The RV hissed softly as it settled to a stop, its weight sinking slightly into the too-soft earth below. Nika was already moving, her black boots making no sound against the grass as she hopped down with mechanical ease. Nick followed, stepping out with a lazy stretch and a yawn, like he'd just woken from a long nap.
The air was... wrong.
It was crisp, like early spring, but it didn't move. Not even a whisper of wind stirred the sea of vibrant green stretching into the horizon. The blades of grass waved rhythmically—as if breathing—but there was no breeze, no source. Just... motion.
Nika narrowed her eyes at the landscape, her expression blank but voice edged with distaste."It's so colorful... I hate it," she muttered. "The grass is moving, but there's no wind. Odd."
Behind them, the others began climbing out of the RV, squinting in the flat, unblinking light of the sky. No clouds. No sun. Just a perfect wash of pale blue that somehow managed to feel both open and oppressive.
Ethan stepped down and immediately slowed, his eyes wide as he took in the impossibility around them. The meadow extended infinitely in every direction, interrupted only by occasional floating shapes—benches, chairs, a singular mailbox—hovering lazily in the air, each one tethered to the earth by faint, glowing white lines.
Aiden was the last to exit. His boots hit the grass with a sharp thud, and for a moment he just stood there, fists clenched at his sides, his jaw locked. The moment stretched.
Then—
"WHERE," he bellowed, stomping forward with raw fury, "THE HELL ARE WE? HUH?! TELL ME!!!"
His voice cracked the silence like a hammer to glass. The sound didn't echo. It just vanished, like the world swallowed it whole.
Nika didn't flinch. Didn't even glance in his direction.Nick, however, turned with that ever-present grin of his—just enough teeth showing to make it unsettling. He didn't say a word. Just stared.
Aiden stormed up to them, fists balled, chest heaving. "I knew something was off with you freaks. You think this is funny? You two playing your little psycho games while we're stranded in—whatever the hell this place is?!"
Nick blinked slowly. Then he tilted his head, smirking. "Funny? No. Hilarious? Maybe."
Aiden shoved him. Hard. Nick barely moved, like he didn't register the impact—or maybe just didn't care.
That grin only widened.
"You think you're untouchable, huh? Some kind of edgy anime villain? You're not special, you're just—"
Ethan rushed forward, panic lighting up his face. "Aiden, don't!" he hissed, grabbing his friend's arm, pulling it back. "Don't fight him. Please. Just—don't."
"Why?! He's begging for it!" Aiden snapped, trying to wrench himself free. "You see that smile?! He's asking for it—!"
"Exactly," Ethan whispered, voice shaking. "That's why you shouldn't."
Nick let out a breathless chuckle, barely audible, but it dripped with poison.
And then—click.
The unmistakable sound of metal leaving leather.
Nika moved for the first time, turning slowly as she unholstered the sleek, matte-black pistol from her thigh. Without a word, she raised it and leveled it directly at Aiden's head.
The silence that followed was heavy. The kind that presses against your ribs and stills your breath.
Aiden froze.
Ethan went pale.
Nick just raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.
Nika's voice, when it came, was calm. Deadly calm. "You're loud," she said, looking at Aiden with the disinterest of someone reading a boring instruction manual.
She didn't lower the gun.
Instead, she turned to Nick.
Crack.
Her slap rang out sharper than Aiden's yelling ever had. Nick's head jerked to the side, the grin flickering—but only for a moment.
"Stop provoking him," Nika said flatly. "I don't have time to babysit your bloodlust."
Nick rubbed his cheek, still smiling. "You're no fun."
Ignoring him, Nika holstered the gun and turned back to the meadow. Without another word, she crouched down and plucked a single blade of grass from the ground.
That's when it happened.
Tiny white lines snapped into place across the grass and the earth like strands of spider silk. Boxes appeared—transparent windows with numbers and glyphs—hovering just above the blade. The grass itself pulsed gently, as if alive, and a single white line connected it back to the dirt like a tether.
Like editing geometry in Blender.
She held it up without looking at anyone, letting the surreal display speak for itself.
This was not just a place.
It was construct.
Jo squinted at the glowing white tethers pulsing from the blade of grass like the veins of some virtual creature.
"What's that supposed to be?" she asked, arms crossed, her green-dyed hair catching the static sky's colorless light in a way that made it shimmer faintly.
