Chapter 5- Line of ants

Matthew took in Jackson's words and let out a soft sigh. He understood a few things more clearly, but even more questions opened up. The world beyond what eyes may see—a strange phrase. Some kind of divine realm? Like heaven? Dead gods that can still answer… things are really getting out of hand.

Matthew watched as Thomas circled back. He must have seen the light from the third wish and given up on finding Joshua. His expression was carefully neutral, but the overwhelming displeasure was hard to hide as he walked up to them.

In a subdued voice, he asked, "Mind if I ask what the hell that was?"

The group tensed. Many were already distrustful of him, and while most of it was emotional bias rather than logic, it was more than enough to react on. The boys stepped forward, subtly shielding their only armament-wielding member.

Thomas narrowed his eyes at their strange reaction.

Parker, in a bid to diffuse the tension, stepped forward. "We got a wish coin from Joshua, so we came here to test the theory that this was the altar."

A look passed through Thomas' eyes—one Matthew did not like. He moved behind Parker and elbowed him in the back before he could speak further. Parker stiffened, then, hidden behind the bodies of the group, glanced back at Matthew. They made brief eye contact, and Matthew made sure to display a hint of distrust.

It was brief, barely noticeable. Thomas didn't see.

Parker hesitated before speaking again. Thomas, quiet now, was watching him with an intense stare.

"We talked about it a lot in the group," Parker said, keeping his voice casual. "And we figured… the altar seemed mystical and cool, you know?"

Thomas gave nothing away, but Matthew caught the slight clench of his jaw and the small, unconscious movement of his fingers—tells that were hard to hide, especially from him.

Thomas exhaled sharply. Some of his tension eased. "That guy has no sense of teamwork. He didn't even take a moment to show us the coins or point us in a good direction."

"He barely told us anything either," one of the boys muttered.

They were still on edge, unwilling to cooperate with Thomas.

Thomas' gaze flickered between the speaker, Parker, then across the rest of the group—the girls at the back, Jackson leaning against Jesse. The girls seemed uneasy, like they'd rather avoid a fight.

Thomas switched tactics. "Any idea how the wish works? What kind of armament did you get?"

His attention shifted to Jackson, like they'd spoken countless times before.

Jackson shrugged. "Talked about some world beyond, then I got a weapon."

Thomas' hands clenched. He shoved them into his pockets. "Can we see it? It's only the third armament anyone has gotten. But the other's with that guy."

Jackson looked around at the expectant crowd and let out a toothy grin. He raised his hand.

A hum erupted as the space around his palm warped, gold light melting into reality. A shape formed—then another hum, a resonant vibration, as metal solidified into a sword.

The weapon's design was simple but refined, elevated by its materials. A two-handed sword with a black crystal set at the bottom of the hilt. Silver and gold threads formed clouds along the hilt and blade. The edge itself was split—sky blue on the short edge, silver on the long edge.

A collective gasp filled the hall. Jackson admired the blade, the reflected light casting blue and silver onto his face.

The murmurs erupted at once:

"What the hell was that?"

"A wish coin, I think."

"What the fuck is a wish coin?"

"Haven't you read the armaments section? They're tools we can get from sacrificing wish coins at an altar."

"Does that mean this is an altar?"

"How do you read the armament stuff?"

"The hell's wrong with you, bro? I don't think you'll last long here."

Matthew felt like a child for a brief moment. He wanted a cool sword too. He regretted giving up the coin, just a little—before reassuring himself that it was the right decision.

If he had gotten the sword, people would start forming an image of him. And if the group had discovered the altar because he got the armament, their pride wouldn't allow them to keep it quiet.

Matthew was also the one stoking distrust against Thomas. If Thomas connected the dots, he'd be a target. Originally, Matthew had wanted Joshua to use the wish's power to strengthen his influence. But he'd have to find another way now.

Sad, but there's no such thing as a 100% accurate assumption.

I was hoping he wouldn't have time to think, but it seems he had considered this before. When, though? That's what I need to pin down and understand.

