The teens doesn't know what to make of it. Keith should be gone. But why Mother is doing this. Is this one step too far. Is this really the cruelest thing their horrible captor has ever done. And SEED...they know. They did this for some reason. But as the teens scramble to piece together what just happened the past few minutes, they at least try to have a conversation the first time in many days. As Sam stands still, Austin heads over to a nearby wall to lean back trying to rub his head. Henry wants to walk back to the desk that has given him so much comfort but is unable to move. Maddie sits down to the far end of the couch—her favorite spot—as she bends her head down, shivering from those words. Lynne stands near the corner of the wall, trying to find some anchor to hold on to.

"Why they had to do this to Keith?" Maddie slowly speaks, her voice trembling.

"I don't know..." Sam tries to make sense of it but she plumps herself on the couch, trying to wipe away the tears. "I just don't know."

"They gone too far!" Austin yells, "That's what I know."

"You probably had a hand." Sam ponders.

"Really?" Austin stares at her with a disgust. His hazel eyes glowering at her with a slight fury.

"Yes really." Sam looks to him with detestation.

"Guys," Lynne tries to stay calm though nervous, shaking after what just happened. "I'm starting...to...to think, one of you killed him."

"Not me!" Henry stands back, his hands wave innocently. "You guys are already blaming me."

"And what if it is you?" Austin looks to him.

"It's NOT ME!" Henry yells back. He turns to Maddie. "Maddie likes hurting people."

"You're mad." Maddie mumbles.

"Is he wrong though?" Lynne looks to her.

"Yes," Maddie finally admits, "I hurt myself. I hurt my friend Neil. Doesn't make me a killer." She then turns, her tone shifts from panic to anger. "Austin, stands there so perfect, and he's not doing anything."

"Excuse me?!" Austin gazes at her with a stunned reaction.

"I mean, you backstabbed Lynne. Why should we trust you. You may have killed Keith."

"Over my dead body!" Austin states.

"Keith's body?!" Sam interjects with a sly snarky jab.

Austin turns to her. "That's cute."

"Can we just talk about something else?" Henry ponders. "Something positive?"

"What's positive?" Austin questions. "Among you guys?" He scolds it off as he begins to walk back towards his room. "Whatever." He disses the idea.

Lynne begins to move away from the counter and walk back to her room. Henry looks to her a bit upset. Maddie already upset they are pounding on her decides to retreat to her room as well. Henry notices each of them, ignoring the idea of them sharing something positive. They haven't done anything positive in days. The paranoid delusions and the insidious thoughts have shattered whatever peaceful attempt they want to show to the public.

Henry turns to Sam who still sits alone in the couch. He wants to say something to her. A strange bubbling feeling that isn't anger or dissonance. It's something different. Before he can try to usher one syllable to her, Sam is already leaning horizontally, taking a nap. Henry leans close to her and just watches her. Sam about to close her eyes notices the strange glare of Henry's.

"You want to say something?" Sam asks.

Henry wants to but doesn't. He just shakes his head. Sam slowly nods and begins to take her nap, seeking to find that elusive sleep she has been robbed. Henry lets her dose as he seeks his true solace...the computer.

He gets back on the laptop. His fingers hover over the keyboard, as he notices a ping coming from the email page. Hoping it's his friend. He looks on to discover Elijah has sent him a message.

Subject: Hang on with Love

Alright Data, I'm glad you're still there. You had me worried from your last message. Now that I know, trust me the outsiders are confident in getting this done, breaking these flaming bricks, and disrupting the corrupt systems. I have something to ease you. As you know, we have used Star Trek codenames as a means of trust for one another. And I love being Spock, as you know, there can't be a Spock without a Kirk. My Kirk was someone dear to me. My blood, my kin. His name was Alonzo, four years older than me. He protected me so much, and I appreciated that. He too like me and McCoy are outsiders, the system disruptors, those would alter the corrupt. And nothing meant more than exposing the bad seeds and spit them out of everyone's' lives.

Yet a few months ago, my dad had a "very bad" car crash. I lost him. Me and Alonzo were trying to find those bad seeds, so much Alonzo had to become someone else to expose the corrupted gardeners. However, he never came back. I always fear what happened to my pops, happened to Alonzo. So the outsiders are not just trying to set you free, the outsiders are doing much more than that. So breaking those tough flaming bricks are crucial. I'm confident these bad seeds will be gone. And the best way to honor my loss is to free you and the others. So hang on, believe you can get through whatever they are doing to you guys. Don't let them win. You are in control. Your thoughts. Your body. Remember that.

– Spock out

Henry leans back and thinks about those last words Elijah sent him. "Don't let them win. You are in control. Your thoughts. Your body. Remember that." Henry starts to understand Elijah's drive much further. He wants to believe, he wants to fight back. Yet how much can he take. As much as these bad thoughts have made him believe they want him to hurt himself and cave and confess to be someone he's not, Henry has to do what Elijah wants him to do, to hang on and remember he's control of himself. For the first time in days, Henry feels a flicker of something he'd almost forgotten—hope. But it's fleeting, overshadowed by the cluster of sinister whispers clawing their way back into his mind.

