A heavy silence fell over the group.
The air still vibrated with the roar of the sea monster, and the salty mist clung to their faces.
No one dared speak. No one except Reo.
He crossed his arms, impassive.
"We already understand one condition," he declared. "All that's missing is the second one. "
But his words were lost in the void.
No response.
The survivors remained frozen, their haunted gazes fixed on the abyss where the Cetus had swallowed the unfortunate man's body.
The lapping of the waves echoed like a funeral prayer.
Reo sighed softly, almost exasperated by their silence, when a figure slowly stepped forward from the group.
Renta.
A man in his thirties, solidly built, his face marked by hardship, but with clear, determined eyes.
He had led his own group to victory in the first puzzle and had joined Reo's group after they arrived in the next area.
His reputation as a leader was well established.
One of his teammates stopped beside him, looking at him with calm seriousness.
"This time, Masaki, you're not going to be able to play the moralizer," he said in a low but firm voice.
His gaze then turned to the rest of the group.
"Things are getting complicated... There are two children here... and what we just saw is much worse than the first puzzle. "
The silence grew even heavier.
The two children, a boy and a girl barely seven or eight years old, were holding hands. Their eyes, wide and frightened, searched desperately for a reassuring face.
The older one tried to remain impassive, her lips pressed tightly together, while her brother, still too innocent, did not understand what was happening to them.
Masaki crouched down to their level.
His expression softened immediately.
He gently placed a hand on their heads, his tone becoming softer, almost fatherly.
"Hey... don't worry. The adults will take care of it, okay? You don't have to be afraid."
The boy timidly looked up at him.
Renta nodded slowly, keeping a calm smile despite the tension.
"Yes, I know what you're thinking. But that's why we have to think before we act. This bridge is dangerous, but we'll find a way to cross it. I promise you that."
He turned his head toward the other survivors, his hard gaze regaining its full force.
"It's up to us to fix this. This world may have become hell, but the children don't have to bear the burden."
A respectful silence followed his words.
Some bowed their heads in shame. Others nodded slowly, as if they had finally regained awareness of the situation.
Even Reo, behind his apparent calm, watched Masaki with a glimmer of interest mixed with a hint of annoyance.
Masaki, standing before them, suddenly seemed taller.
At that moment, he embodied the flame of humanity that chaos threatened to extinguish.
And, for the first time since arriving on this cursed bridge, the survivors found a little air in their lungs.
Masaki took a deep breath, trying to pick up the thread of his thoughts that he had left hanging since the beginning of the ordeal.
The roar of the ocean crashing against the invisible pillars of the bridge seemed to almost punctuate his thoughts. Then he looked up at the rest of the group and said calmly,
"Perhaps the name of the riddle hides part of the solution."
Everyone turned to him. The wind blew his dark hair as he stared into space, lost in thought.
"I mean... Oeneus' bridge, the Cetus... Maybe there's a connection between the two. Does anyone know their story?"
A frail-looking young girl, who had been standing slightly apart, timidly stepped forward.
Her hands trembled slightly, but her voice, though shaky, remained confident:
"That's impossible," she said. "Oeneus was the king of Calydon. He forgot to offer sacrifices to the goddess Artemis, and that's what caused the divine wrath.
As for the Cetus, it was a sea monster sent by Poseidon because of Cassiopeia's arrogance. There's no connection between them." "
Masaki raised an eyebrow, impressed.
"Interesting... How do you know all this?"
The girl hesitated for a moment, then replied, a little uncomfortable:
"My name is Aiyoko. I'm a history student... and... I'm very passionate about mythology."
A murmur ran through the group.
Masaki nodded slowly, a slight smile playing on his lips.
"A lover of ancient history, huh? That's lucky for us. Tell me, Aiyoko, do you perhaps also know what the Cetus ate?"
Aiyoko took a step back, her face losing some of its color.
"The... the Cetus?" she repeated.
She swallowed hard, then replied hesitantly:
"It's a sea creature, so... it probably fed on whatever was thrown into the sea. Offerings, perhaps... no, actually I'm not sure, it depends, according to some accounts."
She paused, then shook her head with a nervous laugh, as if realizing the absurdity of her own words.
