Tucking the notebook under his sweater, Miles figured he'd do best to return to the camp. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but it had taken him several hours to get to the barrier; meaning it'd take several more hours to get back. And he didn't want to risk getting trapped when the sun was going down.

It was pointless looking for Kera now. If she wasn't at the boundary, screaming for help, then where could she have been? Miles hadn't thought things through thoroughly enough, and with Ms. Moreno's book in tow, he decided he'd be better off studying her notes first, then going after Kera. If Kera was still alive.

This was her choice. I enabled it, but for now, she'll need to remain on her own.

In any case, if she was dead or transformed into one of the beasts she'd been running from, there'd be nothing he could do.

On his way, he peered through the leaves and searched hollow trunks and big bushes—on instinct, though he'd told himself he'd stop looking for her. And with every time he didn't locate her, he hoped she'd found shelter and was protecting herself. He didn't remember if she'd had a weapon with her, or if she'd been wounded. But it'd be up to her to figure her shit out until he could come find her.

Hours passed, and he finally reached the bottom of the cliff. He was sweating profusely, but refusing to take off his sweater, because then he'd have nowhere to hide the notebook. And no one could see the notebook, not until he'd absorbed every detail concealed within, not until he knew what Ms. Moreno had found out and what she'd been up to.

He gazed at the stairs in the distance to his right, but a breeze nudged at his cheek, prompting him to peer towards the beach to his left, around the other side of the cliff.

He froze—was this wind the island's way of advising him not to go back to camp, but to head towards the poisoned water, instead? Was it the ruler, guiding him in a different direction? Or some other being with benevolent intentions that was trying to help him?

Is there such a thing as benevolent beings on this fucked up place?

Or was the universe giving him a sign—was Kera over there?

He'd earlier thought that maybe she'd gone to the cave. Now, as he thought of it again, imagining her in there in front of a small fire, rubbing her hands together for warmth—it made sense.

"Smart," he said, repressing a chuckle. "Because it'd be the last place the gods and the ruler would search for her, since it's basically the source of all their power, right? If that's where she is," he smirked, "then good. Stay there, Kera. Stay there until I can come to you."

He prayed the ruler hadn't overheard him and wouldn't race to the cavern to check if Kera was there.

Up the stairs, his legs aching from all the walking, Miles kept hold of the machete while ensuring the notebook was secure, half-tucked into the waistband of his pants. With everyone getting so touchy, he feared someone would try to hug him or press their hands to his chest and feel the hardness there, so he'd opted to stuff the book farther under his clothes, directly against his skin. The rubbery, broken sensation of the cover rubbed against his torso, and he grimaced as he emerged at the camp to witness everyone gathered around the fire.

Jessa looked up first, spotting him. "Miles." She got to her feet and stormed over to him, her eyes wide, watery—and bright purple.

Shit.

She didn't touch him, at least, not where it mattered; she chose to grab his shoulders and pull him close as she sniffed at him. As if he were a walking piece of meat, a morsel she'd been dying to get her hands on.

He clenched his jaw and his abdominal muscles, waiting for her inspection to pass.

She let go of him and backed away, frowning. "No food?" Before he could reply, she snatched the machete from his grasp and sniffled at it. "Hm," she licked it, directly over the dried blood stains, "nope, this is old. You got nothing?"

Miles sighed. "Nothing was out there. The forest is empty." It was a half-truth, but he hoped it'd be enough for Jessa, or the ruler, or whoever she was now. "Spotted a fox, but he ran off too quickly."

"Fox." Jessa dropped the machete, letting it clang onto the ground. "We were hoping you'd bring some meat. Deer, or something big like that. There are some out there, obviously. And you've been gone for a while, so we waited. And waited."

"Why?" Miles bunched his eyebrows and glared at her. "Don't you all know how to hunt? I said I was exploring, and I never said when I'd be back. Is that not allowed?"

Jessa's eyes twitched, one after the other. "Of course it's allowed." One hand balled into a fist, the other slid up to her hip. "But I thought... I thought you'd listened to me. You're important to them, remember?" She snuck closer to him and lowered her voice. "They were counting on you. The gods and the group."

Miles almost blurted out that everyone had fucking food in their cabins, so why did it matter if he'd gone out and scrounged up some meat for them? But he sealed his lips shut. The person speaking to him wasn't the usual Jessa, and she wasn't quite the ruler, either. Whatever being she was, he didn't think she'd appreciate him yelling at her.

