The scream ripped through the fog just after dusk.
Short.
Sharp.
Cut off too quickly.
Everyone was on their feet instantly.
"Who was that?" someone shouted.
No answer.
They counted themselves without speaking.
One missing.
His name was Bayo.
The youngest of them. The fastest runner. The one who kept saying—over and over—that fear was a choice.
"He said he'd walk the shoreline," Jonah said quietly. "Said he needed air."
The fog near the water shifted, parting just enough to reveal footprints.
Fresh.
Leading away from the group.
Leading inland.
Rule three whispered through Jonah's mind like a curse.
If the island shows you something from your past—do not run.
They followed the footprints cautiously, calling Bayo's name, voices low, afraid of carrying too far.
The forest accepted them this time.
No resistance.
No warning.
Just trees standing too close together.
They found Bayo at the clearing.
Standing upright.
Still.
"Bayo?" Jonah said.
No response.
As they drew closer, Jonah's stomach dropped.
Bayo's eyes were open—but unfocused, staring at something that wasn't there. His lips moved soundlessly, repeating a single word.
"No… no… no…"
"What did you see?" someone asked, voice trembling.
Bayo suddenly screamed again—this time full, raw, broken.
"They said I could fix it!" he cried. "They said I could go back!"
The ground beneath him darkened.
Not with blood.
With shadow.
It climbed his legs like smoke pulled downward, wrapping him in cold silence. The forest leaned in, branches creaking softly.
Jonah reached for him.
The stranger's voice exploded in his memory:
Do not run.
"Stay with us!" Jonah shouted.
Bayo looked at him, eyes suddenly clear—lucid for one terrifying second.
"It showed me who I really am," he whispered. "And it hated me."
The shadow swallowed him.
No violence.
No struggle.
Just absence.
The clearing was empty again.
The footprints were gone.
The island exhaled.
They ran back to the shore without speaking.
No one suggested sleeping.
No one suggested leaving.
Because now they understood.
The island did not take the weak first.
It took the ones who refused to face themselves.
Jonah stared into the forest long after darkness fell.
Somewhere deep inside it, the island was learning them.
One truth at a time.