The crystal looked like something out of Alric brother’s video games. Perhaps, that’s why Finn fixated on it.

When the rest of the group saw it as well, their reactions varied. Timofey shrugged towards Alric before grabbing Veronika and disappearing somewhere. Nym made a circle with his open palm.

“Blasphemy,” he muttered. “This is not a product of the Sacred Tree.”

“Watch over Finn,” said Rachel while making her way towards the object. The elf didn’t want to approach it, so he sat down and began chanting a prayer.

“Is this where we get our quest?” Alric chuckled once he caught up to his friend.

There was still a chance the crystal was being kept up by vines. However, once they got closer, it became all too clear this was not the case.

Neither teen was particularly eager to touch the flying object, but eventually, Rachel cursed under her breath and extended a hand.

[Contestants on the island: 6

Live-stream chat available. Open?]

[Yes] [No]

“Is this a joke?” Rachel muttered before pushing the yes button. Right away, a stream of text appeared over a rectangular portion of the crystal.

[They did it.]

[Yeallowww]

[Eat poison, softy!!]

[Diablo’s Metal Works offers a 20% discount on all magical hammers grades 9-13. Use the coupon code to get access now! Spammers will be fed to a pit fiend.]

[Jump off the tree, human!! XOXO]

[Why don't you copulate already?]

[Climb further. The token’s in the upper branches!]

[Ugly s**t!]

After a few more messages like this, Rachel searched for a close button. Since none were found, she wiped her hand across the text. Apparently, doing it sideways removed the screen.

“Disgusting bastards,” she muttered before turning away. Alric’s first instinct was to follow, but for some reason, he hesitated.

‘Become Tom Cruise,’ he remembered. Here was his audience, his one and maybe only shot at stardom. Except, they apparently hated his guts…

“You coming?” asked Rachel.

“Let me think.” There had to be a way to use this thing. Unsure of what to do yet, he reopened the chat and made himself comfortable.

“I’ll stay here for a bit, and… engage with my fans.”

Soon, a never-ending stream of curses and mockery filled his vision. Thinking he was missing Bookface, Rachel shrugged and left him alone.

The girl had gone through enough abuse in the past couple of days to last her a lifetime. Getting cursed out by prepubescent demons was where she crossed the line.

Back at the camp, Finn was munching on a piece of orange vine while Nym was gathering them with an arrow.

“You must make sure not to cut above your hand.” He explained while grabbing a piece. “Or you’ll get dragged down with them.”

The falling piece of vine was longer than some buildings. Rachel didn’t want to imagine how much it weighed and just watched the elf do his work.

Surprisingly, the vine grew at a visible rate. In the time Nym took to cut a piece and place it by his side, the fruit had restored itself to a point where he could cut again.

Unfortunately, the rest of the tree was off limits. There wasn’t much Rachel could do, so she settled for counting her remaining bullets and checking up on Finn.

“How is it?”

Instead of responding, the boy pushed forward his half eaten piece. It was full of seeds, and quite possibly, his saliva.

“Thank you, but I’ll just have another.”

“Do not waste the Sacred Tree’s gift,” said Nym before taking a seat next to them. After looking at the boy up and down, he crossed his legs, placed his hands on his knees, and asked “What is bothering you, child?”

“That’s none of…” The elf’s raised palm made Rachel stop midway.

“Trust me.”

Despite these words, Finn didn’t seem willing to talk. He just stared at his food and occasionally took a bite. Instead of pressing further, the elf grabbed a piece as well and joined him.

For the next few minutes, they ate in silence. Though his stomach rumbled, Finn was eating increasingly slower. He face still lacked expression, but there was something different about his eyes. Eventually, after Nym’s stomach reached sizable proportions, the boy whispered while fiddling with his fingers.

“The other me… is dead.”