For now, he had to separate Thomas and Parker—limit the chance of an information leak.

Matthew exhaled and said casually, "We've actually only been in this cave for what?… eight hours, and we're already doing magic tricks."

Parker turned slightly, frowning. Then, facing Thomas, he said, "If you don't have anything else to say, we have to leave and prepare for our own expedition."

Thomas looked frustrated. He clearly wanted to ask about the sword's description and abilities, but the group's distrust would only get worse if he pressed. In the end, he just shrugged and left.

Matthew felt a flicker of annoyance. Parker had extended an olive branch to Thomas at the end there. He'd deal with that later.

They left, carrying Jackson back, drawing hopeful stares from the rest of the hall. People started approaching them, eager for information, looking to join up or get answers about wish coins.

"Are you really going out there? You could die!"

"Die out there from monsters or in here from hunger," one of the girls retorted. "One of those is worse than you can imagine."

"The altar gave us water. It'll give us food too."

"You're not that naive, right? You think they brought us here to chill?"

Matthew smiled slightly. The assumption wasn't entirely wrong. The altar had given them water. It was the altar of a god, after all. Assuming it could provide food too wasn't unreasonable.

But betting everything on that assumption wasn't optimal.

If no food came, they'd be too weak to go looking for it.

The crowd around them grew. Their eyes—hungry, eager, envious—followed them. Some admired them for their sense of purpose. Others resented them for it. Some disliked their certainty. Others envied their luck. That carnal emotion flowed in the crowd.

Matthew watched quietly.

Matthew wasn't worried about all that. He was watching for something else. A hint of danger he expected would come soon, he would have to ensure they were prepared for it . The group's cockiness was now far removed from their earlier disagreements about going outside. There was an internal force of affirmation that made them feel different from the outsiders.

He guessed their thoughts went like this:

How can they not understand the importance of food in this context?

This dumbass is so naive. The place doesn't give you any say in what will happen here.

They don't even see the true nature of the situation.

What is this fool even talking about? Asking me what we're going to do. Figure something out for yourself.

We can't allow that weasel Thomas to outdo us. He'd stab us in the back if he grew a little stronger.

Joshua really is a bad guy, honestly. All these people need help, and he just hoards everything.

Matthew sighed, but it was still within manageable ranges. Of course, that's an assumption, he thought. He believed he could still rein in their confidence and ground them before something out there made them crash. He began to choose his words carefully while also looking out for people who might be useful.

He had no understanding of strangers, but if they looked even remotely useful, he walked up to them and spoke with them. He could now disappear from the group for short periods without them noticing. Asha might glance at him every once in a while, but she wasn't the type to share her thoughts without reason and respected his privacy.

Jackson read out the description of his blade to everyone:

> Blue Trick – A blade commonly used in wars by a tribe of Barbarians. It has a chance to steal the life from your fallen foes to recover. This blade will return a portion of the strength stolen to its master and keep some for itself. If no kills are made, it steals the energy of whoever is wielding it at that time. Increases attack power by thirty and stamina by twenty

Jesse sighed, visibly annoyed. "Lady Ariel couldn't give us anything that just heals straight up?"

"Lady Ariel?! What is wrong with you?" Matthew mused. The people around him laughed while Jesse shot him a cute glare.

Someone asked, "How is he meant to heal with this? Also, if you keep it summoned like that, won't it steal your energy and make things worse?"

Jackson quickly dismissed the armament and frowned before. "Who knows how long it'll take before I can even use that sword?"

Matthew looked at him, then asked, "What do you think they mean by wielding at that time?"

Jackson looked instantly confused and began thinking. Adalina, beside him, and Jesse shrugged.

"Why does it have to mean anything?" Adalina asked.

Kirk, who had returned to them, shook his head vigorously. "We have to consider everything for clues. You have to be smart."

Adalina looked a little pissed but bit her tongue, feeling embarrassed. Another girl who had recently joined them, Jane, glared at Kirk. "Are you calling her stupid for a throwaway comment?"

