Alden came up on all fours, blinking against the disorientation before him. His body shook briefly, a few seconds at most, before steadying. His vision doubled, then snapped back. Cold air found his skin immediately, seeping into his nose and slipping through the thin shirt and pants he wore as if they weren't there.
Everything felt wrong.
It was night, but he could see far more than he should have. This strange brightness didn't come from what he was used to. The sky had no moon, no stars — just a slow swirl of bright blue and venomous green spreading across the expanse like oil on water.
'W-Wait. No. It can't be.'
Heart hammering, Alden forced himself upright. He shivered, not just from the cold, but from the sheer thoughts running through his head.
The landscape stretched out in every direction: an endless field of tall grass swaying in a wind he could barely feel. Green? Blue? He couldn't pinpoint the exact color. It moved in random, unusual patterns.
Though strange and unsettling, the sight was beautiful in its wrongness.
Also, he wasn't alone.
Scattered across that undulating sea of grass were people just like him. They were dressed differently, from pajamas to casual clothes to work attire. A few in nothing but underwear. What they shared was plain on every face.
Shock and confusion.
That lasted about three seconds before it started to vary.
"What's happening?! Where are we?"
"No! No! No! NOOO!"
"I didn't receive an invitation. I shouldn't be here!"
"Don't tell me we're in that place!"
"The rumors were true?! I'm going to die?!"
Most came apart fast. The rest — a quieter few — turned observant and alert.
A middle-aged man in a bathrobe grabbed Alden by the shoulders, breathing hard.
"Where are we?" His breath reeked of panic and something else. "What the hell is this? Where—"
"Get off me."
Alden shoved him back and put distance between himself and the group. He was already struggling to coordinate his own thoughts and didn't need any external complications.
He muttered under his breath, quickly, like a mantra.
"Calm down. Calm down..."
The cold wasn't helping. He could feel his lungs tightening.
This wasn't a dream. There was only one answer to this.
The Beyond.
Those two words sat on his chest like a heavy stone.
The place he was abandoned for. The place he'd spent years of his early teenage life begging, praying, obsessing, coming apart over. The place that had finally stopped mattering to him.
And now he was here anyway.
Every trace of drowsiness was gone. He racked his brain, searching for any memory of an invitation, a dream, anything.
Nothing.
"Forced invitation. So it was true."
A mirthless smile crossed his face. You never get some things you want until you stop wanting them. Three years of not caring. Three years of building a life that didn't revolve around them. And now this.
'Of course! Of fucking course!'
His fingers curled into a fist. Then uncurled.
"Why now?"
Before his thoughts could pull him under, a voice cut through the noise.
Near the center of the group, a young man drew a slow breath, rolled his shoulders back, and looked at the others.
"Everyone."
It didn't work. He said it again — louder this time.
The group turned to him. Holding their attention, he continued.
"My name is Julius Arethiem. I'm a recent graduate and current teacher at the Trial Academy." A pause permeated the group. "I suggest we all try our best to be calm."
Something shifted in the atmosphere. Not much — but something.
"A teacher from the Academy?" a woman early in her adulthood murmured, some strands of her short black hair caught by her wet cheeks.
Everyone knew by now where they were and what had happened to them. Having someone competent in their midst, someone who knew this world, made the difference between drowning and treading water.
Julius was tall, with shoulder-length hair, his other features blurred by the strange light. But the calm he carried was unmistakable. Like a man who'd already accepted where he was.
"I know you're scared," he said. "I am as well. But panicking won't help us." He looked across the group.
"We've all been forcefully brought to the Beyond, whether we like it or not, which makes each one of us Beyonders. I think we should be honored to be here. You might not share that view, but I'm fairly certain we all want to stay alive. So we can either fall apart or quickly work together and survive."
"Feel honored? Are you crazy?" A man's voice, loud and desperate, interrupted. "We're going to die here! I want to go back this instant!"
The expressions around him said he was speaking for most of them.
Julius didn't flinch.
"It's best if we stay positive. Who decided we'd die? I trust we'll all make it. You should feel the same. Every battle won begins in the mind." He held their attention for a moment. "Sixteen of us will survive."
Sixteen?
Alden glanced around, this time actually counting. He was spot on.
Julius's calm was contagious. Even those who'd been shaking with fear were slowly settling and listening.
Alden watched him more carefully than the others did. The night was brighter than it should have been — but still dim enough to soften details at a distance. Still, he noticed something.
'What is that?'
Julius had his fist closed tight around something. An object, gripped and hidden.
"So what do we do now?" A woman in pink pajamas stepped toward the center, her voice trembling with fingers working against each other. "I just put my kids to bed. No one will be there when they wake up. W-What do I do?"
Julius kindly shook his head.
"There's no way back until we complete our first trial. You should all know that."
Alden's fingers twitched without permission. One chance to return — finish the trial. It was common knowledge, but hearing it said plainly in this place landed differently.
"When arriving here, it's usual to initially appear at human settlements to undergo preparation before taking the first trial." Julius frowned up at the sky. "It does not look to be the case for us."
"Wait —" A woman in office clothes went pale. "Human settlements? You mean the Sanctuaries, right? Are you saying we skipped it?"
"What does that mean?" A husky voice came from somewhere in the back.
The answer came from a woman dressed in a sleeveless shirt and shorts. She'd stayed calm and composed after the initial shock, though the look in her eyes hadn't. She spoke plainly.
"It means we're already in a trial."
The words landed like a stone dropped into still water.
People stepped instinctively closer together.
"W-Why? What?"
"We're already in a trial?"
"Aren't trials where most people die?"
"Wait! How can you know for sure? We could easily be displaced somewhere near a sanctuary?" A husky male voice argued.
"I don't know about you all. But the words I heard before arriving here are enough confirmation. You only hear that before a trial. That's basic knowledge."
The silence was proof that they were all in the same boat. The woman shook her head slightly. "I'm assuming that forced arrival skips the preparation stage entirely."
She looked toward the woman in pink pajamas. "Don't worry about your children. The government will take care of them. Worry about yourself."
Already in a trial. Just how bad is this?
Alden quickly and intently scanned the surrounding grass.
After being abandoned by his family, his fixation on this world had grown into something close to obsession. He'd consumed everything he could find on it, until the day he moved on. The knowledge hadn't left him.
He knew starting with a trial was bad. He wasn't sure yet how bad.
Julius turned back to the group. He closed his eyes briefly and when he opened them, something had settled in them. Resolve. Certainty.
"We can't keep complaining. Nothing will change." He let that sit for a second. "I don't know about all of you, but I have something to live for. If we survive this trial, we go home. To our families and everyone we left behind. So I need you to stay calm and focused."
It took the group a while to digest his words, but soon after, they began nodding. One, then another, until it moved through most of them.
"So... when do we start?" A teenage boy near the edge asked. He was holding together better than most of the adults. There was something else in his voice too — something that didn't quite fit the situation.
Excitement.
Julius looked at the boy for a moment. Then sighed.
"We know too little. It'll be safer if we navigate this place under sunlight." Julius lowered himself, sitting cross-legged in the field. "We should use this time to steel our minds."
Everyone seemed to agree with his reasoning.
"At dawn. We begin at dawn."