For a few seconds, Ayomide couldn’t see anything.
His body felt strangely weightless, as if he had been thrown through water without actually touching it.
He could hear Success breathing somewhere nearby, followed by the faint rustle of Adesewa’s movement.
Then his feet touched solid ground.
Ayomide opened his eyes instantly.
Grass.
That was the first thing he noticed.
Real grass stretched beneath his boots—dark green, cool, and slightly damp.
He stood completely still for a few seconds, looking around while his mind fought to process the sudden shift.
Trees surrounded them.
Not the black volcanic rocks, toxic ash, and rivers of magma they had spent days fighting through.
Tall, thick trunks covered the area, their heavy branches spreading across the sky like broad umbrellas.
Success stumbled when her weight settled on the ground.
“Ah…” Ayomide reached out, catching her arm before she lost her footing.
“You good?” Success steadied herself, exhaling a shaky breath as she nodded.
“Yeah.
I just…
I wasn’t expecting the ground to be soft.” “It looks like a completely different ecosystem,” Adesewa signaled, her hands moving with quiet precision.
She slowly turned in a circle, her dark eyes studying the unfamiliar forest.
Ayomide followed her gaze.
The place was quiet.
Unnaturally quiet.
No birds chirped in the high canopy.
No insects buzzed in the damp grass.
Not even the rustle of a small animal moving through the bushes.
There was only the low, steady whistle of wind passing between the trees.
The previous zone had tried to kill them with endless fire, suffocating heat, and ravenous beasts.
This place was different.
Too calm.
Too still.
*This isn’t freedom,* Ayomide realized, his mind sharpening.
*It’s just another stage.* Ayomide looked behind them, his posture stiffening.
They had emerged from a massive, jagged archway carved straight into the base of a mountain.
Except calling it a mountain didn’t feel right.
The black volcanic monolith rose so high that its upper half was swallowed whole by thick, churning clouds.
Ayomide couldn’t even see where it ended.
Red, angry light reflected off the cloud cover around its unseen peak.
He glanced back toward the threshold of the mountain entrance.
The opening was still there, but looking back through it felt impossibly distant, as if stepping through had pushed them miles away in an instant.
Turning back wasn’t an option.
So they weren’t trapped in a cage…
yet.
They were just being moved forward.
Success slowly walked a few steps closer to the archway, staring up at the sheer scale of the mountain.
“We…
we came out from there?” Ayomide nodded slowly.
“Looks like it.” She tilted her head further upward, her voice barely a whisper.
“…Are we in hell?” Ayomide looked at the mountain again.
“Well, that wouldn’t surprise me.
Truth is, we aren’t even sure if we’re still alive or just ghosts walking around.” Success turned and gave him a deeply tired look.
“You’re supposed to say something comforting.” “Why?” “Because that’s what normal people do when someone asks a question like that.” “I’m not normal.” Success let out a long sigh.
“Yeah.
I noticed.” Beside them, Adesewa lowered her head slightly.
A soft, genuine smile touched her lips, easing the severe lines of strain on her pale face.
Success caught the expression and stared at her.
“Wait.
Are you smiling at him?” Adesewa quickly shook her head, adjusting her posture, but the quiet warmth stayed in her eyes.
Ayomide glanced at the mute girl, a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth.
“Omo.
So you people have already started ganging up against me.” Success laughed softly—a short, genuine sound.
It was the first time the three of them had shared anything close to a joke since stepping into the Hell Zone.
The light moment didn’t last long.
Their bodies quickly reminded them of where they were.
Ayomide’s stomach twisted with a sharp, hollow ache.
His legs felt far heavier now that the immediate threat was gone, and the deep, oppressive heat from the volcanic zone still felt trapped inside his bones.
He looked closely at Success and Adesewa.
Both looked entirely spent.
Adesewa’s wounds had started closing thanks to her recovery, but she was far from healed.
Even the gash on his own arm from the alpha Ashmaw throbbed with a dull, persistent heat.
“We need somewhere to rest,” Ayomide said.
Success nodded instantly.
