TEST

The hall doors groaned shut behind us, the heavy wooden panels rattling as Blade slammed the latch into place. The echoes of the children's screams and the watchers' growls still rang in my ears, but the world outside was eerily calm.

The Mists hung thick and low, but the streets that had been empty when we arrived now brimmed with life. People milled about, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns hung on posts and buildings. The air buzzed with quiet conversation, laughter, and the distant hum of machinery.

"What the—" Tin started, his voice trailing off as a middle-aged woman approached us, her face alight with a warm smile.

"Welcome!" she said, her voice cheerful and melodic. "You made it out! That's wonderful."

I took a step back, my hand instinctively tightening around the hilt of my knife. The woman's demeanor was disarming, too casual for what we'd just experienced. Behind her, more people gathered, their expressions ranging from curiosity to relief.

"What is this place?" Blade demanded, her voice sharp and wary.

The woman tilted her head, her smile unwavering. "This is Sanctuary. You've passed the test, which means you're welcome to stay."

"Test?" Sol asked, his voice hoarse.

The woman nodded. "The hall is a rite of passage for newcomers. The creatures inside are dangerous, but they're trapped. It's how we gauge if someone has the strength and resolve to survive here."

My stomach churned at her explanation. The children in the hall, their pale faces and eerie laughter—were they part of this test? Or were they something else?

"You put people through that on purpose?" Tin asked, disbelief thick in his voice.

"It's necessary," the woman replied, her tone softening. "Sanctuary is a fragile place. We can't risk letting anyone in who might compromise its safety."

Blade's grip on her weapon tightened. "And how do we know you're not the ones compromising it?"

The woman blinked, her smile faltering for the first time. "I assure you, we're just like you," she said. "Survivors looking for a place to belong."

Blade's eyes narrowed, and before any of us could react, she lunged forward, her blade flashing in the dim light. The woman gasped as the tip of the blade grazed her arm, a thin line of blood welling up and dripping onto the cobblestones.

"Blade!" I shouted, grabbing her arm and pulling her back. "What are you doing?"

"She could be one of them," Blade snarled, her eyes darting around at the gathered crowd. "We don't know what's real here."

The woman clutched her bleeding arm, her eyes wide with shock and fear. "I'm human," she stammered. "I swear, I'm human."

The crowd murmured uneasily, some stepping back while others moved closer as if to shield her. A man stepped forward, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "Please," he said, his voice calm. "We mean you no harm. Look."

He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a forearm crisscrossed with scars and burns. "We've all been through the hall. We've all faced the watchers. We're just like you."

Blade hesitated, her gaze flickering to the man's scars. She lowered her weapon slightly but didn't let go of it.

"Blade," I said softly, stepping between her and the woman. "They're not our enemies."

"How do you know?" she snapped, her voice trembling with barely contained fury.

"I don't," I admitted. "But if they wanted to hurt us, they wouldn't have to pretend."

Blade's jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought she might argue. But then she let out a sharp breath and stepped back, sheathing her blade with a frustrated growl.

The tension in the air eased slightly, though the crowd still watched us warily.

"I'm sorry," the woman said, her voice shaking as she wiped the blood from her arm. "I know this must be overwhelming, but I promise you, Sanctuary is safe."

"Safe?" Blade muttered, her tone dripping with skepticism.

The man nodded. "The Mists protect us. The watchers can't enter, and the hall keeps them contained. As long as we stay here, we're safe."

"And the children in the hall?" I asked, my voice tight.

The man's expression darkened. "They're part of the test," he said. "They're not real. They're... echoes of the Mists, manifestations of what the watchers leave behind."

I didn't know if I believed him, but the explanation made my stomach twist. Echoes or not, what we'd seen in that hall felt far too real to dismiss.

"Come," the woman said, gesturing toward the streets. "You've been through enough. Let us take care of you."

The crowd parted, making way for us as the woman and man led us deeper into the settlement. Lanterns lined the streets, their soft glow illuminating small homes and workshops. People moved about, their faces tired but peaceful, their laughter and chatter filling the air with a strange sense of normalcy.

Tin glanced at me, his expression uncertain. "Do you think we can trust them?" he whispered.

"I don't know," I admitted, my scars throbbing faintly as if in warning. "But for now, we don't have a choice."

Blade stayed close to Sol, her eyes scanning every shadow, every movement, her hand never straying far from her weapon.

As we walked, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched—not by the people of Sanctuary, but by something else. The Mists clung to the edges of the settlement, shifting and swirling as though alive, and I couldn't help but wonder if the watchers were still out there, waiting for their chance.

For now, we were safe. But I knew better than to trust safety in a world like this.