Chapter 5
1101 Words
ANU’S POV
I still can’t believe what I saw.
The image won’t leave me—the way the desert seems to swallow him whole. One moment Femi is there, standing, looking confident as usual. And then the next… the ground opens beneath him like a hungry mouth. He’s gone. Just like that.
I don’t even scream. I just freeze, watching the sand smooth over like nothing happened. Like he had never existed.
Is he dead?
The question loops in my mind again and again. Am I actually bothered? He’s been a bully, a thorn in everyone’s side since we found ourselves in this godforsaken place. He calls people names, mocks the weak, and thinks survival is only for the strong. But nobody deserves that. Nobody deserves to die like that. Not even Femi.
Maybe it isn’t about him at all. Maybe it’s the fact that I saw it. That I was looking right at him when it happened. As if the desert is trying to tell me something.
Where are we?
I hug my arms around myself and look around. It’s night now and it’s cold. The heat of the day has been unbearable, but now the cold feels like punishment.
We’re not many who survived. Me, Justin, Chris, Nia, and maybe seven others. Everyone has a sad expression on their face. We’re all worried. We’re all scared.
We stumble on what looks like ruins of an old marketplace in Lagos. Agboju market. I remember coming here when I was a kid.
But it’s wrong. The walls of the buildings look… ancient but untouched. The stalls are broken but arranged, like props on a forgotten stage.
It shouldn’t be here. None of this should be here.
I find a quiet corner, under a shattered pillar. I crouch there, pulling my knees to my chest, trying to breathe through the fear I feel.
What the hell is this place?
Everything about the last few days has been off. Ever since we woke up here, time doesn’t flow right. The sun rises too fast. The stars are always in the same pattern. People disappear with no explanation. And then Femi… My hands tremble just thinking about it.
I’m not just scared. I’m certain something is watching us. Studying us.
“You okay?”
I startle and turn sharply, ready to lash out—until I see him.
Chris.
He moves quietly to me, holding out a bottle of water. His face is half-lit by moonlight, and the rest dipped in soft darkness. I’ve never noticed before how gorgeous his features are or maybe I have and am too stubborn to admit it - strong jaw, full pink lips, and those calm eyes that always seem to hold too much.
“Sorry,” he says quickly. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I—No, it’s fine,” I stammer, taking the bottle from him. Our fingers brush and I shiver at the small contact.
I freeze.
So does he.
A jolt passes between us. It’s like something wakes up beneath my skin. My breath hitches, and I see it—the shift in his eyes. His lips part slightly, like he feels it too. Neither of us says anything. For a moment, we just look at each other.
The silence isn’t uncomfortable. It’s heavy. Loaded.
“I thought you might need water,” he finally says, his voice quieter now “You’ve been sitting here for a while.”
“Thanks,” I whisper.
I break eye contact with him and unscrew the bottle.
I try to pretend I don’t feel the warmth in my chest or the way my heart pounds against my ribs. This isn’t the time, I tell myself. People are dying. We don’t even know where we are.
But being around Chris makes everything feel... less impossible. He has this way of staying grounded. Even now, when nothing makes sense, he looks like he still believes there’s a way out.
“I didn’t peg you for the brooding-in-a-corner type,” he teases lightly.
That makes me laugh “I didn’t peg you for the bottle-of-water-delivery type.”
He shrugs, grinning. “Maybe I’m just full of surprises.”
“Well, next time, surprise me with a blanket. Or a door out of here.”
He chuckles. “I’ll add it to the list.”
We sit there for a while, not talking, just listening to the wind whistle through the empty marketplace. For a moment, I let myself forget. Right now, I’m just a girl sitting beside a boy…a really cute boy. Breathing the same air. Feeling... seen.
“I need to take a look around,” I say after a while. “Something about this place isn’t right.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “I’m coming with you.”
I don’t say it, but I’m glad. Maybe too glad.
We move through the ruins. I run my hands along the walls, tracing carvings that look almost digital in their symmetry. The stars above are so perfect, so crystalline, they don’t feel real. The more I look, the more the idea sticks in my mind.
“This isn’t real,” I murmur.
Chris looks at me. “What do you mean?”
“The stars. The walls. Even the way the cold comes. It’s too... controlled.” I turn slowly, scanning everything. “This isn’t nature. It’s not even magic. It’s a simulation.”
He frowns. “Like, a fake world?”
“Not fake. Created. Like someone or something is watching us. Running the whole thing. Every trial, every death. All of it.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but then it happens.
The ground shifts beneath us—not like before. This isn’t another tremor. It’s deeper. Like the entire fabric of the world glitches. The air crackles, and the stars—those perfect, artificial stars—flicker. For a second, they go dark. The sky cracks like a broken screen.
Chris grabs my arm. “Did you see—”
A voice cuts through the silence.
The voice is loud and familiar
“Miss me?” the voice echoes.
I go cold.
No. It can’t be. That voice is gone. I saw him swallowed
We turn and there he is.
Femi.
He’s alive.
Untouched.
Smiling like the bastard he is.
But he isn’t alone.
Behind him, shadows move. Slowly, figures step into view. People we’ve lost. People who have vanished.
And in that moment, I understand one thing.
The real game hasn’t even begun.
- Writer
