Haven felt different now.

  The music still played. The laughter still echoed. But to Nero, Amira, and Badong, it all felt wrong.

  The night of the overdose had peeled back the illusion of safety, and the days that followed only made it worse.

  "I don't like this place," Amira whispered as they sat in the corner of a makeshift cafeteria.

  Nero glanced around. People were different now. Some looked sick, their movements sluggish, their faces pale. Others carried themselves with too much confidence—not the kind that came from surviving, but the kind that came from power.

  Badong chewed on a piece of stale bread, arms crossed. "We should leave."

  "We should've left the moment that guy died," Nero muttered.

  But leaving wasn't as simple as walking out.

  Kali was too welcoming.

  Too watchful.

  Every time Nero or the others brought up the idea of moving on, Kali would smile and change the subject. When Badong asked directly, Kali just laughed and said, "Come on, man. Where else would you go?"

  And the worst part?

  Haven wasn't just full of drugs.

  It was full of guns.

  They first noticed it when one of the survivors—a wiry man named Olan—got into a fight over food. It should've ended in shouting and punches. Instead, Olan pulled out a pistol.

  And nobody reacted.

  Nero had frozen, staring at the gun, but the rest of Haven barely blinked. Olan didn't shoot, but the message was clear.

  People here weren't just partying to cope.

  They were armed.

  It explained the confidence. The lack of fear. The feeling that leaving might not be an option.

  "We have to go," Amira said again, her voice almost desperate.

  Nero agreed. But the real question was:

  Would Kali let them?

  Amira's skin prickled as she walked down the dimly lit hallway of Haven's main building. The walls were cracked, the floors sticky from spilled drinks and God-knows-what-else. The sound of distant music still played, muffled through the walls, but it didn't feel like a party anymore.

  It felt like a prison.

  She had to get away. She needed air.

  She had spent the past few days constantly looking over her shoulder, feeling watched. Baron was here. The man who had ruined her childhood.

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  He had barely looked at her since they arrived, and at first, she thought maybe he didn't recognize her. It had been years. He had grown thinner, his face more sunken, his once-neat hair now a mess.

  But then, last night, she had seen the way he stared at her from across the room.

  She knew that look.

  Her stomach churned as she stepped outside, breathing in the cold night air. The streets of Haven were quiet, most people passed out from drinking or drug use. The festive lights flickered, and for a moment, it almost looked like a real town.

  Too bad it's rotting from the inside.

  She stepped toward one of the abandoned buildings, needing space. But then—

  A shadow moved.

  Her heart stopped.

  Before she could react, a hand clamped over her mouth.

  She struggled, panic surging through her veins as she was dragged into the darkness of the alley. A foul breath touched her ear.

  "I finally found you, Amira."

  Her blood ran cold.

  She kicked, flailed—bit his hand. Baron cursed and loosened his grip just enough for her to rip away.

  "Get away from me!" she spat, stumbling backward.

  Baron stepped forward, grinning. "Come on, sweetheart. Don't be like that. We never got to finish what we started."

  Rage, fear, and disgust twisted inside her.

  She looked around, desperate for an escape, but they were alone. The rest of Haven was lost in their drug-fueled haze.

  "Help—"

  Before she could scream, he lunged.

  But then—

  He stopped.

  Baron froze mid-step, his eyes wide. His lips trembled, and suddenly, blood trickled from his mouth.

  Then he collapsed.

  Amira gasped, staggering backward. The scene before her was horrifying.

  Baron convulsed, his body seizing violently. Blood poured from his mouth, his nose, his eyes. His fingers twitched, grasping at nothing as his body betrayed him.

  Then, just as suddenly as it started—he went still.

  Dead.

  Amira stood there, her breathing ragged, heart pounding against her ribs.

  What the hell just happened?

  A chilling silence settled over her. Then—

  Another cough.

  She turned just in time to see another person collapse down the street.

  And another.

  And another.

  One by one, people were dropping dead.

