It’s time,” he says softly.

  My heart stills.

  I stare at him, my face dark, unreadable. “Time for what?”

  He doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t flinch.

  He just speaks.

  Two words. Simple.

  But they crash into me like a mountain falling from the sky.

  “Grace dies tomorrow.”

  The air leaves my lungs.

  He steps forward. “You must act now.”

  Chapter 12 - Check.

  He steps closer.

  Silent.

  And the weight of everything begins to drown me.

  So many questions claw through my mind.

  Tomorrow?

  When exactly? Today’s dark or tomorrow’s light? And how the hell does he know?

  But all of it fades.

  All of it drowns beneath one truth.

  Grace will be gone.

  Not just gone.

  Unmade.

  Her body torn apart.

  Emptied into something that devours everything she is.

  Her laugh, her warmth, her quiet strength.

  Gone.

  Replaced by something monstrous.

  Remembered for what she is not.

  I’m too late.

  I have no plan.

  No power.

  Nothing.

  I failed her.

  My thoughts drag me down like I’m sinking in the deepest ocean.

  Hanging by a noose around my neck.

  A small thread called White’s plan.

  Even if we’re fractured.

  Even if I hate him.

  If there’s anything in his hands that could save her.

  I’ll crawl for it.

  I’ll bleed for it.

  I’ll burn everything down for it.

  My breath is shallow now.

  Each second tighter.

  Each second more desperate.

  I try to speak.

  But nothing comes.

  White just stares.

  Watching me unravel like string in a storm.

  Then his voice cuts through.

  “If this is how you’re going to be...

  Then say goodbye to Grace now.”

  His voice cold. Sharp.

  “You’ve made this about yourself.

  Some noble fantasy where you’re the hero,

  Here to fix everything.

  But what stinks isn’t failure.

  It’s that you can’t bear the idea of failing yourself.

  You want to save her, yes.

  But not just for her.

  You want to prove something.

  Let go of that. Or lose everything.”

  His eyes narrow.

  Cold and sharp like glass.

  “This is your only chance.

  Lose control, and you won’t just break.

  You’ll break everything.

  Every step in this place leaves a scar.

  And you don’t get to walk away without bleeding.

  If you want to win, you must lose something first.”

  A breath.

  “After dinner. My house.

  Come alone. Only if you're ready.

  But remember. No one can see us.

  No mistakes. Not tonight.

  Stick to the plan. One wrong move, and she’s gone.”

  Part of me thinks he’s playing me.

  That this is all some elaborate joke.

  And later he’ll laugh as Grace slips through my fingers.

  But I don’t care.

  I’ll take that chance.

  Any chance.

  He says I’m doing this for myself.

  Maybe he’s right.

  But then why does it hurt more now?

  Moments ago, I felt like a failure.

  But as each second passes, and Grace’s death comes closer,

  My pain sharpens.

  Slicing through me.

  It hurts not because I failed to save her.

  It hurts because I’m going to lose her.

  Lose someone I can’t replace.

  Someone who made me believe this world is worth it.

  That I’m worth it.

  Even if I had everything else, without her,

  My life would still be missing its heart.

  “I’ll do it,” I whisper.

  Barely hearing myself.

  I meet his gaze.

  My eyes are fire and ash.

  “You’ll save her, right?

  If I do what you say. Exactly. She’ll live?”

  White doesn’t blink.

  “If everything goes as planned...

  She lives.”

  And just like that, he’s gone.

  Out the door.

  Into the shadows.

  I don’t move.

  I stay there.

  Hollow.

  Unraveling.

  My eyes drift to the door.

  Grace must be waiting.

  For dinner.

  I don’t know if I can face her.

  Not with this war inside me.

  But I walk.

  One step.

  Then another.

  Each step heavier.

  Like my soul is sinking into the earth with every inch.

  I’ll save you, Grace. Or I’ll die trying.

  I reach the Long House.

  She’s there.

  Two plates.

  She hasn’t touched hers.

  And one already set for me.

  She turns. Smiles.

  And it’s the kind of smile that makes the world feel gentle again.

  “I took some for you too,” she says softly. “I thought this might be enough.”

  I look down at the plate.

  But my stomach...

  No, my whole being, rejects it.

  I’m already full with despair.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice carrying that quiet tenderness only she has.

  I force a breath.

  “I just... I think it’s a stomach ache,” I lie.

  “I’ll be okay.”

  Her brows crease.

  “You shouldn’t have skipped lunch,” she murmurs, concerned.

  I try to smile.

  Try to make her believe it.

