Alexander arrived at their base and immediately dropped into a crouch behind a thick bush, keeping his body low as his eyes locked onto the structure in the distance. From afar, it looked eerily familiar—its infrastructure nearly identical to their own base, every line and corner built with the same rigid symmetry. Even the fence carried a symbol, a large shovel carved deep into the metal bars, looming like a quiet warning to anyone who approached.
The residence stood in complete silence.
Too silent.
No voices carried through the air. No footsteps scraped against the ground. No shadows flickered behind the windows where people should have been moving. Not even the faint rustle of conversation escaped the walls.
It was wrong.
All of it.
"Did they retreat? their security should be tighter than this."Alexander muttered quietly to himself, the words barely leaving his lips as his chest tightened with unease. His instincts immediately rejected the thought.
He rubbed his chin slowly, suspicion chewing through his thoughts like termites in old wood. His head lowered as he began creeping forward toward the fence, placing each step carefully as if the ground itself might betray him. His gaze remained fixed on the fence ahead, studying it like it might reveal some hidden answer.
Then—
"Alexander!"
The voice slipped through the air like a whisper riding the wind.
He froze instantly.
Every muscle in his body tightened, his breath halting halfway up his throat. The sound had been so faint that for a moment he wasn't even sure it had been real. It could have been the rustle of leaves shifting in the breeze.
Or something else entirely.
Slowly, cautiously, he turned his head.
Two familiar figures were kneeling in the shadows several meters away, each with one knee pressed into the earth. Their heads were slightly bowed, their bodies still and silent, but their posture carried the unmistakable tension of people waiting.
Bray cupped his hands around his mouth, keeping his voice low but urgent. "Come here!" he whispered sharply, swinging his arm toward himself in a quick beckoning motion.
Alexander crawled over toward them, keeping his movements controlled and quiet, though his pulse hammered loudly in his ears as he closed the distance.
Jamie knelt behind Bray.
His posture was still, his distant gaze unfocused, revealing a mind that seemed to be wandering somewhere far away from the moment.
"What are you thinking, going in alone?" Bray hissed the moment Alexander reached them, his tone sharp but carefully hushed.
"I had it figured out," Alexander replied calmly, matching Bray's volume with a deliberate whisper. As he spoke, his eyes drifted briefly toward Jamie's hair, where faint golden streaks still glimmered in the darkness like dying embers refusing to fade.
"How did you get the base back?" Alexander asked, curiosity pushing through his composure.
Bray's expression shifted slightly.
It looked as though he had swallowed something bitter and didn't want to taste it again.
He avoided the weight behind the question.
"Later," he muttered, brushing it aside with a quick shake of his head.
"What about Greg?"
Jamie's voice cut into the silence.
It carried a heavy edge, grief weighing down each word.
"He was killed by the commander…"
Jamie gave the smallest nod.
"We couldn't even find his body," Bray added, his voice flat and steady, refusing to elaborate further.
"Where are the others?" Jamie asked next, his tone suddenly firmer, almost commanding despite the sorrow lingering beneath it.
"Found it like this,they're hiding. Somewhere." Alexander replied, glancing back toward the silent base. His voice hardened slightly.
The three of them drew in sharp breaths at the same moment, realization spreading between them like a quiet spark catching fire.
"I have an idea," Bray said after a moment.
Their eyes locked together.
The silence between them carried tension thick enough to feel.
.....
[1:00]
"Hello, guys!" Alexander suddenly shouted, raising both arms high with his hands spread wide in mock surrender as he stepped into the open. His voice tore through the quiet base, loud, desperate, and deliberately reckless.
The sound echoed across the empty yard.
But nothing answered.
No footsteps.
No movement.
No voices.
The silence pushed back against him, heavy and suffocating, like an invisible hand pressing against his throat.
Alexander clenched his teeth tightly, sealing his lips as irritation crept across his face.
"I told you this was stupid," he muttered under his breath.
"You're not convincing enough," Bray growled quietly from the other side of the fence, frustration simmering beneath his voice. "Tell them about the golden point."
"That won't work."
"Just do it!"
Alexander hesitated.
The seconds stretched painfully long before he finally forced the words out.
"I… I have a golden point!" he shouted, his voice ringing awkwardly across the empty yard.
The declaration sounded hollow.
Fragile.
Even to his own ears, it lacked conviction.
Still—
Nothing happened.
A long sigh passed between the three of them.
Bray climbed over the fence first, gripping the bars and pulling himself over with practiced ease.
Jamie followed immediately behind him.
Phu!
Phu!
Their boots hit the ground inside the empty base with dull thuds.
Alexander stared at Bray with a sharp glare that said everything he didn't bother speaking aloud.