"But... no. That doesn't make sense, does it? It's... it must be a setup. Some kind of test. My history teacher... he loves that kind of thing. He just wants to see if I've studied properly!"
Her eyes widened as she spoke, her voice rising in pitch.
" Yes, that's it! He must be behind this, it's a bad joke to test my knowledge! I knew I should have studied instead of going out drinking with my friends last night..."
She began to laugh nervously, but the sound of her laughter was lost in the silence of the group.
No one responded.
Their eyes were fixed on the void, or the bridge creaking in the wind.
And in Aiyoko's eyes, behind her clumsy denial, you could already see the beginnings of terror, that of a student who was beginning to understand that her nightmare was not just a simple exam.
Masaki placed a reassuring hand on Aiyoko's shoulder, trying to give her a soothing smile.
"Don't worry. We'll find a solution, okay? It's just a matter of time."
She nodded half-heartedly, her eyes fixed on the bridge stretching out before them, as if she feared it would collapse at the slightest breath.
Masaki, meanwhile, sensed a new commotion behind him. Voices, firmer and more confident, were rising. He turned around. A small group of men, five in total, were slowly approaching the edge of the bridge. Their footsteps echoed on the damp ground, their silhouettes outlined by the pale light of the sky.
Intrigued, Masaki took a step toward them.
"What are you doing?" he asked suspiciously.
One of them, a tall, dark-haired man with a square jaw, replied bluntly:
"Let's stop wasting time. If we keep looking for hidden meanings in every word, we'll just die of fear. If this monster really exists, then we'll take it down. "
Masaki frowned.
"Kill it?"
Another man, younger, raised an object that Masaki recognized immediately: a weapon.
A shiver ran down his spine.
"You... you kept your rewards from the first puzzle?" "
"Exactly," he replied. "We knew it would come in handy sooner or later. If we're being given the opportunity to arm ourselves, there must be a reason behind it. This Cetus may be a trap, or it may not. But we'd rather take our chances than stand here waiting for someone else to die. "
Their eyes were hard, determined. The air vibrated with tension.
Masaki slowly shook his head in disbelief.
"You plan to take down a mythological creature... with weapons?"
The younger man shrugged, a confident smile on his lips.
"We're used to playing competitive team games. We know how it works. The more of us there are, the better our chances are. So, if anyone wants to join us, they're welcome."
He placed his hand on the weapon, twirling it between his fingers as if it were a toy.
Masaki stood frozen, watching them for a moment. The sound of the wind, the creaking of the wood, and the heavy silence that always preceded irreversible decisions.
In front of him, the five men were already advancing toward the unknown with the arrogant certainty of those who refuse to be afraid.
Takeyasu felt his heart beating faster in his chest. His sweaty hands nervously gripped the handle of his weapon. With his eyes fixed on the group of five men, he felt a rush of heat wash over his body, an excitement he hadn't felt in a long time.
This was his moment.
His time.
He had always been treated as the weak link. His teammates humiliated him, laughed at his mistakes, and told him he was good for nothing. But this time, he was going to prove them wrong. He was going to prove to everyone, especially Reo, that he wasn't just a bit player in this story.
As he strode forward with determination, Reo's calm voice echoed behind him:
"Don't do it, Takeyasu. It's suicide."
Takeyasu froze. A bitter grin spread across his face. He turned slowly, his eyes burning with anger.
"Of course you'd say that." His voice trembled, but it vibrated with contained rage. "You always need to feel superior to others, don't you? Always giving orders, talking as if you're the only one who understands anything."
Reo stared at him without moving, impassive.
Takeyasu continued, his voice louder, almost shouting now:
"Haven't you noticed? Nobody likes you here! Everyone just follows you because you seem smarter! But the truth is, you're just an arrogant guy who thinks logic can solve everything!"
Reo remained silent for a moment, his piercing gaze fixed on Takeyasu's. Then, in an icy tone, he simply replied:
"And I'm right to think that. Because I am. Smarter than you."
Those words struck Takeyasu like a blade. His face tensed, anger turning to pure hatred. He gripped his weapon so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked toward the group of five men, his gaze full of defiance.
