"Well, not yet." Rig scratches his head. "Get yourselves in groups of four."
"You have an hour," Gemml adds.
It's only been thirty minutes since the first trial ended. Many of the contestants are still shaken up by it and make little effort to move. Gemml and Rig shroud themselves in smoke before vanishing from the scene.
"They can do that?!" Isaac blurts, shaking Risa as he stares in dumbfounded awe. "So cool."
"These trials..." Isaac mutters to Risa.
"Mmm..." she replies.
"I won't deny that the previous trial affected me." She twitches her lips in a strained smile. "Since surviving that monster, I can't help but regret ever coming here."
Isaac stands, pulling Risa up with him. He looks around, assessing everyone else, before returning his gaze to her.
"Forcing us into an elimination-by-death survival game with the odds seemingly stacked against us." He places a hand on each of her shoulders. "There's no one taking it well."
He continues, "We decided to chase their promises for a multitude of reasons, and that's why we'll complete these trials and get to Derium. Isn't that right, Risa?"
A smile stretches across her face. "I'm glad you're here, Isaac."
"Same," he replies.
"Mind if I tag along?" The voice approaches from their right.
Towering above Isaac stands a lean man. His arms are wrapped with bandages, and his hair dyed blue.
"I'm Drule," he tells them.
They tilt their faces, and they look at each other.
Their eyes slowly widen as they let out a faint, "ahhh."
They forget they need a few people for the next trial. They introduce themselves to Drule, and the crew starts wandering around looking for new members. Ten minutes later, and they're still trying to find their last teammate.
"This is quite difficult," Drule exhales.
"We still have more than forty minutes," Isaac replies. "No need to make a fuss so soon."
"Regarding that," Risa cuts in. "There's quite a number of people still dazed. I wonder if there's some penalty if we don't form a team?"
"That's a good point," Isaac affirms.
"I SAID TO PISS OFF STUPID BRAT!"
The words tear through the air—everyone's necks snap to the corner of the space. It's a boy. He looks to be no older than nine-years-old. Curled up on the floor, his eyes shake violently as he stares at the foot about to step on him.
"Cart... Please just..." he tries to cry out.
However, his cries are ignored. STOMP! His face sinks into the ground. Cart lifts his foot again and kicks him across the cold stone floor. Isaac and Risa freeze at the sight. A few contestants avert their gaze. Isaac grits his teeth before darting towards him without a moment to spare. Risa follows close behind him, while Drule stays back.
"Get out of my way," Cart yells as he sprints toward the boy.
Before they can intercept—another kick sends the boy rolling across the floor. Cart then rushes in for another kick.
"STOP IT!" Isaac shouts.
Cart only takes a single step before turning to Isaac.
"You some wannabe hero?" Cart's eyebrow narrows.
The boy—barely managing to move—musters enough strength to get a look at Isaac's face before collapsing to the floor.
Cart flings himself towards Isaac at full speed while pulling a knife from his waist. Isaac attempts to evade but falls onto his rear. CHING! The knife hits the ground. Standing between them is Drule—Cart's hand clutched between his grip as he struggles to break free.
"Drule?" Isaac looks up.
"You didn't seem like you could handle a beating." He looks to his right, "Go help the kid. I'll stall this guy."
Risa helps Isaac up after confirming he's okay and they head over to aid the boy. There is a small gathering around him but he isn't being approached by anyone. Risa reaches in her waist bag and pulls out a few first aid items.
His small frame is covered in bruises, and tattered clothes are all that's keeping his body warm. Yet, despite his rugged state, the glint still remains in his eyes.
Without much resistance from the boy, Risa is able to treat his bruises properly. She then props his body to sit upright and give him some water to drink.
"So how was that? Feeling better?" she asks him.
"Mhmm..." he responds, seemingly unwilling to have a conversation.
"Say, What's your name?" She follows up, but he gives no reply.
Her eyebrows fall and her cheeks puffs as she turns to Isaac, who is chuckling by her side.
"Let me." Isaac steps forward and kneels before the boy extending his hand.
"I'm Isaac," he tells the boy but gets left hanging.
Isaac keeps his hand out for a moment longer, then lets out a small breath and pulls it back.
"Alright," he says quietly. "That's fine too."
He shifts to sit cross-legged in front of the boy instead, lowering himself to his level and Risa does the same. The three of them form a small circle and they sit in silence except from the murmur from the crowd.
"Not a word still huh? Unfortunately for you I'm not leaving here without learning your name first." Isaac teases him.
The boy turns to him with narrowed eyes—annoyed at his persistence.
"Why?" A big grin covers Isaac's face. "Because you're my teammate. Why else?"
"Eh—" Risa turned to Isaac open-mouthed.
The boy—whose fingers were curled up in his tattered clothes, eyes widen and his face softens, shortly his eyes beging welling up with tears.
"Yo... Your... teammate?"
"Yeah. Isn't that right, Risa?" Isaac keeps his smile.
"That's right." She pulls herself closer to Isaac. "Welcome aboard kid"
"Criss. My name is Criss." He tells them with his shaking voice.
Cart's struggle against Drule slows. His gaze shifts—past Drule, past the crowd—locking onto Criss propped up between Isaac and Risa.
"Tch," he scoffs.
Cart jerks his arm free and takes a step back.
"Just make sure he stays away from me." He walks away.
As Drule is returning to the group, Isaac fixates on Cart. His unsightly presence brews anger within Isaac as he digs his fingers deeper into his palms. Criss notices Isaac's anger being directed at Cart and lowers his gaze.
"Cart... he's... he's my brother." He mutters under his breath.
"What!?" Isaac flings his neck around.
"What are you saying?" Rias stands up and steps closer to Criss.
She crouches before him with her hands on his shoulder. "You mean, your own brother was treating you like that"?
"I think... he might hate me."
Drule walks up to them. "Think?"
Isaac shoots up from his position stepping in Carts direction, but the distance isn't shrinking—he's being held back by Drule.
"You better stay put. I don't doubt he could knock you out in a single puch." Drule warns him. "We have a full team now, we should focus on getting ourselves in the state of mind for the next trial."
Issac shrugs him off, and slowly walks uo to Criss. "Why are you being treated like this?"
Criss shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of Isaac and Risa. He wanted to speak, to say something, but the words lodged in his throat. His small frame trembled—not from the cold, or bruises but from the memories that clawed at him from the corners of his mind.