“And food.” “Food first?” She placed both hands over her stomach.
“My body is currently casting a unanimous vote for food.” Ayomide couldn’t argue with that.
“Fair enough.” They moved deeper into the forest.
The ground was uneven, covered in fallen leaves and exposed roots, but compared to the sharp, scorching slag of the volcanic wasteland, it felt almost comfortable.
The trees here were wrong, though.
Some had smooth, mirror-like silver bark.
Others had thick, gnarled trunks twisted into contorted shapes that looked unnaturally human.
As they walked, Ayomide noticed several high branches swaying gently—even when the wind wasn’t blowing.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
A branch above them shifted again, moving slowly, deliberately, like a waking limb.
His eyes narrowed.
“Don’t touch the trees.” Success paused beside him, her hand hovering midway to a low trunk.
“Why?” “Because after everything we’ve seen, I don’t trust a single leaf in this place.” Adesewa nodded in firm agreement, stepping closer to Ayomide’s side.
They kept moving, keeping to the open gaps between the trunks.
After nearly twenty minutes of careful walking, Success spotted something hanging in the high canopy.
“Wait.” She pointed upward.
Several large fruits hung in clusters between the broad leaves.
They were round, pale white, with faint, glowing red veins running across their skin like fine thread.
Ayomide approached cautiously.
He didn’t reach out.
He stood a few feet back, scanning the trunk, the surrounding vines, and the ground beneath.
Nothing stirred.
Success looked at him, her voice hushed.
“Can we eat them?” Ayomide didn’t look back at her.
“How would I know?
Do I look like a botanist to you?” “Well, you always stand there looking like you have the whole survival manual memorized.” “I don’t have a manual,” Ayomide muttered, raising his broken blade.
“I just have a very strong desire not to die from eating poisonous alien fruit.” “A simple ‘I’m checking’ would have been fine, you know.” Ayomide ignored the comment.
Using the tip of his broken sword, he reached up and cleanly snipped the stem of one low-hanging fruit.
It dropped into the damp grass with a soft thud.
Nothing happened.
No bursting spores, no sudden movement from the branches.
He waited ten seconds.
Still nothing.
“Adesewa.” She understood without a word.
Kneeling carefully, she picked up the fruit, examining the texture before giving it a firm, controlled squeeze.
The pale skin cracked open smoothly, and a thick, crystal-clear liquid leaked out over her fingers.
Success’s eyes widened.
“Is that…
water?” Ayomide took the fruit from Adesewa, bringing it close to his nose.
It carried a faint, crisp, sweet aroma—like fresh coconut water mixed with apple.
He took a tiny, cautious bite of the inner flesh.
It was cold, sweet, and burst with moisture.
His eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise.
“Safe.” Success didn’t waste a second.
She reached up and knocked down another one, peeling the skin back with desperate speed.
“Thank God.” Ayomide looked back up at the dense canopy, taking another bite.
“At least food is secure.
Good to know the forest isn’t entirely trying to starve us.” “Maybe the place actually wants us to stay alive,” Success said around a mouthful of sweet flesh.
“Or maybe it’s just fattening us up so whatever lives here gets a better meal later.” Success stopped chewing, giving him a flat, unblinking glare.
“…You really possess a divine gift for ruining a good moment.” Ayomide shrugged, unaffected.
“Just keeping us grounded.” They collected several of the pale fruits, stashing them securely before searching for a place to make camp.
The sweet liquid inside satisfied their immediate thirst, but it was only a temporary fix—they still needed to find a real, running water source if they were going to survive long-term.
Yet every time they moved toward low-lying areas that seemed damp, the ambient heat rising from the soil spiked sharply.
Whatever this forest was, something beneath it still carried the same heat they’d escaped from.
Eventually, they found a massive, ancient tree whose thick, exposed roots had arched out of the earth, forming a tight, natural wooden cave beneath the main trunk.
It was small, but it offered solid cover from three sides.
Ayomide crouched, inspecting the dirt inside the hollow.
“No tracks.
