“The timer has already reset,” August admitted, stepping back from the pile and turning to face them.

“Fantastic,” Rittan said, smiling.

“Not fantastic,” Kalter said, shaking her head. “We should hold back on the summoning thing.”

August glanced over at her; he very much doubted Kalter had the same concerns about summoning more people that he did. So why had she suddenly decided to plant a flag in the sand over it? Uncharitble or not, his mind when immediately to what she might gain from suggesting it.

“What?” Rittan said, turning to face her in surprise.“I thought that you, of all people, would understand—we need to save them.”

“I do understand,” Kalter said, crossing her arms. “But the situation here isn’t that simple.”

August found himself checking on Haiko’s reaction—thinking that his own discussion with her about voting blocks had been reiterated in some manner to Kalter, but she seemed as confused as the rest of them.

“That’s not a reason,” Rittan pressed, frowning down at her. “You know what it’s like in there, what they’re all going through—why would you want them to remain in that place?”

“Stop saying it like that,” Kalter said, visibly frowning now. “I don’t want them to stay in limbo.”

“But that is what you’re suggesting,” Rittan said, firmly.

“Rittan, we are in an extremely dangerous situation right now,” Kalter said, staring him down. “We have nothing more than a rudimentary shelter, very limited supplies—we’re one bad encounter away from the end, one mistake.”

“That’s all the more reason to summon more of our people,” Rittan said, holding his hands out palm up. “They will want to help us, and they at least deserve the chance to see the sun again—”

“More doesn’t mean better, Rittan,” Kalter interjected, voice hard. “More doesn’t make our supplies last longer; more only increases the chances that someone messes up.”

“We could fight together,” Rittan said, leaning forward. “If enough of us are here, we could—”

“You’ve seen what his monster can do,” Kalter snapped, slashing her hand at August. “We don’t have the equiptment to fight them, and throwing more bodies at the problem isn’t going to solve that. Our strength lies in avoidance, and more numbers means we’re more likely to draw something to us—something like that thing up on the ridge, or in the fucking lake.”

“So your answer is to leave them to suffer? A time where this Island is safe enough for you to act may never come,” Rittan said, anguished. “When August asked me who was the one we should summon; I shut away my concern for my friends, for those I knew in life. I chose you, because if there was ever a symbol, or a savior of the Voithos, then it was Kalter—and now that you’re here you’re paralysed by fear?”

“I am not afraid,” Kalter snarled, stepping forward into his personal space. “We need to use our fucking heads. We need to minimize the chance of something going wrong, and maximize our advantages if we want to—”

“You continue to refuse the advantages that August has offered us,” Rittan said, voice tight. “Do you think that is being effective, Kalter?”

August stared at the two, feeling the tension building by the second. He wasn’t so callous that he could leave the rest of the Voithos to an eternity in Limbo—even if he was worried about where that might place him in the future.

“That’s not the same thing,” Kalter said, furious.

Rittan’s desire was clear to see, without hidden motivation or deceit—but Kalter wasn’t so easy to figure out. Was this her attempt to gain leverage over the group? Restrict the group size, and then keep them in line through the force of her personality or the unspoken threat of something more? Or was she truly honest about her reasoning and rationality? Was this the best way to survive in the end? Scurrying around like bugs and trying to avoid being stepped on?

“It’s exactly the same, and you are ruled by fear,” Rittan said, looking down at her coldly. “Fear of August. Fear of this Island. Fear of the Children of Gaia—”

Kalter grabbed onto the twine holding the front of his vest together, and the leaves tore under the force.

“Don’t call them that,” Kalter hissed, eyes bright with anger.

“My words are my own,” Rittan said, clearly and unflinching. “I will call them what I choose.”

August felt a shiver of adrenaline work its way up to his spine, certain that the moment would shatter in an instant and violence would break out. He couldn’t recall seeing Rittan angry before now—he didn’t grow hot and animated as Kalter did; instead, he became more measured and cold.

“Kalter,” Haiko murmured, carefully sliding between them. “This isn’t the right way to do this.”

Kalter’s gaze remained locked on Rittan even as Haiko took her hand and disentangled her fingers from the twine. Haiko rested two more hands on her shoulders and leaned in until she’d blocked Rittan entirely from view, and Kalter finally met her gaze.

“Let’s take a break, okay?” Haiko said quietly, steering her away.

August watched them go, quietly glad that Haiko had been the one they’d summoned—if it had been someone else, someone with less of a calming effect on her, then this might have gone a lot worse than it had. Rittan remained where he was, but his gaze was locked on the sky above, the three hazy moons looming over them like the eyes of some great beast.

“Rittan,” August said, eventually.

“I—know that she is right, to some degree, and I am aware that you hold your own concerns,” Rittan said quietly, the hard edge draining away from him. “I’ve always been good at reading people, and I can see it on your face whenever we speak of it.”

“I’m scared,” August admitted, coming clean, “You all have something in common, you know? I don’t have the comfort of a shared history—I just have a great big unknown.”

Rittan turned his head to look at him.

“The Gaians, the Voithos, Machine races, Runes and factories that build monsters,” August said, reaching into that unknown and airing his fears. “All these stories of Hekaton include a culture that’s nothing like my own—stranded on Devil’s Nest or not, this is your world, and even the sky looks different.”

August took a deep breath and then let it all out.

“So, I’m scared of the unknown, I guess, or how things might end up down the line,” August said, closing his eyes. “I’m worried about being killed or stripped of my agency. I’m scared of being the one with the control and the idea that I could lose it.”

“I’m sorry,” Rittan murmured, “The thought of leaving them there—I can’t stand it.”

August opened his eyes and found Rittan with his hand covering his face.

“I know, man,” August said quietly, “Listen, I don’t always know the best course of action to take, and I’m definitely not unflinching in the face of the unknown, but I can promise you this—we will save them, Rittan, but it might just take us a little bit of time.”

“A little bit of time,” Rittan echoed, slowly breathing out his frustrations. “Thank you, my friend, but I only hope that they will not have to wait too long.”

August reached up and rested his hand on his arm.

“So do I,” August admitted.