The orb flared, and the world screamed with light.
Raif staggered back, shielding his eyes with one arm. The sapphire glow blazed white-hot, threads of luminescence lashing across the ruined floor like lightning trapped in glass. It wasn't heat that forced him to his knees, it was pressure, dense and invisible, like the weight of the sky had slammed into his chest.
The air pulsed. The jungle had gone silent again.
Then came the sound, wet, heavy, fleshy.
Five bodies slammed into the cracked stone around the Core, each from different directions, as if hurled from different corners of space. One thudded into a pile of moss and didn't move. Another rolled and groaned, clutching their ribs. A third immediately pushed up on shaky legs and stumbled into a crouch.
The jungle responded. The mist swirled and rose, disturbed by their sudden arrivals. A clutch of glowing beetles lifted from a bush and vanished. One of the long vines shifted subtly, drawing back as though waiting to see who'd die first.
Raif didn't speak. Couldn't. He stared.
The light began to fade, leaving only the dull blue heartbeat of the orb in its original state. The pressure lifted.
All five were real. Human. Alive. Or at least, they looked it.
A bald, square-shouldered man in rough, muddy overalls swore and rolled to his feet, coughing. His face was lined and leathery, like a man who'd lived outdoors for fifty years. His eyes locked on Raif.
"Oi! You!" he barked, voice like gravel. "What the bloody hell did you just do?!"
Raif raised his hands, stepping back instinctively. His heart was hammering so hard it felt like it would crack his ribs. What have I done? he thought. What did I start?
Before he could reply, another voice, a woman's.
"Where the hell am I?!"
She stood already, compact and wiry, hair tied in a messy braid. She held a stick like a dagger, spinning in place. Her clothes looked scavenged, a patchwork of cloth, rope and dark leather.
A third figure, this one younger, blonde and tall, sat up slowly, shaking off dirt. He wore a simple work shirt, tucked in. Callused hands. A builder's frame.
The fourth, the one who'd landed in the moss, groaned and rolled over. She was thin, limbs trembling, hair falling in a curtain over her face. She didn't speak.
And the fifth, a slouched man with a scar across his jaw, coughed loudly and spat mud.
"Son of a bitch," he grunted. "That's the last time I follow a light into a goddamn forest."
Raif took another step back.
They were looking at him now.
All five.
Their eyes were wide with confusion, fear, and something worse... suspicion.
He opened his mouth, tried to explain, but no words came.
The builder stood fully. "Who are you?"
"I-I'm Raif," he said, his voice hoarse. "I just woke up here too. I didn't know what the orb would do. I didn't pick-"
"Bullshit," the woman snapped, pointing her makeshift weapon. "We didn't just fall here. You touched the stone. We saw it."
Raif tried to speak again, but her eyes were hard, calculating. He could feel the accusation settling like frost between them.
The scarred man chuckled bitterly, wiping his hands on muddy trousers.
"Well, isn't this just peachy? Some lunatic summons us out of the ground and we all wake up in the arse-end of nowhere."
The bald man, the first to speak, was scanning the trees now.
"Shut it, Goss. This isn't Earth. I can feel it."
"Yeah?" Goss said. "And what gave it away, Thomund? The creepy talking rock or the jungle that smells like it wants to eat us?"
"No birds," Thomund said, voice low. "Only insects. That means predators."
He turned to Raif.
"You're not lying, are you?"
Raif blinked. "I swear. I didn't choose you. I just… pressed the stone."
Thomund stared at him for a long moment, then gave a short nod.
"He's green. If this was planned, he'd have answers."
The woman lowered her stick slowly. "Name's Lira. That builder over there's Eloin. You've already met Goss."
Raif looked at the trembling girl who hadn't spoken.
"And her?"
No one answered.
She sat now, arms wrapped around her knees, eyes blank, unblinking. Her lips were pressed tight. A sheen of sweat ran down her brow. Raif's gut twisted, he didn't know her, but he knew that expression: someone trying not to break.
Lira tilted her head. "She hasn't said a word."
"Mute?" Raif asked.
"Or traumatised," Eloin said, finally speaking. His voice was measured, calm, but carried an edge. "Or both."
Raif crouched slowly, trying not to scare her.
"Hey," he said gently. "It's okay. You're safe. What's your name?"
No answer.
Just silence. Watching him.
"She's the fifth," Thomund said simply. "Every group has one."
Raif looked up at him. "What do you mean?"
Thomund didn't reply.