No smell of blood or old nests.” He stepped back, gesturing to the girls.
“It’s clean.” Success lowered herself against the wooden wall with a long, trembling exhale.
“That’s more than good enough for me.” Adesewa slid in right beside her, pulling her knees to her chest.
Ayomide remained standing near the entrance, leaning against the outer root as he looked up at the sky.
There was still no sun.
No moon.
Yet the light filtering through the dense leaves was steadily dimming.
The distant red glow around the mountain peak burned brighter in contrast, casting long, crimson shadows across the forest floor.
“So even without a sun, this place still has night,” Success muttered, watching the shadows stretch.
Ayomide nodded.
“Looks like it.” They ate the remaining fruit slowly, savoring the cool liquid.
It didn’t completely kill the deep hunger carved into their muscles, but it restored enough energy to keep their minds sharp.
For the first time in days, there were no Ashmaws snarling in the dark.
No lava bursting through stone.
No immediate threat demanding blood.
The silence felt almost unnatural.
Success leaned the back of her head against the rough wood, her gaze wandering out into the gathering gloom.
“I wonder what happened to the others.” Ayomide didn’t answer.
Success kept talking, her voice dropping into a quiet, heavy murmur.
“Tunde…
Kemi…
Zara…
Emma…
Godwin…
Daniel…” She paused, her throat tightening.
“I wonder if any of them made it out.” Adesewa’s head drooped.
Her fingers tightened around the piece of fruit in her lap until her knuckles turned pale.
Kemi.
Her best friend.
The thought of what might have happened to her while they were separated in that nightmare brought a sharp, suffocating ache to Adesewa’s chest.
Ayomide noticed the sudden shift in the air.
He turned his face away, looking out into the red-tinted twilight.
Tunde’s loud, foolish face flickered across his mind.
He could practically hear the idiot shouting something loud and unnecessary.
*That bastard better still be breathing,* Ayomide thought silently.
*He owes me too much to die in some dark corner.* “I have a feeling they’ve already been pulled back to Aetheris by now,” Ayomide said, his voice flat and even.
Success looked up at him.
“Why do you think so?” “Because those Shepherd people aren’t stupid,” he replied, staring out at the mountain.
“They didn’t summon one hundred and nine people just to let them get wiped out in an unmapped ruin.
They need those heroes to fight their war.” Success watched him closely, a small hesitation in her eyes.
“So…
after we figure out a way out of this forest…
we’re going to help them, right?” Ayomide turned his head, his gaze cold and direct.
“No.” Success blinked, taken aback.
Adesewa looked up too.
“It’s not my war,” Ayomide said plainly.
“And it definitely isn’t my world.” “Ayo—” “I’m done letting people drag me around by my neck,” he cut in, his voice steady, devoid of anger, but immovable as stone.
“I’m done risking my life because some high-and-mighty figures decided we owe them something.
Right now, I have two goals.
Find a way back to Nigeria before that war spills over, or find a place where we can build enough power to make sure nobody can touch us.” He looked back and forth between the two girls.
“If you want to go play hero for Aetheris, I won’t stop you.
But if you’re coming with me, that’s the path.” Neither girl answered immediately.
They just stared at him—Success with wide, searching eyes, and Adesewa with a deep, unreadable intensity.
Ayomide shifted uncomfortably under their combined gaze.
*Why are they looking at me like I just spoke Greek?* He clicked his tongue, turning his face back toward the dark forest, though his posture softened slightly.
“Besides…” The word slipped out before he could filter it.
He cleared his throat.
“If Tunde, Kemi, or Zara are in actual danger…
I’ll step in.
They’re the only ones from that class I give a damn about.
The rest can figure it out themselves.” Success looked at him, her lips twitching.
“What about Zara?” Ayomide grunted.
“I don’t know her like that, but she didn’t act like a fool when things went down.
She’s included.
Tunde, Kemi, Zara.
That’s it.” Success’s expression softened completely.
Beside her, the tension drained straight out of Adesewa’s shoulders.