"Watch closely," he said to Reo without turning around. "After this, you'll be less cocky. And you'll become my personal lapdog!" "
His footsteps echoed in the tense silence as he joined the armed group.
The wind whistled around them, whipping their faces as they approached the edge of the bridge.
Beneath their feet, waves crashed against the ocean's surface with a deafening roar.
The Cetus, lurking in the depths, made the water bubble with a greenish glow, as if a malevolent force was pulsing beneath the sea.
Takeyasu took a deep breath, his fingers tight on the hilt of his weapon.
At his side, the five men he had just joined wore a mixture of confidence and frenzy.
One of them brandished a bright blue curved blade covered in glowing runes.
Another adjusted a massive rifle, its barrel vibrating with incandescent red energy.
Their leader, a bare-chested colossus covered in runic tattoos, raised his fist and shouted in a thunderous voice:
"Let's go down there! And show him that man can defeat any beast!"
Without waiting, he threw himself into the void.
The other four and Takeyasu followed him, their bodies cutting through the salty mist at full speed.
The air screamed around them, then came the brutal impact of the water.
A moment of silence.
Then the sea opened up with a monstrous roar.
The Cetus rose from the depths.
Its huge head, covered with dark scales, broke the surface with a crash.
Its eyes, two glowing yellow globes, opened, splitting the darkness like two raging suns.
Its mouth opened, revealing rows of sharp teeth, glistening with saliva and seawater.
One of the men, already prepared, pointed his rifle at the creature and fired.
A ball of red energy shot through the air, striking the monster's jaw in a sparkling explosion.
The Cetus roared, a guttural cry that shook the entire ocean.
Takeyasu, taking advantage of the opening, activated the weapon he had secretly purchased: a light blade of wind, capable of splitting stone.
He leaped onto a floating rock and, with a cry of rage, propelled himself toward the Cetus.
His blade cut a wide gash in the beast's side, spraying black blood that fell like thick rain.
The others followed.
The colossus wielded a gigantic axe that immediately burst into flames, each blow sending a shockwave through the waves.
Another fired a volley of glowing arrows that embedded themselves in the monster's scaly skin, drawing a network of flickering light across its back.
For a few moments, it seemed they might actually win.
The Cetus retreated, wounded, its tail lashing the water furiously.
Waves several meters high rose up, engulfing the deck to its very edges.
Lightning flashed across the sky.
The sea began to boil under the impact of blows and magic.
Takeyasu, carried away by adrenaline, shouted as he struck again.
"We've got him! Keep going!"
His words were lost in the din, but the others continued to attack.
A spear of energy shot down from the sky, striking the Cetus directly on the head.
The creature let out a terrifying cry, its entire body vibrating with an unnatural light.
Then, suddenly, the wind changed.
A low rumble rose from the depths.
The Cetus's gaze fell upon them, its pupils contracting into two burning slits.
The monster, in a movement of inhuman speed, opened its mouth and violently sucked in the air and water around it.
The waves twisted into a gigantic whirlpool.
Takeyasu felt his body tip over, swept away by the force of the current.
He tried to cling to a fragment of rock, but the suction was too powerful.
"No! Retreat!" shouted one of the men.
Too late.
The Cetus struck with a monstrous blow of its tail, pulverizing the water around it.
Two of the fighters were thrown into the air before falling back into the monster's open mouth.
Their cries were brief, muffled by the smacking of jaws.
Takeyasu, gasping for breath, swung his sword one last time, slicing out one of the monster's eyes.
A spray of black blood covered him.
But victory was short-lived.
The Cetus plunged downward at breakneck speed, dragging Takeyasu and the last survivors with it.
Bubbles, blood, flashes of magical light, then nothing.
The ocean closed in, leaving only a tumult of foam and silence on the surface.
On the deck, those who had watched the scene remained frozen.
The wind blew, laden with sea spray and fear.
No one spoke.
The Cetus had disappeared...
but in the depths, a gigantic silhouette could still be seen undulating slowly, as if savoring its meal.
A heavy silence fell over the group.
Only the distant rumblings of the ocean broke the icy quiet that had settled in.
The waves, still agitated by the battle, occasionally washed up twisted weapon debris and salt-covered metal shards.
No one moved.
The wind whipped their faces, but their bodies remained frozen, as if petrified by what they had just witnessed.