"You truly saw nothing but a fox?" The disappointment in her timbre reminded him of the real Jessa; that same sadness as when he'd told her they weren't going to be bunking together.

"Yeah, though I'm sure some of those predator monsters were on the outlines, watching me. But I doubt you wanted to eat them, did you?" He wrinkled his nostrils. "They're technically human. Even if one of them had shown itself and been easily targeted, I wouldn't have brought it here."

Jessa scoffed, then turned away from him, returning to the fire-pit. "Food is food."

Miles' jaw dropped, but he hurried to shove it back up, unwilling to reveal his shock. He shouldn't have been shocked at all; he'd seen Jessa and Vick nearly eat each other up the night before. Who was to say these gods didn't provoke a sort of cannibalism in their captives?

But to munch on human monster meat? Ew. No, thanks. I'd rather starve.

Vick stood up to greet Jessa as she arrived, with Miles following. "Nothing?"

Jessa shook her head. "He probably didn't know where to look. We should have made sure someone went with him, or followed him."

After embracing Jessa, Vick scowled at Miles. "We were counting on you, dude. And you took so long."

Sick of hearing reproaches, Miles snorted. "I never said I was going out to catch us breakfast, or lunch, or whatever. And I didn't realize I needed to inform you when I'd be back. Isn't this place supposed to be about freedom and doing whatever the fuck want?"

"We're a team," said Vick, snarling. "We keep each other updated and help each other out. Then we do whatever we want."

When we're not clawing at each other's chests, you mean?

Miles snarled right back. "Funny you of all people should mention that." He didn't expect anyone but Vick to understand that comment. Vick, who was by nature a selfish, solitary guy who gave no shits about anyone but himself; and here he was, scolding Miles for not catching them a deer or a handful of rabbits to eat? Were there even deer or rabbits on this wretched island? Jessa claimed yes, but Miles had yet to see the proof of that, aside from when an animal roasted over the fire. He hadn't seen it when it was caught, before it was skinned—it could have been anything.

A sour taste grew in his mouth—had he eaten human monster? Was that what the meat cooking over the firepit had been?

Vick chose not to pull Miles' comment apart, thankfully, and walked past him, shoving him with his elbow. "Fine, I'll take care of it." He stomped off, mumbling about finding something more suitable to wear to hunt in.

Lorenzo and Taryn were there, both silently staring into the flames, not interfering. Patrek had resurfaced—where the hell had he been all this time?—and was also avoiding the confrontation, nestling a cup of something steaming right under his nose.

With Vick gone, Jessa's focus shifted back to Miles. She eyed him warily, and her skin started to glow violet, radiating with energy. "Disappointing," she hissed, as she proceeded to circle him, like he was her prey, the real meat she'd wanted to eat.

"Sorry," said Miles, moving out of her radius and settling on the closest log, to stretch out his legs. "I never made any promises, nor did I say I'd become what you and your gods want me to be."

Jessa kneeled in front of him and grabbed his knees, squeezing them, forcing him to look into her violent violet eyes. "You don't know what the gods want you to be, so of course you can't become it yet. But you had potential. Returning empty-handed... that's a red flag."

Miles knew he needed to proceed with caution, to not reveal a single slither of his doubts. If he did, he was as good as dead. He'd become the meat, and they'd hang his body over the fire to burn it to a tasty crisp. Then feast on him.

He held in a gag. "Look, I'm sorry. I mean it. It's not easy out here, and I've never hunted before. And I should have told you I was only exploring, should have better specified that." He wrung his hands, dipping his chin. "Don't give up on me yet."

Jessa seized his chin and lifted it. Her eyes were like lightning storms, now, and purple veins pulsated over her face, from her forehead to her jaw-line. "I haven't. We haven't." Her voice morphed, sounding like three female voices overlapping. Robotic, magical—she wasn't Jessa anymore, at all.

As if reading his thoughts—and by this point, he figured she definitely could—Jessa offered a sinister smile as she returned her hands to Miles' knees, cupping them, massaging them. She applied pressure, as if about to part them like the Red Sea. "Yes, Miles. I know you suspected it before, and I sense the suspicion in you growing stronger. Yes, you're correct. I'm becoming the ruler." She spoke low, ensuring only Miles was listening. It didn't appear that Lorenzo, Taryn, or Patrek were paying attention; if they were, they were good about pretending not to.

"Becoming the ruler?" Miles understood her perfectly, but he feigned not knowing, to see how much she'd be willing to tell him, to spell out for him. How important was he if she didn't confide in him more?

The more I know about her and her connection with the ruler, the closer I'll be to figuring out how to get to her, how to force her to let us out.