  The music still played in the background, but now it felt mocking.

  The party was over.

  Something was very, very wrong.

  Amira's hands shook as she backed away from Baron's corpse. The smell of blood was thick in the air, an iron tang that clung to her throat. The distant party music mocked the silence, playing on as more bodies collapsed across Haven.

  "What… what the hell is happening?" she whispered.

  A door burst open from across the street.

  Nero and Badong came running, their faces etched with panic.

  "Amira!" Nero called. His eyes landed on Baron's lifeless body, then flicked up to her pale face. "What happened?"

  "He—he grabbed me," Amira stammered, still trembling. "And then… he just—"

  She motioned at the blood pooling beneath Baron's head.

  Badong took a step forward, surveying the street. More bodies littered the ground. Some people were still standing, swaying, clutching their throats, their mouths dripping red. Others were completely still.

  Nero turned, his stomach twisting. The people of Haven were dying.

  And no one knew why.

  Then a voice cut through the silence.

  "You should've told me sooner."

  The trio turned.

  Kali stood on the rooftop of a nearby building, looking down at them. His arms were crossed, his usual easygoing smirk gone. For the first time, he looked serious.

  "Kali," Badong said, stepping forward. "What the hell is going on?"

  Kali sighed. "It's the drugs."

  "What?" Nero demanded.

  Kali walked down the fire escape, his footsteps calm, deliberate. He didn't look the least bit surprised at the chaos around him. Instead, he looked almost bored.

  "You ever wonder where the drugs came from?" Kali asked, reaching the ground.

  Nero and Amira exchanged a look.

  "I thought… you just found them," Amira said.

  Kali chuckled, shaking his head. "Found them? Nah." He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it without a care in the world. "I made them."

  Silence.

  The weight of those words crashed into them.

  "You—what?" Nero breathed.

  Badong clenched his fists. "You knew this would happen?"

  Kali exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Did I? Maybe. Maybe not." He kicked a nearby corpse with his boot, watching the body slump lifelessly. "Either way, I had to test it. You don't make progress without risks, right?"

  Nero felt sick.

  He thought Kali was a genius, someone who had built something good in this wasteland. But this?

  This was monstrous.

  "What the hell did you put in them?" Nero demanded.

  Kali smirked. "Ever heard of the purple goo?"

  The words hit Nero like a gunshot.

  His breath caught in his throat. Images of that room flashed in his mind—the dark walls, the viscous purple substance dripping down like blood.

  His fingers curled into fists.

  "What the hell are you talking about?" Badong asked, stepping forward aggressively.

  Kali shrugged. "After the asteroid hit, people started finding this weird, flowing purple stuff. I thought, Why not experiment? I figured if it could kill some people but give others abilities, maybe I could control the outcome."

  Nero's heart pounded.

  "So you fed it to people?" Amira hissed, horror laced in her voice.

  Kali tilted his head, looking at her with mild amusement. "I didn't force anyone. People took it on their own. They wanted to forget. To feel good. And hey, most of them were fine. Until now."

  His expression darkened slightly as he looked around at the bodies. "I'll admit… I didn't expect the deaths to pile up this fast."

  Amira's stomach churned. "You're insane."

  Kali flicked his cigarette to the ground. "I prefer visionary."

  Badong took a threatening step forward. "You killed these people."

  Kali rolled his eyes. "I helped them survive. But sure, if you wanna put it that way, go ahead."

  Nero's hands trembled. His mind reeled with the implications.

  The purple goo.

  The drugs.

  The people who lived or died because of it.

  And that room he woke up in.

  It was all connected.

  He just didn't know how.

  "What now?" Kali asked, spreading his arms wide. "You gonna kill me? Run away? What's the plan, heroes?"

  Badong's knuckles were white. Amira's breathing was uneven.

  And Nero?

  Nero just stared at Kali, realization settling into his bones.

  Haven wasn't just dangerous.

  It was cursed.

  And they needed to get out—before they were next.