Station Three doesn't wait.
One moment Arden's in Terminal Zero. Next moment. Transported.
No warning. No choice. Just. Gone.
She's standing in a garden. Again.
But different. Not green. Colorful. Roses. Daisies. Tulips. Children's playground in the distance. Swings. Slides. Sandbox.
Beautiful. Wrong.
Kael appears beside her. Then Jin-Hwa. The surgeon. Then Callum. The priest.
Four of them now. Others stayed behind. Too scared. Too broken.
"Where are we?" Jin-Hwa asks.
"The Garden of Lost Children." Arden reads the sign. Wooden. Hand-painted. Cheerful. "My third novel."
"About?"
"Children who died. Came back wrong. Lived in a garden. Fed on memories."
"Of course it is." Callum crosses himself. Old habit. Priest habit. "Why is everything you write here?"
"Because the Entity uses what you fear most. What you created. What you can't escape."
A sound. Laughter. High. Young. Coming from the playground.
They walk toward it. Careful. Watching.
The playground is empty. Swings moving. No one pushing them. Just. Wind. Maybe.
Then a child steps out from behind the slide.
Girl. Maybe seven. Blonde hair. Dirty dress. Black eyes. Completely black. No whites. No iris. Just. Void.
"Hello," she says. Voice sweet. Innocent. "Want to play?"
"No." Arden backs away. "We're just passing through."
"But you never pass through. Nobody passes through. Everyone stays. Everyone plays. Forever."
More children appear. Stepping from behind trees. Emerging from flowerbeds. Rising from the sandbox.
Dozens of them. All with black eyes. All smiling.
"Run," Kael says.
They run. Away from the playground. Into the garden proper.
Behind them. Children. Not running. Just. Following. Patient. Inevitable.
"This way." Arden turns left. Into a rose garden. Thorns catching her clothes. Scratching skin.
She stops. Dead end. Wall of roses. No exit.
Turns. The children are there. Surrounding them. Cutting off escape.
"You can't run from us," one says. Boy. Maybe nine. "We're already inside you. Already part of you. We're every child you failed. Every child you watched suffer. Every child you couldn't save."
Jin-Hwa gasps. "You're not real. You're not—"
"We're very real." The children move closer. Circle tightening. "We're every abortion you performed. Every surgery that failed. Every child who died on your table."
Jin-Hwa falls to her knees. Sobbing. "I tried. I tried to save them."
"But you didn't." The children reach for her.
Arden pulls out the Codebook. Opens it. Pen appears in her hand.
She writes.
The children stop moving.
The words glow. Sink into the page. Burn.
The children freeze. Mid-step. Mid-reach. Frozen like statues.
"What did you do?" Kael asks.
"Used the Codebook. First time." Arden feels it. The cost. Something. Gone. Taken.
What did she lose? Can't remember. Tries to grasp it. Nothing. Just. Absence.
"We need to move." She grabs Jin-Hwa. Pulls her up. "Now. While they're frozen."
They run. Past frozen children. Through the rose garden. Searching for an exit.
Find a hedge maze. Enter. Turning left. Right. Right. Left. Lost. Disoriented.
Then Arden sees it.
A girl. Standing in the center of the maze. Blonde hair. Nine years old.
Lira.
Not adult Lira. Child Lira. The Lira from the lake. From the drowning. From the forty-seven seconds.
"Hello sister," child-Lira says. "Remember me?"
Arden's legs stop working. Can't move. Can't breathe.
"You're not real. You're not. Lira survived. She's alive. She's—"
"I'm the version that drowned. The version you didn't save. The version that died while you counted."
More children appear. All around. All blonde. All nine years old. All Lira.
No. Not Lira.
Arden.
Every child has Arden's face. Her eyes. Her features.
Younger versions. Different ages. But all. Her.
"What." Arden's voice cracks. "What is this?"