I told you it wouldn't work.
"I guess we push through, then," Jamie said, raising his voice slightly so it carried across the yard. The echo bounced off the silent buildings and returned to them like a distant threat.
Weapons materialized instantly in their hands, pixels sparking together in brief flashes before solidifying into lethal shapes.
Together they began walking toward the house.
Their steps were slow.
Deliberate.
But with every step the pressure in the air grew heavier.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
And time—time was slipping away faster than they liked.
Bray nodded once toward the front door.
Jamie returned the gesture silently.
Then—
The ground beneath them collapsed.
The floor vanished without warning, breaking apart beneath their feet and dragging them down into a wide, gaping pit. Its interior walls were smooth cement, perfectly polished, clearly constructed with careful intent.
This wasn't an accident.
It was a trap.
Below them, sharpened arrows pointed upward like the fangs of some waiting beast, ready to pierce through flesh the moment gravity delivered its prey.
"Ahhh!" their voices tore through the air as they fell.
"One Man Army!" Alexander roared.
Nine clones burst into existence beneath them, appearing instantly in flashes of light.
The copies stacked themselves beneath the falling trio, bodies forming a desperate human cushion.
Phu!
The impact thundered through the pit.
Wood snapped.
Metal clanged.
The sickening sound of bodies being skewered echoed through the trap.
Then silence.
The clones were gone.
But Alexander, Bray, and Jamie were still alive.
Their breathing came out ragged and uneven, adrenaline still raging through their bodies.
"Shit!" Bray spat, his voice sharp with anger as he pushed himself upright.
"That's One Man Army?" Jamie asked, disbelief and faint admiration mixing in his tone.
"Yeah," Alexander replied between breaths, each word dragged from the bottom of his lungs.
They had survived.
But only barely.
Dust drifted slowly around them as the trap settled, the pit now feeling more like a freshly dug grave.
"Told you it would work," Bray said while brushing dirt off his clothes, his smug tone instantly igniting fresh irritation inside Alexander.
Alexander clenched his jaw tightly, forcing himself not to shout.
"What's that?" Jamie suddenly asked, pointing toward a small metal handle embedded into the cement wall of the pit.
"It's a trap," Bray said immediately.
"It is," Alexander agreed calmly, stepping closer to it, "and that's why we're going."
Carefully stepping between the upward-pointing arrows, he reached forward and grabbed the handle.
Guiuuu!
The cement wall groaned loudly as it slid open, dust bursting outward into the air.
Lights flickered on along the corridor beyond, glowing brightly and casting long reflections across the smooth walls. The space looked far too polished, far too clean.
It didn't resemble Midgard anymore.
It felt otherworldly.
Jamie stepped inside first, his stride steady and confident.
Bray and Alexander followed close behind him, their nerves tight as wires.
The tunnel stretched forward before eventually splitting into three separate paths. Each entrance yawned open like a mouth, dark and ominous.
"We split," they agreed quietly.
Without another word, each of them stepped into a different tunnel.
Their figures quickly vanished into shadow.
Only the faint golden strands in Jamie's hair caught stray reflections of light before he disappeared completely.
A dim glow appeared further ahead in the tunnel, faintly revealing the outline of a person waiting in the distance.
Jamie moved slowly toward the figure, his hands resting casually inside his pockets while every muscle in his body remained ready.
"There's someone there," he thought.
But they're not alone.
Ever since the Glitch, his senses had sharpened.
And now every instinct inside him screamed danger.
"Welcome," a deep voice echoed through the tunnel, vibrating against the walls.
Five muscular men stepped forward from the shadows, their weapons gleaming faintly under the light.
Behind them, a single tunnel entrance remained.
"That's their plan," Jamie realized calmly.
Footsteps suddenly echoed from behind him.
Steady.
Confident.
Jamie didn't move.
Whoever was approaching was either an ally—
or an executioner.
"The light… shit!" Bray cursed from his own corridor, raising his arm to shield his eyes.
When his vision cleared, confusion struck him immediately.
There were only two tunnels.
"Where is Alexander?" he barked.
"He's with the boss," one of the men replied flatly.
Silence filled the chamber.
Jamie and Bray exchanged a sharp glance.
Concern flashed between them.
Meanwhile, Alexander stepped forward alone into the bright light.
A man waited there.
Slim.
Calm.
Glasses rested neatly on the bridge of his nose while a large white jumper hung loosely over his frame.
He sat comfortably in a chair, a confident smirk cutting across his face.
Between them stood a small table.
On top of it rested a checkerboard.
Every piece arranged perfectly.
Ready.
"Hi, Alexander," the man said, breaking the suffocating silence.
His smirk widened slightly.
"Let's play."