"A program," Nika replied, standing up, voice flat.
Jo blinked. "What?"
But Nika had already let the blade fall. As soon as it touched the earth, it blinked out of focus—like the frame was refreshed—and it was as if she had never picked anything up at all. The grass was whole again. Undisturbed. Reality here was not built on rules. It was rendered.
Nika dusted her hands off, turning back toward the RV without a second glance.
Nick followed behind her with a low whistle. "Oh, this place is going to be fun."
The others trailed behind in uneasy silence, their footsteps muffled by the grass that made no sound—only shimmered as if alive. But behind them, Aiden's glare burned into Nick's back like acid. Nika noticed. She always noticed. And she filed that tension away like a weapon waiting to be unsheathed.
Back at the RV, Nika climbed in first. She glanced over her shoulder once the rest had boarded.
"If this place is actually a program," she began, slipping her pistol back into its holster, "then it could be as endless as it looks. That means walking is out of the question."
She turned, expression unreadable, and pointed to Aiden.
"So you. Drive."
Aiden scoffed, but he didn't argue. He climbed into the driver's seat and muttered something under his breath as he twisted the key. The RV gave a low groan, then rumbled to life.
And so, they drove.
There was no sun, no shadows to mark the passing of time—only that endless meadow, rolling and swaying in unnatural rhythm beneath the wheels. No matter how long they drove, the scenery never seemed to change. At first, the group kept checking their phones. One by one, they realized:
No signal.
No time.
Some screens glitched and flickered with static. Others showed times that flicked between years, months, and dates that never existed. Eventually, everyone stopped checking.
The inside of the RV buzzed with quiet tension.
The gas meter wobbled between a quarter and empty. Maya stared at it once, said nothing, and returned to the back corner. She curled up alone, her back to the others, headphones in but disconnected from anything real.
Jo lounged across two seats, tracing the seams of her hoodie idly as she threw occasional looks at Nick.
"You know, you're kinda hot in that psychpath sort of way," she said, lips curled in a half-smile.
Nick grinned without looking at her. "Only kinda?"
"I mean, depends if you've got a knife on you."
"I have this," he replied, casually flicking opens his scissors just long enough for the metallic click to catch her ear. Jo laughed nervously.
Up front, Aiden's fingers tightened on the wheel.
"Of course that creep has fans," he muttered to himself. "This whole place is backwards."
Ethan sat a few rows behind Aiden, his sniper rifle laid gently across his lap. It was polished and intricate, with markings that glowed ever so slightly in the dim RV light—symbols no one recognized. He stared at it, hands resting on the barrel, but his eyes kept drifting toward the front.
To her.
Nika sat on one of the benches near the center, her duffle bag laid open across her knees. She was pulling out weapons, disassembling and reassembling with mechanical precision. rifle, knife, another handgun. Silence.
Ethan hesitated, then cleared his throat. "Hey, uh… Nika?"
She didn't look up. "What?"
"Do you… wanna see this?" He held the sniper up a little, careful not to aim it at her. "The gun."
Finally, her gaze lifted. She set her tools aside and motioned for it.
He passed it over like a relic.
Nika took it, flipped it around, inspecting the engravings, the strange synthetic blend of metal and… something else. Lightweight. Designed for killing something very specific. Her brow furrowed.
"This is military-grade. Private sector," she said, eyes narrowing. "Where'd a kid like you get this?"
Ethan looked down. "My brother runs an organization. Does a lot of things. I took it before I left."
She didn't respond right away.
She handed the rifle back without a word, going back to her weapons. But her mind was already turning. Calculating. She didn't trust anyone here except her brother—but maybe, maybe, some of them could be useful.
At the very least, they were pawns. And pawns still moved.
The RV drove on.
No one asked questions anymore.
The world bent around them in subtle, nauseating ways. Every few minutes, someone swore they saw the same hill. Maya whispered that the sky didn't blink—like even the world was holding its breath.
Then—screech.
Everyone jerked forward, Aiden slamming the brakes hard enough to shake the entire frame of the RV.
"What the hell?!" Jo shouted, grabbing a seat to steady herself.
Aiden stared forward, wide-eyed, not saying a word for a moment.
Then, slowly, he lifted one hand and pointed out the windshield.
"There's… someone standing out there."