  “I’ll be fine soon,” I whisper.

  But deep down, I know...

  Nothing will ever be fine again.

  Not until I tear this world apart to save her.

  “I can make something for you,” she says softly. “It might help your tummy.”

  I look at her.

  That gentle concern in her voice... it almost shatters me.

  “No, it’s fine. I’ll visit Dr. Lenny after dinner,” I say, masking the lie with a smile.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  Another lie. Another layer.

  “Oh, okay then… I’ll come with you,” she replies, smiling again, bright, innocent.

  “No, it’s okay. I mean… Dr. Lenny doesn’t really let anyone in with patients anyway, so…”

  Her smile fades.

  Her brow tightens, sharp, almost hurt.

  “Fine,” she mutters, turning back to her food.

  Just as quickly, she turns back again.

  “You know, with your cheeks and face getting better and better… you’re kinda starting to look like White.”

  A sharp pulse tears through my chest.

  I’d forgotten.

  Forgotten that my hollow cheeks... my face... are healing.

  That soon, anyone who really looks at me will see it.

  See him in me.

  And when they do... panic. Questions. Maybe worse.

  She tilts her head, resting her chin on her hand. The other stirs her soup slowly with a spoon, lost in lazy circles.

  “It’s also so weird how your name’s Black and his is White. Don’t you think?”

  “Yeah,” I say, barely managing a breath.

  “Kinda weird.”

  I don’t say more.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  I can’t.

  Once she realizes I look like him, once she finds out I never told her, will she start to hate me?

  No.

  She’ll understand.

  She has to.

  But there’s no time to dwell. I need to finish this. I need to go.

  White is waiting. Time is slipping.

  I eat as fast as I can, trying not to choke on the rising panic.

  “Hey... slow down,” she says. “You do have a stomach ache, remember?”

  In seconds, I’m done.

  I look at her... Grace, still watching me with concern etched gently on her face.

  “I’ll see you after Lenny, okay?” I say, standing up.

  But the thought gnaws at me...

  What if this is the last time I see her?

  My body stiffens.

  No.

  I can’t afford to waste time on thoughts like that.

  I pause.

  “Grace,” I say quietly.

  She looks up.

  “Hm?”

  “I’ll see you soon. Okay?”

  She smiles, like it’s just another day.

  “Okay.”

  I hold onto that smile like a lifeline.

  If White has a plan....

  Then I’ll carry it out.

  No matter what it takes.

  I will save her.

  I set out, walking down the dim path.

  Since I told Grace I’d be at Lenny’s, so this visit to White is covered. I’ll see Lenny afterward just to avoid loose ends.

  But I must make sure Lenny doesn’t stop by the Long House while I’m gone. That would be a disaster.

  I’ll think of something.

  As I walk, the air feels heavier.

  Is it even safe to visit White? Probably not.

  But I don’t have a choice.

  I glance up.

  The sky, though veiled in night, bleeds.

  The crack is there again, thin, red, and curved like a grin.

  Mocking me. Waiting to swallow me whole.

  I keep alert, scanning corners, rooftops, shadows.

  Most people are probably still inside the Long House. Good.

  He wants me to come alone, I get that.

  But hiding the entire meeting from everyone else?

  That’s not caution.

  That’s something else.

  Almost like... he’s setting a trap.

  I approach the clinic. The light’s still on inside. Lenny’s here. Good. That means I’m safe to head to White’s for now.

  But if Lenny leaves and runs into Grace while I’m gone... That’s a problem I can’t control.

  I could lie. Tell Grace he was already gone when I showed up. Say I waited around. But that only works if I know when he leaves. And what if he skips dinner tonight entirely?

  No. There’s no other way.

  I scan the exterior

  A Window where it should be. Good.

  I reach the clinic door.

  Then, I knock.

  After a moment, the door creaks open.

  Dr. Lenny appears, surprised but smiling.

  “No one’s ever visited me this often in their first few days,” he says, amused.

  “Sorry to bother you, Dr. Lenny,” I say, keeping my tone light. “I’ve got this stomach ache. Thought it was better to check before it gets worse.”

  “Oh, come on in,” he waves me inside, stepping back. “Hop on the table.”

  I sit.

  He presses the back of his hand to my forehead.

  “No fever. Since when have you had this pain?”

  “About an hour ago. Before dinner,” I say.

  “Where exactly? Above the belly button? Below? Or the whole area?”

  He’s going traditional. That’s fine.

  I skipped lunch, so upper stomach makes sense.

  “Above,” I reply.

  He nods slightly, thinking. “Could be bloating. You eat anything heavy today?”

