowned. "What happened?"

  "The circles took them," the old man said, his voice trembling. "One by one, they fell, each in a different circle. My eldest went first—thought he could take on a monster alone. My daughters, twins… they were clever, but cleverness isn't always enough. And my youngest..." He trailed off, his hands clenching into fists. "He was just a boy. Too young for this. Too young to die."

  The fire crackled, the sound unnaturally loud in the heavy silence that followed. Nathan felt his earlier suspicion melting away. The pain in the old man's voice was too raw, too real to be faked.

  "I understand," Bree said. "I lost someone too. My son. He was only twelve when he entered the circles. I thought I could protect him, but..." She trailed off. “He didn't make it."

  The old man looked at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as if seeing her for the first time. "You know the pain, then," he said, his voice softer now. "The weight of it. The guilt."

  Bree nodded, her gaze steady. "Every day. But I keep going because I have to. Because if I don't, then his death... it'll all be for nothing."

  "Exactly," the old man said, nodding. "Some deaths serve a purpose. That's what keeps me going. Every soul claimed by the circles brings us closer to—" He stopped abruptly, his jaw tightening.

  "To what?" Chad asked, his voice unnaturally calm.

  Nathan glanced at his friend, surprised by his tone.

  "To making things right," the old man said quickly.

  "How long were you in the tutorial circle?" Chad asked.

  The old man's expression didn't change. "Same as everyone else. Few days, maybe a week."

  “He’s telling the truth,” Bree said.

  Chad narrowed his eyes. Nathan glanced at him. What was Chad thinking?

  Chad leaned forward. “Something doesn’t hold up.”

  "Chad," Nathan started, but Chad held up a hand.

  "Your four children died in different circles?" Chad continued. “We've only been through the tutorial and three circles. And nobody's died in the Third yet—we just got here. So either you somehow got confused, or your kid died in the past three days or—"

  “That’s exactly what happened—“ the old man interrupted.

  “Or you’re tricking us. Do you remember how long the Harrowed Hand’s tutorial was?” Chad pressed. “A hell of a lot longer than a week. That’s how he built his organization. And you tried to deceive us earlier, make us think it was shorter.”

  The old man blinked slowly. “I did not decieve you. Bree confirmed it.”

  “You said it took a few days, maybe a week." He paused, watching the old man's face. "Thing is, I've spent enough time reading people to know when someone's leaving out important details. When someone's trying too hard to seem normal."

  The scarred woman and one-armed man exchanged sharp glances, their hands moving toward their weapons.

  "Most folks who make it through the tutorial, they're precise about how long they were there," Chad said. "It's kind of a big deal. You count the days, waiting, wondering. But you brushed past it, like you didn't want us thinking too hard about it."

  The old man was still. “Bree confirmed it—“

  “Bree relies on bodily reactions. Heartbeats. Microscopic vibrations and movements.” Chad crossed his legs. “You know what I think? I think you figured out how to trick Bree’s abilities. Didn’t think that anyone would push if she signed off on you, especially with that old man persona. Unfortunately for you, I’m kind of a stubborn asshole.”

  The old man didn’t say anything.

  “I’m just gonna throw it out there. Are you a member of the Harrowed Hand?" Chad asked.

  Nathan's blood ran cold as the pieces clicked into place. The old man's face had gone completely still.

  The old man froze. For a split second, his expression faltered—a flicker of something dark and unreadable passing over his face. Then it was gone, replaced by the same weary calm as before.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice steady.

  Bree grimaced. “He's lying.”

  The scarred woman and the one-armed man exchanged a glance, their hands moving toward their weapons.

  Nathan tensed, his instincts screaming at him to move. "Chad—!” he started, but it was too late.

  The old man's hand flashed out, a dagger appearing in his grip as if from nowhere. The blade gleamed in the firelight as it arced toward Nathan's throat.