The bell rang eight times, its echo carried across the island of Eden like a divine summons.
Team Aleph waited on the cracked stone of the old training ground, shadows cast long by the morning sun.
Mary paced, her boots scraping against the dust. "Where is he? He left us here yesterday and said five bell. It's been three bell sounds since!"
Jezer sat on a stone bench, arms folded behind his head, unfazed. "Calm down, Mary. Maybe he's playing with some cats."
Aaron smirked. "Or sleeping with them."
Gideon burst into laughter.
Then, as if on cue, a calm voice came from behind them.
"Where's the cat?"
They turned sharply. David stood there, arms lazily draped at his sides, a small sack slung over his shoulder, smile as casual as ever.
Mary's fury flared. "You!, You made us come here at five bells and now—now you just show up at eight like it's nothing?!""
David yawned lazily, stretching. "Calm. Just got hungry and had to eat."
He held up the small sack with a grin. "Brought cake."
Mary snatched the bag, pulled out a no-yeast cake, and bit into it with spite. The others followed, surprised by its sweetness.
David walked to the center of the ground, his tone suddenly changing.
"Today," he began, "we repeat the test. Except this time, I'm the one tied up. No complaints about Toys or staged threats. And there's a time limit."
He raised a tall glass container filled with red sand and flipped it. The grains began to fall.
"Your time… starts now."
---
The earth trembled.
The training field shifted as mechanisms hidden beneath cracked open. Dozens of Toys—twisted metal constructs animated by elemental cores—emerged from the ground, surrounding a tied-up David. A living snake coiled around his shoulders, its fangs inches from his neck. He didn't flinch.
The team tensed. Then—charged.
Mary darted first, faster than the others, dodging between blades and whirring limbs. A toy lunged at her, but she flipped over its head and kicked it square in the chest, sending it flying. Her agility cleared a path.
Behind her, Jezer moved with uncanny reaction speed, intercepting projectiles meant for Gideon and Aaron. One Toy fired a spiked chain—but Jezer caught it midair, wrapping it around his forearm and pulling the Toy into Gideon's hammer strike.
Aaron burst forward, his brute strength cleaving through Toy armor, fists like boulders. But it cost him time—he wasn't fast, and every strike left him more exposed.
Zinco moved like a phantom, flanking Toys silently, cutting their joints with deadly precision, never drawing attention to himself. He was the only one who seemed aware of the falling sand.
But then—the giant appeared.
Seven feet tall, a hulk of fused obsidian and steel. Its eyes burned with living fire. It roared, and the ground shuddered.
Mary attacked first, slicing across its chest. The blade shattered.
Aaron tried to tackle it—it backhanded him like a child.
Jezer got close—but the heat in its eyes melted the tips of his fingers before he could strike.
Gideon shouted orders, trying to rally them, but the panic was rising. The snake around David's neck hissed louder, its tongue brushing his jaw.
David looked down at the sand.
Only seconds left.
Mary threw herself at the giant, screaming, "I won't let you win!"
But it raised a molten fist—about to strike her down—
BOOM.
A brilliant explosion erupted from the chair.
Everyone was thrown backward, tossed like leaves in a storm.
When the smoke cleared, David stood—untied, unharmed. The snake was gone.
They lay on the ground, panting, cloth tore and burnt.
"You improved," David said coldly. "But still not enough."
Gideon coughed. "We tried…"
David walked between them. "No. You reacted. You didn't trust. You didn't bond. That's the difference between a group and a family."
He turned to them. "Do you know what makes a family?"
They looked at each other, unsure.
Mary answered, "Blood."
David shook his head. "No. Blood starts it. But what makes a family is the bond—to stand when the others fall, to fight even when you're scared, to believe in each other. That's what you lack."
He looked away, voice soft. "No wonder they want to prove you. You lack trust… and you're still blind."
The team was silent, the weight of his words anchoring them.
Then he turned and smiled. "Lets take a break. Who wants to go see the game?"
They nodded slowly, limping after him, humbled but thoughtful.
---
The walk from the training ground to the stadium was slow, filled with aching muscles and silent reflection.
