Miles hit the ground hard, the impact slamming the air from his lungs.
Kayla landed beside him with a sharp cry, but when he rolled onto his side, she was already pushing herself up, stubborn, breathing.
The room around them spun at first — dizzying, disorienting.
Then it settled.
They were in a forest.
Or something trying to be a forest.
Glittering trees, thin and skeletal, stretched upward into the blackness — their trunks and branches made entirely of glass.
The floor was a cracked, frosted mirror, reflecting thousands of jagged versions of themselves at every step.
The air smelled sterile. Fragile.
One wrong move, and it felt like the whole place would shatter into a million knives.
Miles got his bearings, pulling Kayla to her feet.
"You okay?"
She nodded tightly. "Nothing broken."
Good enough.
They both turned, searching for exits — but the glass trees boxed them in, maze-like, stretching endlessly in every direction.
And then the voice came back.
Soft. Sweet.
Deceptive.
"Welcome to the Orchard of Truth, Detective Rennick. And guest."
A low chime echoed through the glass — every surface vibrating in sympathy.
"One of you has been lying. Lying so much... it poisoned the roots."
Kayla stiffened beside him.
Miles narrowed his eyes. "What kind of lie?"
The voice chuckled.
"Find the truth... or the orchard breaks."
The ground underfoot cracked — a spiderweb of fractures spreading outward.
From somewhere deeper in the trees came a groaning sound, as if the entire structure was under unbearable strain.
Another rule blazed across the far wall:
RULE #10: ROOT OUT THE LIAR. BEFORE YOU BOTH BLEED.
Kayla turned sharply toward him.
"Wait—what is this? What are they talking about?"
Miles didn't answer immediately.
Because the voice hadn't said which of them was the liar.
Kayla looked terrified. Angry.
And something in her eyes flashed — not just fear... but guilt.
Miles tightened his grip on his pistol, but didn't point it yet.
"You said you didn't know anything," he said carefully. "That you were just trapped here like me."
"I am!" she snapped. "I swear—!"
More cracks rippled under their feet.
Branches above them trembled, glass flakes falling like deadly snow.
Another chime.
Another line of text appeared:
LIAR DETECTED.
Kayla flinched visibly.
Miles caught it — the too-fast breath, the way her eyes dropped for just a second.
"You're hiding something," he said grimly.
She backed up a step.
"No—please—you don't understand—"
The trees closest to them exploded, shards flying out in all directions.
Miles threw himself over Kayla, shielding her from the worst of it, feeling tiny cuts open along his back and arms.
When he pulled away, she was crying — not from pain.
From panic.
From shame.
"I didn't know they'd take me," she gasped. "But when they did... they said I could earn my way out if I helped them. If I lured people. Trapped them."
Miles froze.
"You're one of them."
"No!" she sobbed. "I was—at first—I had to! They said if I didn't, they'd kill my family—"
Another chime.
Another crack.
Another blast of glass.
The room was collapsing faster now.
Miles gritted his teeth.
Kayla wasn't the architect.
She wasn't the Watcher.
She was just another pawn.
Like him.
But still...
She had lured others here.
She had helped.
Even if it was under duress.
He holstered his pistol.
"You want redemption?" he said. His voice was rough. "Then earn it. Help me get out. Help me burn this place down."
Kayla nodded, trembling.
Miles grabbed her hand, hauling her upright again.
They ran — weaving through the breaking forest, dodging falling glass branches and bursting mirror-floors.
Behind them, the Orchard shattered completely — a deafening tidal wave of shards.
But ahead, finally, a door appeared — battered and rusted, hanging open by a thread.
They hurled themselves through it just as the entire room collapsed into oblivion behind them.
---
Meanwhile...
The Watcher leaned back, smiling thinly.
"Trust is such a brittle thing," he murmured.
The assistant watched the monitors, sweating.
"But she told the truth. She broke the rule."
The Watcher shrugged.
"In this house, truth is just another weapon."
He pressed a button.
A new room began to assemble itself — slower this time, more careful.
Something special.
Something final.
"Let's see what they break next," the Watcher said, eyes glittering.
---
Miles' Timer: 41:10
(But now... the clock was ticking for both of them.)