Mary’s pendant radiated light like a glowstick, showering the motel room with purple. Shadows flickered across the walls. Adam stared at it, then slapped himself in the face. Mary’s pendant was still there.

Okay, That’s weird. He thought. He tapped the surface, almost flinching from the heat. It would like grabbing a lightbulb. I’m damn sure this thing didn’t act like a nightlight before. Am I tripping? Did someone lace my beer?

Any further thoughts were halted by a violent rumble. The bed frame shook. The painting opposite the bed fell from the wall and landed face-down on the carpet. Adam bolted upright, tossing the covers aside.

An earthquake? In this part of the country?

No, he didn’t have time to ponder geographical faults and whatnot. This motel was shakier than a house of matchsticks. He needed to leave, fast. He shoved his clothes on, grabbed his bag (thank god he always packed light), and headed for the door.

As he swung the door out, a second, tremendous rumble shook the motel. It was like someone had detonated the lower floor. The floor bounced forward and Adam fell through the doorframe, cursing. He closed his eyes, expecting imminent pain around his skull.

It didn’t happen. Instead, he found himself pulsating into the wall. Parts of it slicked back as Adam dove through, as if constructed from sticky mud. He thrashed his arms and legs around, shouting obscenities, and only succeeded in sinking himself into the not-mud. He looked forward and saw only darkness.

Infinite, expansive darkness—a solid block of black space. Forward momentum sent him tumbling through it. The sight of the motel corridor vanished into a pinprick into a distance.

Then, he descended, like a bird shot out of the sky. Terrified and helpless. The pendant buckled up and down through the rushing wind, casting rays of purple light in all directions. Through the brief flashes, Adam saw other people falling, screaming just like as he was.

Mary! Was Adam’s final thought, before he landed.

It wasn’t what he expected. Oh, it was rough, painful, and threw his brain for a loop—but it didn’t kill him.

His bones were intact and his blood hadn’t splattered all over the place. His bag and clothes were intact, the former having cushioned his fall. The ground was soft, too. Its texture reminded him of grassy lots after the spring rain.

Other voices sounded off around him, bewildered, frightened, and even indignant.

“Ow, my back…”

“Where the hell am I? Am I dreaming?”

“What the heck, I was just getting to the good part!”

A couple of murmurings became a group of shared voices, then a chorus, finally evolving into a full-blown symphony of jumbled words and sentences. The noise was deafening. It was like sitting in the stands of a big game, except amplified a dozen times then run through a static filter.

Was the entire population of Steeldale here? It sounded like it. He dug his phone out of his backpack. Maybe he could meet up with Trent or his other acquaintances.

‘NO SIGNAL’ read the Internet connection status. Scowling, Adam shoved the phone back into the backpack. He shoved his hands over his ears. He breathed in and out, steadying his pounding heart.

Why are we here? Adam thought. As much as he would’ve liked this to be a dream, it wasn’t. Therefore, the next step was to think. Sure, his official school grades sucked, but Adam hadn’t risen to the top of the delinquent hierarchy by blindly stumbling through life.

Everything happened for a reason—a shifty look here, a conspicuous glare there—and ignoring warning signs led to missed opportunities and painful wounds.

Whatever brought Steeldale here had made this space oppressively dark, hindering co-operation. It caught them off guard in the middle of the night, preventing them from bringing in any potentially useful items. A memory of a long-discarded science textbook flashed through Adam’s mind. A photograph of rats in cages, with a grinning, bespectacled scientist gazing down with poison in his hands…

He shuddered. There was purpose alright, and his hunch told him it didn’t involve all of Steeldale getting out safe.

Gotta stay on my toes. He had to be the first to react. He clutched Mary’s pendant, obscuring its light. Best not to attract so much attention for now.

The ground rumbled. Adam tensed, prepared to spring into action. He saw the earth rise, forming great pyramids within seconds. The crowd screamed as people slid off the pyramids, tumbling into each other. Beams of light then shot down from the sky, landing on the tips of the pyramids with an incredible burst.

Holy shit. Adam thought, after blinking the spots from his eyes. That light sure is something.

Even from his position, Adam could tell how brilliant the light beams were. They glittered brighter and fuller than any piece of gold. Their warmth radiated in all directions, comforting him and the others, like a fine day out in the sun. He shivered. A primal desire had awakened inside of him, demanding he touch the light, and he knew it wasn’t natural.

Am I a fucking firefly now?

The crowd shifted, moving towards the light. Adam followed. He took a step, then felt something wet drip down on his neck. He craned his neck skywards.

“Oh my god, is that blood?” A woman screamed in the distance.

Glowing, cherry-red liquid cascaded down from the heavens, hard and fast as a thunderstorm, drenching Adam in a matter of seconds. It felt as thick as blood, but the color was off and instead had a mild, sour taste, like biting into a lemon. Flecks of greyish matter evaporated from wherever the liquid hit.