Ayomide caught the shift out of the corner of his eye and immediately felt the need to fix his tone.
He leaned back against the root, crossing his arms with a dismissive huff.
“And when we finally find a way back home,” he added, his eyes flashing with a sharp, calculated glint, “we are not going back empty-handed.
Gold, raw Aether crystals, ancient artifacts—anything that can be converted into solid Naira.
I’m taking all of it.” Success shook her head.
“All I want is a comfortable, lavish life.
Freedom, power, money, women, luxury, and people taking care of the work while I rest.” Ayomide took another bite of the fruit, his expression deadpan.
“You forgot subordinates to make the money for you.” Success blinked.
“That’s basically what I meant.” “Say it clearly then,” Ayomide replied, utterly unbothered.
“Power, freedom, money, women, luxury, and subordinates.
Why would anyone work this hard to build an empire and then live like a monk?” *I died a virgin in my first life,* Ayomide thought bitterly, his jaw tightening as memories of his old, pathetic end flashed through his mind.
*Driven like a dog, stressed to death, and died alone.
I got a second chance at life.
I already wasted one life.
I’m not wasting this one or playing the humble, pious victim.
I want everything—money, power, freedom, women, and control over my own path.* Success broke into a quiet, genuine laugh.
“You really don’t filter anything that comes out of your mouth, do you?” “Why should I filter the truth?” Ayomide raised two fingers, a cold smirk breaking across his face.
“Power without money makes you a glorified brute—useful to everyone else, broke yourself.
Money without power makes you a target for every politician or gang with a gun.
You need both.
When you have absolute strength, unshakeable wealth, and people loyal to you?
Nobody can force your hand.” Success shook her head, smiling softly.
“You really sound like a motivational speaker right now.” “Then prepare your wallet,” Ayomide replied without missing a beat.
“I charge per lecture.” Success broke into a full laugh, and Adesewa’s dark eyes crinkled with quiet amusement.
For a long time after that, silence settled back over the small hollow.
The darkness outside grew heavy and thick.
The forest around them remained still, wrapped in an unnatural quiet.
They agreed to split the watch into shifts.
Success and Adesewa insisted on taking the first watch together so Ayomide could rest.
His body was battered, his stamina drained to the absolute limit.
He didn’t waste time arguing.
Slumping back against the thick curve of the root, he closed his eyes, and within minutes, his heavy breathing evened out into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Success sat near the edge of the hollow, her back pressed against the root wall.
Adesewa sat a foot away, her gaze fixed on the dark tree line outside.
Neither spoke.
The only sound was the faint whistle of wind through the high canopy.
After nearly twenty minutes, Success turned her head slightly, looking at Ayomide.
In the dim, crimson-tinted shadows, his face looked completely different.
The sharp, guarded edge he constantly maintained had melted away.
The harsh line of his jaw was relaxed.
Without his guarded, calculating stare, he didn’t look like the ruthless survivor who had dragged them through volcanic fire—he just looked like a tired young man who had carried far too much weight on his shoulders.
Success watched him, a flood of memories washing over her.
She remembered the terrifying chaos of the classroom when they were first summoned.
She remembered the sheer, paralyzing terror when the monsters attacked, and how Ayomide had stepped in front of her without hesitation.
She remembered the collapsing stone bridge—how she thought she was going to fall into the abyss, and how his hand had slammed down, gripping her wrist until his own knuckles bled.
*You always came back,* Success thought, a quiet warmth blooming in her chest.
She smiled faintly, whispering into the quiet air.
“You really are terrible at admitting things.” Adesewa turned her head.
She looked at Success, then shifted her gaze down to Ayomide’s sleeping face.
Success caught the look.
“What?” Adesewa didn’t use sign language this time.
She simply pointed a slender finger toward Ayomide, then lightly touched her own lips with a tiny, meaningful tilt of her head.
Success’s eyes widened slightly, a blush instantly creeping up her neck.
“Wait…
you want to…?” Adesewa offered a soft, unabashed nod, her dark eyes steady.
Success looked back at Ayomide, her heart doing a sudden, nervous flutter in her chest.