The six figures that had seemed invincible just minutes earlier were no longer there.
A trembling voice finally broke the silence:
"D... does that mean... we won?"
No one answered.
Their eyes met, evasive, empty.
They all knew what it meant.
It wasn't a victory. It was a massacre.
Masaki remained motionless for a long time, unable to take his eyes off the bridge.
The water had turned a dark, almost reddish hue, and the salty air seemed charged with a metallic taste.
He was at a loss for words.
"No..." he finally whispered, his voice barely audible.
He clenched his fists, his expression a mixture of anger and incomprehension.
"We can't solve this puzzle this way. It's... impossible."
He looked up at the sea, where a bubble burst on the surface before disappearing.
The Cetus had returned to the depths, sated.
And in the crushing silence, everyone understood one thing: here, strength alone was useless.
The slightest misstep, the slightest arrogance, was paid for with blood.
The wind grew stronger, carrying with it the acrid smell of iodine and dried blood.
The deck, still glistening with salty moisture, vibrated slightly in the gusts. Then a young man with a face carved with determination suddenly raised his head. His eyes widened, staring at the surface of the deck.
"Wait!" he shouted. "Look at the color!"
Everyone turned to look at him.
The deck, which had been blue for several minutes, had just glowed a pale, almost imperceptible green before returning to its neutral hue.
The man, Narusei, felt a spark of hope flash through his heart.
He immediately turned to two other survivors: a friend of his, and a third, a heavyset man who had remained slightly apart from the group.
"You, come with me," he said decisively.
His friend frowned, visibly concerned.
"Are you sure about this, Narusei? We just saw six guys get eaten alive!"
Narusei smiled confidently, almost arrogantly.
"Exactly. I understand what they missed. The answer is obvious." "
Without waiting any longer, he stepped onto the bridge.
The structure vibrated, then remained stable.
His friend followed him, nervous.
The third man, Kuishin, hesitated. His broad face glistened with sweat despite the cold wind.
"Why... why do you want me to come?" he asked suspiciously.
Narusei turned to him, a fake smile on his lips.
"Because I need you. I saw what you did at the end of the first puzzle. You bought a lot of food at the convenience store, didn't you?"
Kuishin's eyes widened in surprise.
"What?! How did you... "
Narusei shrugged.
"I saw you filling your bag. And let's be honest, I wasn't surprised. Everyone laughed about it, too."
The tone of his voice became sharper, more incisive.
Kuishin felt his throat tighten. He was used to mockery.
But this time, something in Narusei's manner spoke to another part of him, the part that dreamed, if only for a moment, of being useful.
Narusei took a step toward him.
"Listen, Kuishin. The Cetus feeds on what we give it. It's in the statement. And you have what it takes to satisfy it." "
Kuishin stood motionless, staring into space, then looked down at his bag.
Packets of chips, cookies, cans of food, chocolate bars... everything he had proudly and greedily hoarded.
He felt a burning sensation rising in his chest.
Narusei put a hand on his shoulder, his voice softening:
"You see, everyone makes fun of you for your appetite... but today, that's what can save us."
A silence followed.
Then Kuishin took a deep breath, tightened the strap of his bag, and slowly nodded his head.
"Okay... if it helps..." he whispered.
He walked to the edge of the bridge.
The ocean roared beneath his feet.
With a trembling hand, he grabbed the first package and threw it into the void. The sound of the packaging was lost in the wind before disappearing into the waves.
Then another. Then a third.
With each offering, the bridge glowed a little brighter, changing from a dull blue to a vibrant green.
Narusei smiled, satisfied.
"There... keep going, Kuishin. Show them all that you're someone useful."
And for the first time, Kuishin felt something new stirring in his chest, a warmth, a timid pride.
Maybe he could be more than what others saw in him.
Perhaps he, too, could be a hero.
The deck vibrated, emitting a dull creak under the hesitant footsteps of Narusei, Arato, and Kuishin. The sea wind whipped their faces, laden with salty spray and the distant howl of the Cetus, lurking beneath the black waves. The surface of the water bubbled at times, as if the creature were sneering in the depths.