Kirk's face quickly fell as he apologized. Some guys rolled their eyes at his instant capitulation, but Matthew was glad they wouldn't derail the conversation he had set up. He decided to play devil's advocate to move things along.

"I mean, she may be right," he said. "I was just thinking the difference between master and wielder was strange."

Jackson nodded in agreement. "In the stat screen, it says master and rank. My name is there, and Fair is the rank. Could there be a difference?"

Parker, now more certain of the feeling he had when the description was read out, finally acted. He asked Jackson to summon the blade again.

Jesse looked worried. "I really hate the whole stealing life nonsense. It sounds wrong."

Parker agreed. "It's weird. Give me the sword, Jackson. Let's see if I can 'wield' it."

And so they discovered that Jackson didn't have to fight to receive the stolen health. They decided to take the blade with them and find something to kill to help him recover.

Matthew's next priority was lowering their group's overconfidence and making them plan in case someone from outside their group followed them to try and extort them. He wasn't sure how much of a threat they posed, but at the very least, he was certain the enemy had one or two knives.

Eventually, more people began to join them—most were people he had picked out and spoken to. He missed part of the strategy discussions but mostly posed simple questions at times to help them move forward or abandon ideas.

Of course, the malicious intent he had expected from some people began to build. He started trailing them and watching them to understand the threats they posed. He also observed the group from afar, gauging their thoughts, just as he gauged the thoughts of others who were watching them.

The strategy began to take shape. Parker drew an image on the floor with a charcoal pen someone had given him, and everyone formed a wide circle so as not to obstruct anyone's view. They made sure to invite people with poor eyesight to kneel in the middle of the circle.

It was a reasonable plan—more than good enough for Matthew, who wasn't a master at organizing people.

Parker shouted to make sure everyone heard him clearly:

"Okay, we'll work in groups of five and focus on the west today to secure food and water. There are three main positions:

Mapmaker/Navigator – Keep us on track and understand our position.

Load Bearers – Three in each group to carry most of what we find.

Messenger – Shuttles between groups and the safe point every hour minutes to keep contact going between the groups.

All groups will move within ten-minute intervals from the exit. The first group is in charge of placing markers and determining the safe point where we'll congregate before splitting again. If no messenger comes from a group, we will all return to the safe point and prepare to find them."

He continued, "Messengers will have the lightest load to maximize speed. Load Bearers will take turns carrying the supplies and Blue Trick every thirty minutes. Don't push yourself—preserve energy in case we need to escape. Always be ready to abandon the load if necessary. Nobody tries to be a hero. If you can't be sure you'll save someone, just make sure the death toll doesn't double."

He began assigning people to groups and designating roles. Matthew couldn't influence the assignments and ended up as a Messenger. He would have preferred to be a Mapmaker like Asha. Personally, he felt that Messenger came with the highest risk by far.

They prepared to leave immediately. The time had finally come.

They stood at the barrier between their safe haven and the pure white hell outside. It was daunting, yet Parker stepped out with only a moment of hesitation, scanning the area before signaling them forward.

Some people jumped out in exaggerated, playful motions, laughing and smiling. Others were tense and watchful. But to some degree, Matthew felt they were all ready. Of course, how someone acted in the face of death and pressure would be the true defining factor.

He was one of the last to step out.

A hand held him back before he could.

Jesse.

She smiled at him, a beautifully tragic smile. The girls all looked weak and miserable, watching as others put their lives on the line for them.

But Jesse smiled.

Matthew assumed she was someone used to loss as she spoke softly. "Make it back alright, okay? You aren't all that impressive, so don't push yourself past what you can do."

Matthew made an offended face of exaggerated proportions. "You really think so little of me?"

"Yeah. You're just good-looking. Not much going for you outside of that."

Adalina smirked at the joke, and some girls laughed.

Jesse became more serious. "Remember, we aren't all that strong, but we're doing something. I think that's good enough."