  “Not really. I actually skipped lunch.”

  “You skipped?” His brow tightens. “But I helped u with the radio so you could eat.”

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Lenny. I had something else to do. I didn’t have much time… it was more important.”

  He studies me for a second, then sighs.

  “Well… that’ll do it,” he mutters, straightening up. “Skipping meals can mess with your digestion, especially if your stomach’s already sensitive.”

  “Drink more water. And eat on time, yeah?, and dont skip food... Ever. "

  I nod.

  “Well,” he continues, “I have some herbs. I’ll brew you a tea. It should help.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. Also... would it be alright if I used your restroom?”

  “Of course, go ahead,” he says, gesturing down the hall.

  I walk to the door. “Might take a while,” I add quickly. “Bit of… digestive stress.”

  He nods again, already heading to the kitchen.

  I slip into the bathroom and shut the door quietly behind me.

  There... just as I thought.

  The window I saw earlier from the outside. Not large, but enough.

  I unlatch it and slowly climb out, my feet brushing the sill, body twisting sideways to fit.

  A soft thud as I land.

  I scan the area... no movement, no eyes.

  Now to White.

  I move swiftly but silently, hugging shadows, crouching low when needed... bush to bush, step by step. Every movement measured. I make sure no one is around. Everyone should still be in the Long House. It’s now or never.

  I reach White’s house and knock, twice. He opens the door within seconds.

  I scan the room behind him quickly. Nothing unusual. Nothing out of place. Nothing threatening enough to kill me. Yet.

  I step inside.

  "Why the secrecy?" I ask, my eyes locking on his. "What are you planning?"

  He doesn’t answer. Instead, he moves to the table, pulls out a chair, and sits down with a sigh that says he’s been waiting for this moment.

  “Let’s make this quick,” he says, cold and efficient. “You’ll understand everything once I explain.”

  I follow, sitting across from him, heart heavy, mind racing.

  He begins.

  “I’ve been here longer than you. I’ve watched every second of this place, studied it, broken it down in my head. And based on what I’ve observed, there’s a way to save Grace. Temporarily, at least. How long, I can’t say. But there’s a chance... if we act fast.”

  I don’t speak. I just listen, afraid that if I interrupt, the illusion of hope will vanish.

  “She’ll die tomorrow,” he continues, voice steady. “Exact time unknown, but most likely before the first light. So we need to act tonight.”

  He leans forward.

  “The reason I’m doing this… isn’t just for her. I need to know if this works. If this can work. You might think it’s to save myself, but it’s not. It’s for everyone. If I fail, we’re all screwed. But if it works, we finally understand how this place operates.”

  He pauses. Eyes locked on mine.

  “I’m asking you to do it. Because if it fails… you’re the one who gets caught. I can’t take that risk. If I go down, there’s no one else who can figure out the rest.”

  I stare at him.

  I should’ve known... The cryptic words. The secrecy. The delay. All of it.

  This was never a plan. It was a setup.

  But... if it saves her...

  "I’ll do anything to stop her from dying,” I whisper. “If there’s even a chance, then I don’t care what it costs me.”

  He nods, satisfied. Like I just gave him a key.

  “This place has a structure,” he says. “A system. It functions with equilibrium. Break it, and it’ll either collapse... or shift like a gear.”

  He pauses, eyes narrowed.

  “There are patterns here. Deep ones. Maybe beyond us. But one stands out. Every time someone dies… someone new appears. Not hours later. Not days. Almost instantly.”

  A breath.

  “That’s not coincidence.”

  My mind races.

  "It’s almost as if

  The moment a person dies here, another washes up on the beach.

  Like a transaction. A trade.

  And that can only mean one thing."

  He leans in..

  “This place needs thirteen people to function. That’s why the replacements are instant.”

  He leans forward, his gaze hardening.

  “This isn’t random. It’s maintenance. Like it’s correcting itself.”

  My pulse spikes.

  “There are systems here. Patterns. Rules.” His voice is steady, but there’s something underneath, something coiled tight. “Things beyond our control. But this…”

  He pauses. The silence stretches.

  “This might be the one thing we can control. Something we can manipulate.”

  He leans in. His voice drops to almost a breath.

  “You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”

  I nod slowly. Some pieces fall into place. Others… scramble.

  And how does this save her?

  And then....

  The answer hits me. Not like a strike, but like a weight.

  A slow, crushing truth settling into my chest.

  My hands begin to tremble.

  No.

  No, no, no…

  My voice is barely there.

  “You want me to kill someone.”