He took another step and heard a faint splash.

He took another step and heard a splash. He looked down. The sigh of a soaked ground greeted him. A thin layer of the liquid had formed beneath him and the rest, reaching up to the tip of his shoes.

Adam noticed, with growing horror, that the liquid was rising, fast. He glanced at the light, then back at the pool. Two and two were put together.

He flung his bag into the shadows. It hit some poor soul, eliciting a cry of pain. Adam ignored them. He sprung forward like a rampaging leopard, charging straight at the nearest pyramid. The splashing of his feet, the cries of shock from the people he shoved out the way, and the aching of his muscles all blurred into a single, determined thought.

Get up there. If you don’t, you’ll die.

The silence from before had transformed into a howling cacophony of shouting and movement. Others had gotten the idea, too. Someone bumped into Adam and he threw a fist sideways. The man fell-face first into the red pool. Or rather, that’s what Adam visualized. There was no time to check.

He leaped onto the base of the nearby pyramid. The texture was like clay and just as soft too. The material gave way under his fingers, forming makeshift holes for him to onto. He thrust his body up and began to climb.

One, two. One, two. Sweat trailed down his back. The heat of the pendant stung from its spot around his neck. Keep climbing. Don’t look back. Don’t think about anyone else. You have to survive.

You have to win.

As he approached the summit, the light grew brighter. It burned, but he dared not raise an arm to block it. Loud, heavy splashes rang out in the distance. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened.

How far had he climbed? Halfway, a third, maybe even less? It was hard to tell from this angle, and the light obscuring the upper limit of his vision didn’t help. His back ached. His shirt felt clammy. His only comfort was the knowledge that, due to his early initiative, he was ahead of the pack.

Until he saw a man in a suit crawl past him.

It was a salaryman, one of the types that toiled away in grey office jobs. The man tore up the side of the pyramid, huffing and puffing with a face as red as a tomato. He even did while in a white shirt and suit pants. Adam snarled and hastened his pace, scrambling after him. No way was this guy surviving instead of him!

A sudden, nasty thought occurred to him. With a burst of strength, he lunged forward, a hand aimed at the salaryman’s trousers hole. Just as his fingers touched the fabric, there was a flash of purple light.

An image, suspended in time. A boy was falling, a first-class view of the red pool below. His mouth was wide open in a silent scream of rage. He locked eyes with the boy and saw that it was him.

Adam yanked his hand back, gasping. Not a second later, he heard a shriek from above.The salaryman was falling, wailing a name Adam did not recognize. As the man fell past him, Adam saw another person clinging to their leg, a clear look of regret on their face. They both screamed their lungs out, hit the red pool with a loud splash, and vanished from sight.

That could’ve been me. Adam thought, a numb horror creeping inside. If I had grabbed onto that guy, I would have fallen with him.

I am not going to try that shit again. The how’s and why’s could be figured out once he clawed his way out of danger. And so, he resumed climbing, this time with increased fervor.

Time flattened into an endless stretch. The light was too bright near the summit, forcing him to climb with his head bowed.

One, two. One, two.

He refused to think how long he had been climbing, or how far the red pool had risen. It was quieter now. The splashes were getting less and less frequent.

Mary’s pendant swayed from side to side. Her ghost whispered into his ears. Survive and win. Survive and win, Adam. Do it for me, okay?

I’m trying, sis, I am. He wanted to scream. But I’m running on fumes here.

Every breath crushed his lungs in an invisible vice. Every pull-up branded his joints with fire and acid. His shirt was less cloth and mostly sweat, by now. If someone was ahead of him, could they hurry the hell up and reach the top already?

His hand hit something sharp. His eyes widened. Could he have…?

He closed his eyes, gathered up the last remaining vestiges of his strength, and hauled himself up. A wall of light greeted his dazed and tired eyes. There was nothing else beyond it.

He stood on the summit. He had survived. He had won.

His legs buckled. A wave of exhaustion hit him like a truck. Around him, other climbers groaned and moaned, pitifully. In response, Adam laughed out loud, both a celebration of his victory, along with the realization of how inane it all was.

“Is it done?” He rasped. “Can I go home now?”

A voice resounded inside his head. It was not spoken from above, rather transmitted instantaneously, like electronic signals to his fleshy radio of a brain.

THIS WAS A TRIAL. The voice boomed. Adam couldn’t tell if it was male or female. A NEW WORLD NOW AWAITS THOSE WHO REMAIN, BUT IT IS NOT EQUAL TO ALL.

The red pool was now an ocean. Just how many had drowned?

THE REST SHALL BE EXILES. YOU, HOWEVER, SHALL BE A PACTBEARER.

Adam collapsed to the ground and blacked out.