A low chime echoed through the forest—sharp, clear, and oddly ominous.
Then came the voice.
"All tokens have been claimed. As per the rules, the forest will now begin to fill with miasma from the outskirts inward.
The mist will cover the entirety of the trial grounds by tomorrow's evening.
Survivors who retain their tokens until then, or reach the designated safe zones at the center, will pass. Good luck."
A moment of heavy silence hung in the air.
Then it shattered—shouts, panicked footsteps, beasts roaring in confusion.
Participants all across the forest froze mid-action.
Some cursed aloud. Others immediately began sprinting toward the center, following the carved paths or forging ahead blindly through thick brush and moss-laden trails.
One girl screamed as the first tendrils of violet fog began to seep between the roots behind her.
A boy climbed a tree in desperation, only to be yanked back down by a startled avian beast that took flight with a screech.
