Stage 0 [6]

The clearing felt heavier than ever, as though an unseen weight pressed down on every survivor's chest. The tension from Kyle's gruesome demise rippled through the group like a shockwave, leaving them paralyzed.

"A-AARRHH!"

A girl's piercing scream shattered the fragile silence. Others flinched, trembling as if the tendril might spring up beneath them next. A few clutched their heads, rocking back and forth in a futile attempt to block out the horrifying image burned into their minds.

One man collapsed to his knees, mumbling incoherently under his breath. Another bit down so hard on his lip that blood trickled down his chin. A woman stood frozen, her fists clenched at her sides, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Harry watched it all, his breath caught in his throat. His mind replayed the scene of Kyle being swallowed whole, again and again, until it felt like the ground beneath him might split open, too.

'...There are monsters underneath us, too?' he muttered inwardly, his stomach knotting.

He glanced toward the fortress in the distance, its foreboding silhouette stark against the darkening sky. What had once seemed like their last hope now felt like a cruel joke.

The fortress was out of reach. They couldn't move forward. They couldn't go back. And now…

'I hope there are no monsters from above...'

"Then… there's no hope anymore," a quiet, trembling voice whispered.

Harry turned his head. A girl—one of his classmates—stood there, her face hollow and drained of color. Her words hung in the air like a curse.

"We're going to die here, aren't we?" she added, her voice cracking.

Despair spread like an infection. Those who heard her—or had already reached the same conclusion—began to crumble.

"We can't… we can't do this…"

"There's no way out…"

"I don't want to die…"

The whispers of fear grew into a murmur, louder with every passing second. People stared at the ground, the sky, the horizon—anywhere but at each other. Some were empty-eyed, lost. Others were brimming with tears.

Harry's fists clenched.

He'd seen this before—maybe not in real life, but in books, in games, in movies. He knew how it would play out if no one stepped in.

When panic took hold, survival became impossible. People froze when they should run, hesitated when they should act, and turned on each other when they needed to stay united.

If they spiraled now, they'd be picked off one by one.

"If this keeps up…" Harry muttered, his mind racing. "They'll get themselves and everyone else killed."

But what could he do? What could he say? He wasn't a leader like Jess. He wasn't composed like Darrow.

All he had was—

A soft thud beside him.

Harry turned, startled, as Jess sat down next to him. Her expression was calm, but her sharp eyes were locked onto the group.

"Hey, boy," she said quietly.

Harry blinked. "Uh… yeah?"

Jess didn't look at him. "Can you make them laugh?"

He stared at her, caught off guard. "Wait… what?"

Jess finally turned to meet his gaze. "These people are on the verge of breaking. We need to ease the tension, or this is going to spiral out of control. Can you make them laugh?"

Harry opened his mouth, then hesitated. His first instinct was to joke—"What do you think I am, a clown?"—but the weight of her request made him pause.

'Aren't I the best one at it?'

Subconsciously, he nodded.

Then, realization hit, and he blinked. "Wait, hold on. Why me?"

Jess's lips quirked slightly, though her tone remained serious. "I've noticed it. You have a knack for it."

"A knack for what?"

"For making people smile," she said simply. "You joke. You lighten the mood, even when things are bad. It's a talent."

Harry blinked again, genuinely surprised. Of all the things she could have said, that was not what he expected.

"A… talent?" he echoed.

Jess nodded. "Right now, we need that more than anything. Can you do it?"

Harry glanced back at the group, his mind whirring. His natural instinct was to deflect—to say something self-deprecating, something sarcastic. But as he looked at the pale, trembling faces around him, he realized… Jess wasn't wrong.

He did have a knack for this. It wasn't much. But it was something.

'Why didn't I think of this just now?'

'Is the atmosphere affecting my way of thinking too?'

"Yeah," Harry said finally, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "I think I can."

Jess gave him a slight nod, her expression softening for just a moment. "Good."

Harry stood, brushing off his pants. He rolled his shoulders, shaking out the nerves.

"Alright," he muttered to himself. "Time to play the fool."

He took a deep breath and stepped into the center of the group.

"Alright, folks!" he called out. "Listen up!"

No one moved.

Harry's eye twitched, but he kept his grin plastered on. "Okay, I get it. You're all busy staring at the ground, hoping it doesn't eat you like it ate Kyle. Totally understandable. But hey, good news—I think I've cracked the mystery of what's happening!"

A few heads turned. Their expressions were dull, exhausted. Most ignored him completely.

Harry scratched the back of his head. "Tough crowd." Then, louder, "Fine, let's talk about Kyle! Our dear, uh… fearless leader who taught us all how to run. May he rest in… uh, the belly of whatever that thing was."

That got their attention. Shocked faces. Some glares.

Harry held up his hands. "Too soon? Okay, fair. But I mean, if you're going to die in a dramatic way, maybe do it quietly, right? Not sprinting and laughing like a hyena. Seriously, Kyle, were you trying to audition for the role of 'fast food'?"

A snort broke through the tension.

Harry zeroed in on Sam, who was biting his lip to keep from laughing.

'Gotcha', he thought.

"I'm just saying," Harry continued, "if you don't want to end up like Kyle, maybe don't sprint toward the giant ominous fortress like you've lost your last brain cell. Not the best strategy, you know?"

More people looked his way now. Some glared. Some gritted their teeth, trying not to smile.

"What are you doing?" one girl hissed. "Are you making fun of us?"

Harry held up his hands. "No, no, I'm making fun of the situation. You know, the whole 'we're trapped in a nightmare world, surrounded by killer monkeys, flying goblins, and now literal death soil' thing. If we can't laugh at that, what can we laugh at?"

A few more chuckles slipped through the cracks.

Awkward. Hesitant. But they were there.

Harry let his voice soften. "Look, I know this sucks. Trust me, I'm not exactly thrilled about almost becoming a Jonkey piñata back there. But if we sit here crying, we're done for. We need to think. Why did Kyle get caught?"

He let that question settle, scanning the group.

"There has to be a reason."