"You killed Keith!" The insidious echo spews.

Each voice distinct yet warped into a chorus of venom. Henry's stomach churns, the nausea rising. Clamping his eyes shut, he forces himself to take slow breaths and musters on.

***

Lynne lingers near the kitchen, her hands twitching as if desperate for something to do. She continues to rummage the pantry and fridge, trying to make a group meal with whatever ingredients that are left remain.

"This is ridiculous." Lynne whispers frustrated.

"Look sharp." Sam's crisp tone cuts the troublesome lull as she finished her short nap a hour ago.

Henry's gaze darts up to see her standing near the Gathering Zone, her expression hard yet hollow. The others emerge reluctantly, their movements sluggish, shadows of the people they were just days ago. Maddie shuffles out of her room, her makeshift bandage poorly concealing the faint red seeping through the fabric. Austin trails behind, his jaw tight, his movements stiff, as though he's forcing himself to play along.

And then they see it. The red light on Mother's central camera lens flickers to life, bathing the room in an eerie glow. It pulses like a heartbeat, steady and unrelenting.

"Aww, my children," Mother begins, her tone syrupy sweet, "how lovely to see you all together again. Did you guys appreciated Keith's memorial? I did. The killer probably didn't."

No one answers. The silence hangs heavy in the air. Mother chuckles softly, a sound that sends shivers through every spine.

"Sam," She coos, her voice laced with mockery, "you've been staring at me quite a bit lately. It's flattering, really. Do you have something you'd like to share with the nation?"

Sam's glare is as sharp as a blade. "Not interested," she spits, her voice low but firm.

Mother's laughter rises, mechanical and grating. "Oh, Sam, I would reconsider that attitude if I were you. After all, the nation's opinion will play a pivotal role in the finale. Don't you want to stay alive?"

Sam doesn't respond. Her hands clench into fists, her knuckles white.

"That's what I thought," Mother purrs, her tone shifting to one of smug satisfaction. "Now, as I mentioned earlier, it's time to address your trust issues. I hope you've been working on them because it's time for another challenge. This once will test that fragile bond you claim to have. It's quite poetic, really."

The teens exchange wary glances. Even Lynne, who'd been avoiding eye contact with anyone, lifts her gaze, her fear mirrored in Maddie's wide, tear-streaked eyes.

"The nation is eager for drama...for something new," Mother continues. "And I aim to please. This next challenge is... collaborative." She pauses for dramatic effect, letting the word hang ominously in the air. "A team challenge. I call it... Ungrouped."

Lynne blurts out, "I like it." Her voice trembles, and her words seem involuntary, a knee-jerk reaction to the unbearable silence.

Everyone stares at her.

Her cheeks flush, and she quickly looks away, muttering, "I don't know why I said that."

Mother's laugh is sharp, mocking. "How delightful. Let's see if you still like it by the end."

Sam's voice cuts through the tension. "What do you mean by collaborative?"

"Patience, my dear," Mother croons. "I'll explain. Each team will face two distinct trials—one physical, one emotional. One of you will endure physical pain, while the other must face emotional torment. A true test of trust and resilience. And the prize?" She pauses, as if savoring the suspense. "The winners will receive medical supplies and food rations."

The room shifts. Sam's jaw tightens, Lynne's eyes widen, Austin's fists clench, and Maddie lets out a soft whimper, clutching her injured arm. Henry's stomach churns anew, but this time it's not from the nausea.

"But what about the losers?" Austin's voice is harsh, cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Oh, they'll simply go without," Mother replies casually. "Unless the winners choose to share. How generous of them that would be, don't you think?"

"This is sick," Maddie whispers, her voice barely audible.

"Oh, it gets better," Mother quips, her tone gleeful. "There will be two teams of two. Simple enough, yes? But here's the twist: one of you will not participate. One of you will be left behind. And they will receive... nothing. No medical supplies. No food rations."

"What?!" Sam's voice is sharp, her eyes blazing.

"You heard me," Mother purrs. "But don't worry, I'm not heartless. I won't choose who gets left behind. The nation won't decide either. No, my darlings, that decision falls to you."

The room erupts. Lynne's voice rises in panic, Austin's shouts are laced with anger, and Maddie's cries are choked with fear. Henry backs away, his face pale, his hands trembling. Sam stands still, her body rigid, her mind racing.

Mother's laughter cuts through the chaos. "Oh, this is going to be delightful. Good luck, children. Make your choice wisely." And with that, her red light fades, plunging the room into a suffocating silence.

The teens stare at one another, their breathing heavy, their eyes darting with suspicion and apprehension. The weight of the decision looms over them, dreary and inescapable. None of them speak, but the unexpressed words hang in the air.

Who will they leave behind?