The orb pulsed softly behind them, as if it hadn't just changed all their lives.
Raif looked at the five strangers around him, some angry, some quiet, some calculating. He felt the weight of their stares, but also something deeper, a pull. Not from them. From the orb.
It was watching too.
A kingdom, the orb had said.
This was it.
The first five citizens.
And not a single one trusted him…
As the five strangers fanned out from where they'd landed, the ambient noise resumed, slow, cautious. Insects ticking like clock gears. Distant rustling that could've been wind or teeth. The orb pulsed faintly behind them, a reminder that the rules of this place were not theirs.
Raif stood in the centre, still half-crouched, still caught in the gravity of five stares. For a moment, no one spoke. The tension sat heavy, thicker than the humidity.
Lira broke the silence.
"You've got that look," she said, still gripping her stick, though now more loosely. "Like you're trying to remember how to lead without getting stabbed."
Raif tried to find his footing, social, emotional, literal.
"I'm trying to figure out if any of you are going to stab me."
Goss smirked. "Wouldn't be the worst idea. Might even be strategic."
"Shut up," Thomund said, low but firm. "He's green. You can smell it on him."
That phrase again... he's green. Raif didn't know what it meant, but the tone was universal. Untrained. Soft. Vulnerable.
Eloin brushed dirt from his sleeves and sat on a broken slab of stone. "Look, we're stuck in a twenty-metre clearing with a glowing rock, alien trees, and no food. We can interrogate each other or we can figure out what the hell's going on."
Lira narrowed her eyes but said nothing.
Raif glanced around. "You're not… like me, are you?"
That drew a pause.
Goss leaned against a scorched timber beam and gestured vaguely. "Define 'like you.' You mean human? Bipedal? Terrified?"
"I mean from… Earth. From now. I think I was in a city. I had a phone. Electricity. This place-" he gestured around, "-isn't right."
"I'm from Wessea," Thomund said flatly. "Last thing I remember, I was tracking elk."
"I'm from Marsden," Eloin added. "Worked infrastructure. We didn't have forests like this. We had droughts."
Lira didn't speak. Her silence said enough. Different lives. Different worlds, maybe.
Raif swallowed hard. "Okay. So we're not from the same place. That means someone brought us here."
"The orb," Goss said, pointing with a thumb. "Or the god behind it."
The word hung there... god. No one liked it.
Raif exhaled, scanning their faces. "We need to work together. At least long enough to not get eaten."
"Oh, inspirational," Goss muttered.
"Then maybe start by helping," Raif snapped, surprising himself. "I didn't ask for this either. But if I'm the one who summoned you, then that makes me… I don't know. Responsible. I'll take that. Just... let's try not to kill each other."
A pause. Then, slowly, Thomund nodded. Eloin gave a half shrug. Lira didn't lower her eyes, but she shifted her stance slightly, less confrontational, more curious.
Raif turned toward the silent girl. She still sat with her knees drawn up, arms wrapped tight, eyes flicking between them but never settling. She didn't blink much. Her breath was shallow.
"What about you?" he asked softly. "Anything you want us to call you?"
She didn't react.
Raif nodded to himself, then glanced back at the others. "Until she says otherwise, we'll call her…" He hesitated, not wanting to insult her.
"Naera," Eloin offered. "Means dusk light, in my dialect."
Raif looked at her. Her eyes moved. Just slightly. Toward Eloin.
Then back down.
"Naera," he repeated. "Okay."
The name settled between them like a fragile thread. Not trust. Not yet. But maybe the first stitch of something like it.
Thomund rose, dusting off his knees. "We'll need shelter before nightfall."
Lira nodded toward the tree line. "And weapons."
"Weapons for what?" Raif asked, frowning.
She looked at him like it was a stupid question. "For whatever's already watching us."
Raif glanced at the vines, the twitching leaves, the oddly quiet patches of jungle.
Right.
He looked at the stone beneath their feet, the ruin, the orb, the clearing that was now, by technicality, his kingdom.
"We should name this place," he said quietly.
Eloin raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
Raif stared at the stone slab. "Because if we don't name it, it's just a prison. If we do… it's something we own. Something we build."
A beat.
Lira smiled. Not kindly, but almost amused. "Fine, King Raif. You get one name. What'll it be?"
Raif looked up at the green sky. The mist. The ruin. The five strangers.
He said, "Kingdom of One."
No one laughed. Not even Goss.
And behind them, the orb pulsed again.
Waiting.