"We're you," the children say. In unison. Dozens of voices. One voice. "Every version that failed. Every timeline where you died. Every Arden that didn't make it past Station Three."
They step closer. Circle tightening.
"We drowned here. Became part of the garden. Became children again. Lost ourselves. And now we're going to take you. Make you one of us. Make you remember what it's like to be nothing."
The nearest Arden-child reaches out. Touches Arden's hand.
Pain. Immediate. Burning. Memory flooding.
She sees. Everything. All at once.
Station Three. Different Games. Different timelines. Different versions of herself.
All of them dying. All of them drowning. All of them becoming children. Becoming garden. Becoming lost.
She's died here before. Many times. In other Games. Other realities.
And each time. She became this. Became them.
"No." Arden pulls away. Burns her hand but pulls away. "I'm not dying here. Not becoming you. Not joining you."
"You already have." The children smile. Sad smiles. Knowing smiles. "In forty-seven other timelines. We're waiting for you. We're you."
Arden grabs the Codebook. Writes again.
I am not them. I am separate. I am real.
The words burn. Hurt. Cost more. Something else gone. Something important.
What was it? Can't remember. Mother's. Mother's what? Voice? Face? Name?
Gone. Whatever it was. Gone.
But the children scream. High. Terrible. Pained.
They dissolve. Melting into roses. Into grass. Into garden. Gone.
An exit appears. Door. Wooden. Carved with. With what?
Arden can't remember. Something familiar. Something that mattered. Just. Gone.
"Let's go." Kael pulls her toward the exit. "Before something else comes."
They step through.
Terminal Zero. Again.
Arden collapses. Exhausted. Broken. Lighter somehow. Emptier.
"What did you lose?" Kael asks.
She searches her memory. Finds gaps. Holes. Missing pieces.
"I don't know." Truth. Terrible truth. "But it was important. I know it was important. I just. Can't remember what."
Jin-Hwa sits beside her. "Thank you. For saving me. For stopping them."
"I didn't save you. I used the Codebook. Paid the price. That's not saving. That's trading."
"Still. Thank you."
Arden looks at the Codebook. Two uses. Two costs. Two pieces of herself. Gone.
And they're only on Station Three. Four more to go. Plus the final confrontation. Plus whatever comes after.
How many more times will she use it? How many more pieces will she lose?
By the end. If she survives. If she wins.
Will she even remember why she started?
Miranda appears. Clapping. Always clapping.
"Wonderful! Two Codebook uses already! The Entity is delighted. Simply delighted. You're feeding it so well."
"What?" Arden stands. Legs shaking but standing. "What did you say?"
"The Codebook. Dear girl. Did you think it was a gift? A tool? A weapon?" Miranda laughs. Bright. Cruel. "It's a leash. Every time you use it. Every word you write. Every cost you pay. You feed the Entity. Make it stronger. Give it exactly what it wants."
"No." Arden looks at the book in her hands. "No I'm. I'm fighting it. I'm killing fragments. I'm—"
"You're playing the Game exactly as designed. Fighting makes better entertainment. Killing fragments makes better fear. And using the Codebook? That makes you delicious."
Miranda leans close. Whispers.
"You've been feeding the Entity since the moment you picked up a pen. Every horror story you wrote. Every nightmare you created. Every fear you gave form. You've been feeding it for years. And now? Now you're the meal."
She vanishes.
Arden stares at the Codebook. At the weapon that's also a trap. At the tool that's also a leash.
Four more Stations. Four more chances to use it. Four more costs to pay.
But what choice does she have?
Stop using it. Die. Resurrect Empty.
Or keep using it. Feed the Entity. Become exactly what it wants.
Lose either way.
But at least one way. She's fighting. She's moving forward. She's trying.
Even if trying means becoming the thing she fears most.
Even if winning means losing everything.
Even if surviving means forgetting why survival mattered.
She puts the Codebook back in her pocket.
Four more Stations.
Four more costs.
Four more pieces of herself.
Gone.