The group stood there—paralyzed. Silence gripped the air, thicker than before. The weight of false hope came crashing down on them as they stared at the thick iron chains clamped around the glowing exit door like a cruel joke.
A large, rusted padlock dangled at the center, mocking their suffering.
Victor's heart dropped as his eyes scanned the door. "No… No, no, no!" he muttered, and then suddenly sprinted toward it. The others flinched at the sound of the metal shaking violently.
"Get off! Get off!!" Victor's voice cracked with desperation as he gripped the chains and tugged on them like a madman. "This is wrong—it shouldn't be here! This wasn't… this wasn't in the damn rulebook!" His breathing became erratic as he turned around, eyes searching, demanding answers.
He looked to Samuel. "THERE WAS NOTHING—NOTHING IN THE RULEBOOK ABOUT THIS RIGHT?!!"
Samuel took a step forward, lips slightly parted, brows furrowed in frustration. "No… there wasn't. There was nothing about a lock."
Callen stepped up slowly, eyes moving between the group and the chained door. "Wait… so… are you saying the key must be somewhere inside the prison? Somewhere in those endless corridors?"
Victor didn't answer. His hands still gripped the chains, rattling them as if brute strength alone could solve this puzzle.
Lawren's voice came next, uneasy. "Did we… did we just miss it? Like in the chaos earlier—maybe it was in a cell or near the warden's lair?"
"No," Sierra whispered under her breath.
The others turned to her.
Her eyes glistened again, but this time they weren't just sad—they were tired. "You're saying we have to go back in there…?"
Owen shook his head slowly, baffled. "Where would it even be? There are hundreds of cells, hallways, even hidden areas… it could be anywhere." His voice faded into a mutter, as if he was starting to convince himself of the impossibility.
Victor turned back to face them. His voice trembled as he tried to stay composed. "This… this isn't how it was supposed to be. I studied everything. Every single detail. The phase layout. The inscription… The door… the corridor… There was never a mention of any of this."
Victor bit his lip hard, trying to suppress a breakdown. "This door was our one way out... we were supposed to be free." He looked around, pleading. "I don't understand… Did something go wrong...?"
"Does it matter?" Owen asked, sounding hollow. "If the door's locked, then we're trapped. Either we find a key or we rot here."
"No…" Sierra's voice cracked. "No, no, no... we can't stay here…" She staggered toward the door and stood beside Victor. "WE LOST TOO MANY PEOPLE FOR THIS!! FOR THIS DAMN DOOR!!!" She kicked the chains with a hollow thud and screamed, "OPEN!! JUST FUCKING OPEN ALREADY!!"
Ava was quiet for a long while, eyes scanning the floor as her heart pounded. "Maybe… maybe this is punishment," she said softly.
They all turned to her.
She met their gaze with pained eyes. "For leaving Elliot. For not helping the others. For being too selfish to think about only our own survival... A Punishment for all of us… because we had given up too soon on them."
Samuel's face darkened, but he said nothing. Even he didn't have the will to refute her.
Victor finally let go of the chains and backed away. "I should've tried harder. I should've known there was a catch. I should've—" He stumbled back into the wall and slumped down. "I was so sure. And now look where that's gotten us…"
Victor continued as he chuckled bitterly. "Because I opened my big mouth and gave everyone hope when I didn't even have all the answers."
"You tried," Lawren said. "You saved us from getting trapped deeper."
"Did I?" Victor's voice was quiet now. "Or did I just delay the inevitable?"
Evelyn slowly sat down on the floor. "Maybe the key wasn't meant to be found easily. Maybe we were meant to search together. To survive longer."
"Or maybe," Callen added, "we weren't supposed to survive at all."
The silence returned like a dense fog, settling heavy in the chest.
Sierra dropped to her knees beside Evelyn, both of them facing the locked door. "I don't want to go back in there," she admitted. "I can't. I can't see any more bodies. Or hear those whispers again. Or feel that… dread."
Owen crouched near them. "None of us want to, Sierra. But what choice do we have?"
Ava was staring at the floor, eyes unfocused. "I just wanted to see the sun again," she muttered.
Victor ran his hands through his hair, pacing slowly. "There has to be a clue. A message. Something hidden."
Owen continued, his voice hollow, as if each word cost him something to say. "We have no choice… but to go back."
Victor looked at him like he'd heard a curse. "Back? Into that hell?"
Owen didn't look at him—his eyes were low, his hands clenched. "I don't want that either. God, I really don't. But what else is there? If there's any chance that key exists… we either find it, or we die here."
Victor opened his mouth, but no argument came. Owen was right. As awful as it sounded, they all knew it. Even if they hated it.
Sierra took a step back, shaking her head rapidly. "No… no, I can't. I can't go back in there. You all saw what it did to us. You saw what happened to Jace! To Riley! To Noa!"