  It cracks.

  “To save a life… you want me to take another.”

  My heartbeat is deafening. My breath catches.

  Heat floods my body, too fast. Too much.

  I feel sick.

  I feel numb.

  “This is why you didn’t tell me sooner,” I whisper. “You knew I’d never agree. Not if I had time to think.”

  White doesn’t flinch.

  “It’s the only way. If I’d told you earlier, you’d twist the plan into something it’s not. That’s who you are.

  Some knight in shining armor, here to save everyone, to become some kind of hero.

  You’d hope. You’d hesitate. And then you’d fail.

  Because here, as I’ve said again and again, winning also means losing.”

  He pauses, lets the words hang heavy between us.

  “I had to do what I had to.

  And now, it’s your turn.

  And yes, of course it’s your choice.”

  His voice is cold. Final.

  My jaw tightens.

  “You call this a choice?” I snap. “You lured me here with hope. Left trails like breadcrumbs... because you knew I’d follow. You used me.”

  “If you succeed,” he says, “you’ll thank me. She’ll live. That’s what matters.”

  “Thank you for becoming a murderer?” My voice rises, sharp, desperate.

  “You want me to trade a life for hers? You think I can look at Grace after that? And what about her, White? She won’t be the same, she’ll carry it, even if she doesn’t know why.”

  My chest tightens. The words hit like glass.

  “And if it fails? If your plan tears this whole place apart, then what, White?”

  His eyes don’t move. Cold. Certain.

  This world, let’s call it the system, operates on a strict balance. The number of people is always fixed at 13. When someone dies, a newcomer takes their place. The critical detail is that the newcomer doesn’t increase the count, they replace the one who died, ensuring the balance remains intact. The replacement is so immediate, so precise, that it feels like this place can’t function without exactly 13 people. Every death and arrival is part of a seamless mechanism, creating the illusion of perfect order.

  But if someone is killed before their time, interfering with that balance, the system can’t respond immediately. It’s not just a matter of swapping one person for another. The unscheduled death creates a void, disrupting the timeline and forcing the system to adjust.

  For example, if Grace was meant to die tomorrow, but someone else is killed early, Grace's timeline is thrown off. She no longer has a designated lifespan within the system, because someone else has taken it. She can't be eliminated, and she can't be replaced. She becomes an anomaly.

  To compensate, the system transfers the remaining lifespan of the person who was killed early to Grace. That way, it can eliminate her when her new time comes and replace her properly. It’s how the system fills the void and restores its balance, quietly, mechanically, without emotion. It's that simple.

  “Simple,” I breathe, laughing bitterly. “You’re going to turn this place into hell. You start this, and people will find out. They’ll all start killing each other just to stay alive.”

  White tilts his head, unfazed.

  “Maybe they will. But that’s not my concern. To save some, you lose some.”

  His voice is steady, clinical.

  “If others follow… that’s on them. I didn’t give them this choice. I gave you the choice.”

  He leans closer, eyes narrowing like frost creeping over glass.

  “Everyone here is going to die, pointless, meaningless, forgotten. At least this way, their deaths might matter. At least this way, they die so someone else can live.”

  His tone shifts.

  “Grace brings hope. She matters more than most here. Some people… they’ve already given up. You’ve heard them. They want to die. Maybe, just maybe, you’d be doing them a favor.”

  I clench my fists. My voice drops low.

  “You’re a monster.”

  He doesn’t blink.

  “You pretend this is for the greater good. But you set this up. You built this corner and shoved me into it.”

  “That’s why I didn’t tell you earlier,” he says. Calm. Cold. “You’d waste time chasing miracles. And by then… she’d be gone.”

  “I could have found another way!” My voice shatters on the edge of grief. “You don’t know that!”

  “No,” he says. “I do. You would’ve failed. And so would Grace.”

  The silence that follows is unbearable. My breath comes shallow. My pulse pounds like a warning.

  He leans back, eyes steady.

  “You know... if you’re too soft to pull the weeds out, too scared to do what’s right, then maybe you were never the one for this.”

  His voice sharpens, like glass underfoot.

  “If you don’t have the spine... if this is all too much...”

  He pauses. The silence grows, pressing in like walls.

  “You want a way out?”

  My heart skips. Just for a second. Something flickers, thin, fragile. A thread of hope.

  “There’s a way,” he says. “No one else has to lose. No one else has to die.”

  The hope catches in my chest.

  Then...

  He crushes it.

  His eyes lock onto mine. Unblinking. Like frost cutting through bone.

  You can always.... Just kill yourself.