Narusei gripped the railing with trembling fingers, his gaze fixed on the deck tiles, whose color still oscillated between pale green and an ominous red. Each vibration seemed to resonate in his chest. Behind him, Kuishin, panting, threw treat after treat into the sea—chocolate bars, cookies, chips—which scattered across the waves before sinking.
For a moment, a flicker of hope swept through the crowd remaining on the shore. The deck seemed to stabilize, its greenish hues intensifying slightly. Kuishin, out of breath, smiled slightly, his eyes shining with naive pride. He turned to Narusei, happy to finally be useful, he who was usually nothing but a burden to others.
But Narusei was watching something else. The green was slowly fading, replaced once again by a reddish glow, pulsating, almost alive, a warning signal, a silent countdown. His pupils dilated. He knew the bridge was about to break.
"No... no, it's not enough..." he whispered, more to himself than to the others.
Arato, at his side, frowned, sensing the panic behind his apparent calm.
"Narusei... what do we do?"
Narusei remained motionless for a moment. Then, slowly, he turned his head toward Kuishin. The latter continued to throw his packages with care, a hint of a smile on his lips. He didn't see the empty, calculating look his companion gave him.
"Kuishin... you're brave," he said in an almost gentle voice. "Thank you. Thanks to you, we're going to make it."
Kuishin looked up, surprised. A strange warmth rose in his chest. For the first time, someone was thanking him.
"D-do you think so?"
"Yes," replied Narusei. "You are... exactly what we needed."
And suddenly, without warning, he placed his hand on his shoulder and pushed him violently into the void.
Time seemed to stand still. Kuishin's massive body tumbled over the railing. His heart-wrenching screams echoed before being swallowed up by the roar of the Cetus. A gigantic mouth emerged, bristling with translucent fangs, and closed its jaws on him with a crash of foam and torn flesh. The bag of chips he was still holding flew out of his hand, spinning through the air before slowly falling back into the bloody sea.
A heavy silence fell over the group. Even the wind seemed to stop.
This time, the deck turned green. A bright, soothing, almost radiant green.
No one spoke. Everyone stared at Narusei, frozen, his face impassive, his eyes empty of emotion. Only a fleeting shadow passed over his features, a mixture of exhaustion and resignation.
Arato took a step back, his voice trembling:
"You... you did it..."
"There was no other choice," Narusei said coldly. "The Cetus wanted a meal. Not crumbs."
His calm, measured tone sent a chill through those listening to him.
On the shore, some looked away, others let out muffled sobs. The sacrifice had worked, but at what cost?
Narusei, still out of breath, took one last look at the ocean, where scarlet ripples spread slowly, like the scars of a crime that could never be washed away. The deck, now bright green, vibrated faintly beneath his feet—a sign that balance had been restored, at least temporarily.
He turned to Arato, his face impassive, and with a sharp gesture motioned for him to move forward.
"Quickly. While it's still green. We've fulfilled both conditions."
Arato, pale, hesitated for a split second. The memory of Kuishin's scream still rang in his ears. But Narusei's hard, determined gaze left him no choice. So he gritted his teeth and started running, his footsteps echoing on the wet planks of the bridge. Narusei followed close behind, without a word, breathless but staring intently at the other side of the river.
Around them, the rest of the group remained frozen. No one dared speak. Some still had tears in their eyes, others their jaws clenched with anger or incomprehension. The crash of the waves and the steady beat of the bridge were the only sounds that pierced the heavy silence.
Then a voice rose. Calm. Sharp.
"We now know..."
All eyes turned to Reo, who watched the scene without flinching, his arms crossed. His impassive face was adorned with a slight, almost bitter smirk.
"The second condition," he said in a grave tone. "It wasn't just a question of numbers... but of price."
He looked up at the ocean, where a few bubbles were still bursting on the surface.
"The Cetus wanted a human sacrifice."
A murmur of horror ran through the group. Reo's words hung heavy in the air like a sentence.
Everyone understood then that the solution had never been logical or fair. It was cruel. Inhuman.
And yet... it had worked.
The sea slowly closed, swallowing the last trace of the unfortunate man. And in the stifling silence, everyone understood that, in the face of death, man's cruelty knew no bounds, only an implacable logic: survive, whatever the cost.