Bloodscript: Survival Game of the Reborn
“Of course. Can’t have us helping each other when we’re busy vivisecting our own psyches.”
“Lovely,” Jax said. “Team‑building, but make it trauma.”
“Does it say what happens if we refuse?” the boy with the crossbow asked, clutching the weapon a little closer.
As if in answer, a fourth line flickered briefly under the other three, glitching in and out.
THOSE WHO LINGER WILL BE LEFT BEHIND.
Then it vanished.
“Cool,” I said faintly. “Timer without a clock. My favorite.”
We stood there a moment longer, clustered on nothing in front of the only something, the weight of ENTER ALONE settling over us like a net.