She bit her lower lip, leaning her shoulder against Adesewa’s.
“You’re way bolder than you look, you know that?” Adesewa’s cheeks flushed pink, but she didn’t look away.
She nudged Success gently, gesturing forward.
Success took a quiet, shaky breath.
“Fine…
don’t tease me if I mess this up.” Creeping forward on her knees, Success moved carefully so as not to wake him.
She hovered over Ayomide for a brief second, watching the soft rise and fall of his chest.
Her heart pounded against her ribs.
Lowering her head, she let her lips press softly against his.
It was light, warm, and lasted barely a second—a quiet touch born from surviving the end of the world together.
She pulled back quickly, pressing both hands over her burning face as she slid back into the root shadow.
“Okay…” she whispered, her voice squeaking slightly.
“I…
I actually did it.” Adesewa watched her, a light, teasing smile gracing her face.
Success shot her a look, her face glowing red in the dim light.
“Don’t look at me like that!
It’s your turn!” Adesewa turned her gaze back to Ayomide.
She remembered life back on Earth—long before the summoning, long before the Hell Zone and the blood.
She remembered the university lecture halls, sitting two rows behind him, watching the quiet, intense way he held his pen while writing.
She hadn’t fallen for some heroic, monstrously strong survivor—she had liked the ordinary, quiet university student from the very first week of their first year, feelings of love at first sight that she had kept hidden behind her muteness She had never imagined she would ever sit this close to him in a place like this.
Adesewa leaned forward slowly.
Her slender fingers reached out first, lightly brushing a stray lock of dark hair away from his forehead.
Leaning down, she gently pressed her lips against his, letting the quiet moment linger before pulling back softly.
She lowered her gaze, a deep flush rising to her cheeks.
Success watched her, her teasing smile returning, softer now.
“So you too, huh?” Adesewa looked away, hiding her face in her hands, though her shoulders shook with silent embarrassment.
Success let out a tiny, stifled laugh, wrapping an arm around Adesewa’s shoulder and pulling her close.
Neither girl spoke another word about it.
They sat together in the quiet hollow, watching the forest as the hours crept by.
Eventually, as the deep exhaustion pulled at their eyelids, Success’s head slowly drooped, coming to rest against Adesewa’s shoulder.
Adesewa glanced down at her, shifting her posture slightly so Success could sleep comfortably without straining her neck.
Minutes later, Adesewa’s own eyes fluttered shut, her head leaning gently against Success’s.
Side by side, the two young women drifted off to sleep, guarded by the silent dark.
Ayomide slept on nearby, his breathing deep and undisturbed.
For the first time since entering the nightmare of the Hell Zone, none of them were running.
None of them were bleeding.
They were simply resting.
…But deep within the red-tinted gloom, the forest was not asleep.
A massive tree fifty meters away slowly creaked.
Its thick trunk rotated several inches.
Its heavy branches shifted through the air without a breath of wind to move them.
There were no eyes carved into its silver bark.
No mouth.
Yet the absolute presence of its attention was fixed entirely on the small wooden hollow.
Another tree shifted.
Then another.
None of them attacked.
They simply stood, watching the three intruders with silent, ancient patience.
Farther into the dark, a pale fruit detached from a high branch, hitting the damp earth with a dull sound.
*Thud.* Ayomide’s eyes snapped open instantly.
In a fraction of a second, his hand slammed around the hilt of his broken sword.
His sharp, lethal gaze swept across the dark tree line, every instinct screaming awake.
Silence.
The crimson gloom hung motionless over the grass.
Nothing moved.
Ayomide slowed his breathing, his fingers slowly loosening their white-knuckled grip on the leather hilt.
*…Just a fruit falling.* He stared out into the dark for several long seconds, his brow furrowed.
His gut told him something was wrong, but the perimeter was clear.
Slowly, he leaned back against the wood, closing his eyes once more.
The forest remained quiet around them.
Too quiet.
And far beyond the canopy, the sky continued to burn with a distant, endless fire.