Her grin grew wider, tearing on the sides of her face. "I feel her in me. Filling every cavity, swirling around in my blood. It's like she's healing me, perfecting me from the inside." The voice was Jessa's, but it was dark, drenched in malice. More iridescent veins shot up and down her arms, and her hands were eerily warm as they continued to knead Miles' knees.

"So you're happy about it? About giving your body up to the ruler?" Miles scrutinized her features, trying to dig underneath the facade of purple, of glowing white, of toxicity. "Didn't you hate it when she possessed you, before? It left you weak and close to death. Seizures, drooling, foaming at the mouth, the works. You changed your mind?"

Jessa's nails now dug into his pants, hard into the skin around his knees. "I hated it when she got out of me. But when she was inside me—oh, the power I felt! The strength. The ability to do just about anything without consequence, and to be young and beautiful forever. That's what'll happen, see. When she takes over completely, I'll be immortal. Forever appearing like this," she gestured at her breasts, hanging out of her low-cut top, "and persuasive with my body."

He wanted to ask her if she'd been possessed the night before, while fucking Vick. While clawing at his flesh, drinking his blood. Was that something she, Jessa, had wanted to do? A deeply repressed desire? Or was the ruler in her, making her do it, in some sadistic ritual to further take control of her body?

Whatever it had been, her energy was rubbing off on Vick. He was a drooling mess of an imbecile, obeying her every command, worshiping the ground she walked on. Vick didn't worship anyone but himself, yet two kisses and a boob touch from Jessa, and he was transformed.

Was he possessed, too? How many people could the ruler possess at once?

"But it's your body, Jessa. You don't have to let her in, do you?" From the corner of his eye, Miles saw Vick returning. He wondered if Jessa would go back to normal in his presence, or if she'd shown herself like this in front of him. Did he have any idea what she was going through? And did he care?

Does he know he might be fucking the ruler?

Jessa caught Miles' gaze towards Vick, and she released his knees as she straightened up. "I don't have to let her in, no. But I want to." She brushed herself off, and sure enough, her skin reverted to its normal pale hue, sans the purple veins and purple glow to it.

So she doesn't let Vick see that she's letting the ruler take over, for good?

"The ruler finds my body hospitable, and she wants to keep it. Her bargain was..." Jessa licked her lips and seemed to be holding in a smirk, "appealing. I'm not at liberty to share it, but she made it worth my while. And the whole being immortal thing isn't a bad deal either, is it?"

Vick was getting closer, but too busy fussing with a gun and its holder to notice Jessa and Miles in deep discussion.

"You'd give your soul up, your entire life, for immortality?" Miles shook his head. "Iffy, I'd say. I'm not sure you're making the right choice, Jessa."

Jessa unleashed that smirk, but it was vile, menacing. Like a snide smile before she opted to sink her teeth into his face and rip his flesh off. "You're not the one making the decision. I am. She is." She glanced sideways at Vick, approaching them while muttering who-knew-what to himself. "It's a transition, a process, so it'll take some time as she fills me up slowly. But know that she's always," she jammed a finger to her heart, "in here. Always."

Miles got the message loud and clear—the ruler was confining herself to Jessa's body, which meant she wasn't hovering at all times like he and Patrek had suspected. So why was Jessa telling him this? To warn him? To scare him?

Or to help him?

"Fill you up?" Vick arrived and grabbed Jessa's ass-cheek, squeezing it. "What's filling you up? I want to fill you up, right now." He sheathed his gun in its holder and yanked her against him, shoving his tongue down her throat.

The slurping and groaning was enough for Miles, so he snuck away from them, leaving them to their sexual business. He meandered over to Patrek, who was doing anything but look at them, or even pretending to be a part of the group. He was slouched, holding on to his cup—which Miles now detected as strong liquor in an herbal brew—his facial muscles spasming.

"Hey," Miles nudged him out of his reverie, "did you hear any of that?"

Patrek's cheeks turned red. "All of it." He then paled almost immediately and took a large swig of his beverage.

"Can I," Miles motioned at the cup, "have some of that?"

Patrek laughed, swallowing his gulp as he handed the drink to Miles. "It's intense, fair warning. I don't know what kind of liquor it is, but it's something I've never tasted before. Might fuck you up."

With a grunt, Miles brought the cup's rim to his lips. "Don't care." He sighted Jessa and Vick sucking face, groping at one another in full daylight, looking ready to throw down and consummate their lust right there on the grassy ground. "I fucking need it."