David led the way, hands behind his head, still chewing the last bit of no-yeast cake. "Nothing like a good game of Whiz to heal bruised egos," he joked.
The stadium loomed ahead—a towering stone structure shaped like a bowl, with tiered seating surrounding an open, grassy field at the center. Glimmering flags bearing tribal sigils flapped in the wind. Hundreds of spectators buzzed with excitement, filling the air with a chorus of cheers and chatter.
"Welcome to the Whiz of Thron," David grinned. "May the chaos be glorious."
They entered through a side passage, emerging into a reserved balcony carved into the stone with shaded seats. The view was perfect.
Down on the field, the Whiz players gathered—each team a blur of colors, muscles, and armor-like gear. Five golden balls were launched into the air and the hunt began.
---
The Game of Whiz was chaos and strategy bound together.
Each player had to grab a golden ball, protect it from enemies, navigate traps—spiked pits, rising walls, slick oil patches—and then find the hidden diamond key to open the basket and score.
It was every tribe for themselves. Alliances broke as quickly as they formed.
"See that guy?" David pointed. "He's from the Noah tribe. Fast, but careless."
"Is that a trap pit?" Jezer asked.
David nodded. "Watch him fall."
And sure enough, the player sprinted across the field—then disappeared with a shriek into a sudden hole. The crowd roared.
Aaron laughed. "This game's amazing."
---
As they watched, a calm voice called from behind.
"David."
He turned. A tall woman stood there, dressed simply but elegantly. Her dark hair was wrapped in a gold-threaded band, and her eyes were firm, serious.
David blinked. "Ruth?"
Mary narrowed her eyes immediately.
"Long time no see," David smiled, standing. "Come, sit. Let's watch together."
Ruth smiled and slid into the seat beside him. "You always liked chaos."
"I call it creativity," he said.
The two began talking quietly, occasionally laughing.
Mary's fingers tapped her knee nervously.
She nudged Jezer. "Something's not right."
"What?" he said.
"Those stewards," she whispered. "By the far gates. Two of them haven't moved once. Look at their eyes—too focused."
Jezer glanced. "Could be guards."
Mary didn't reply. Her eyes darted from face to face. Something was off.
Aaron leaned over. "You're being paranoid."
"I'm being careful."
A man passed by carrying a rack of snacks, ornate and steaming with fragrant sweetness. He bowed low.
David took one. "For the team," he said, handing them out.
They ate cautiously.
Minutes passed. The crowd roared again as a player scored. Mary forced herself to watch the field, but her unease only grew.
Then—David's head dropped slightly.
He blinked slowly. His fingers loosened around the snack. His breath changed.
Mary bolted upright. "David?"
Ruth stood up slowly, gently lifting the silver necklace from David's neck.
Gideon saw it first. "Hey—what are you doing?"
She stepped back calmly. "I need this."
Mary drew her short blade. "For what?"
Ruth didn't flinch. "To unlock a weapon powerful enough to erase this entire island."
The team leapt to their feet.
"What?!" Jezer shouted.
"You're not going anywhere!" Aaron lunged.
But Ruth was already moving, moving past easily as air.
By the time they recovered, she was sprinting down the stairway.
Mary gave chase.
"Stop her!" she screamed, leaping over rows of confused spectators.
Ruth moved like wind, agile and efficient, shoving aside people with ease.
The team pursued, weaving through the crowd. Some stewards reached for their weapons, revealing themselves not as guards—but allies of Ruth.
One fired a blade from his wrist—Mary ducked under it and kept running.
Aaron tackled one, slamming him into a pillar.
Jezer hurled a stone, hitting another in the temple.
Gideon ran ahead, leaping over a ledge to cut off Ruth near the eastern exit—but she was faster.
Just before she slipped through the archway, she turned back and smiled.
"You're too late. The key has turned."
Then she was gone.
---
Back in the stands, David began to stir, rubbing his temples. "What happened?"
Mary was still staring down the exit, panting, blade shaking in her grip. "She took the necklace."
David stood up slowly. His expression turned cold.
"That necklace… wasn't just jewelry," he said.
Jezer looked at him. "What was it?"
David replied grimly, "It was poison. She's going to poison the island."
---