Evelyn sat down beside her, her eyes rimmed red, her body slouched like the weight of the whole phase was sitting on her shoulders. "She's not wrong… I don't want to go back either. I'm terrified."
There was a long silence—until Owen slowly walked over and crouched in front of them.
"I know," he said, voice almost a whisper. "Believe me, I know. Every part of me is telling me to run the other way. To just sit here and wait for someone else to figure it out. But… that's not how this works."
Evelyn looked up at him, eyes swimming. "Then why you? Why do you have to be the one talking like this?"
Owen hesitated, then offered a broken smile. "Because everyone else already gave enough. Riley's gone. Noa is gone, Jace is gone. I'm not going to let that be for nothing. I'll be damned if I let it all end here because I was too scared to move."
Evelyn's lip trembled. "But what if we go back in and we don't come back either?"
Owen said. "We stick together. We don't panic this time. We move smart, fast, and we get out. We owe them that much. Don't we?"
Sierra still didn't move. Her arms wrapped around her knees, and she buried her face into them, breathing unevenly. "I don't think I can… I don't think I can do this again."
"You don't have to right away," Evelyn said softly, reaching over and putting a hand on Sierra's shoulder.
"Take a minute. But if there's even a tiny part of you that still wants to live, that still wants to get out of here… we need you." Owen said his voice gentle and calm like he was trying to convince her.
Evelyn stood slowly, her legs shaking but her spine straight. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her tattered shirt and looked over at Owen. "I'm with you."
Owen nodded, a spark of something in his tired eyes—respect, maybe. Gratitude.
Sierra didn't look up. Not yet.
But the others did.
Victor exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair still in despair and disbelief of all of this tried to get everything he had together again. "Then we gear up. We regroup. We do this together. Every hallway, every corner. We don't leave until we find that key."
Callen glanced back at the chain-bound exit, bitterness in his voice. "We were so close…"
Lawren answered quietly. "We still are. We just need to take a few more steps."
While the others spoke—arguing, grieving, rallying—Samuel stood still.
He didn't say a word.
Didn't move.
Didn't even blink.
His eyes were fixed on the lock.
A single bead of sweat traced the side of his face, sliding down his cheek like time itself slowing to a crawl. But his mind was anything but slow.
It was chaos. A storm. A bullet train on fire and off the rails.
The voices of the group—Owen's tired plea, Victor's hollow despair, Evelyn's reluctant resolve—blurred into a background hum. Words reached his ears but never touched his thoughts.
He was elsewhere.
"There's a lock."
His mind snapped to it.
"Which means there's a key."
"This is a prison. It's all been a prison. A phase based on containment… punishment."
He could see it now. The patterns, the walls, the structure of it all.
"We entered the phase, We saw the Cell. The one with the skeleton… Victor opened it… He said something changed every time, No other cells had a skeleton inside them, only that one. So it made sense."
A mechanic. A system.
"A checkpoint. Just like a game. Something shifts there. A signal. A rule."
"If nothing changes, go forward to the exit. If something changes, return back to where you came from."
"It's the only room that made sense in this madness."
Samuel's jaw clenched, eyes twitching as thoughts collided, meshed, and disassembled again.
"Fear."
"That's what makes this place worse."
"The more we fear, the more the Warden becomes a monster."
He swallowed, gaze glued to the iron lock.
"This isn't just a prison. It's a fear test. A game of nerves. A mental challenge wearing the mask of a horror show."
"So the key…"
"Where would the key be in a game like this?"
"That cell… the checkpoint."
"That's the only room that always gives us something new. A clue. A shift. A reason."
He nodded to himself, slightly, rapidly, almost feverishly.
"That's it. That has to be it."
But a crack of doubt shot through the logic.
"We already searched it, didn't we?"
"We didn't find a key."
His brows furrowed deeper.
"Or was it not visible yet? Or did we overlook something?"
"No, we checked everything… didn't we?"
"Unless..."
A new, disturbing thought struck him like a slap.
"What if the key… isn't a key?"
His stomach turned. He remembered the Warden's side pocket.
"He kept the victim's head's in there."
"Wait… no. No, no, no—that's not it."
He shook his head slightly, breathing tightening.
He looked at the lock again. Closer this time. Like it might whisper secrets if he stared hard enough.
"This whole prison revolves around that one Cellblock"
"It starts there. It loops there. It ends there."
His heart pounded as something snapped together in his brain like pieces of a shattered mirror reforming.
"The Cellblock isn't just a checkpoint—it's the core mechanic. The hub. The code behind the curtain."
"If the key exists, it exists there. It has to."
He took a step back, eyes still locked in horror at the metal clasp like it had just opened its mouth and spoken to him.
The sweat was rolling now.
He turned his gaze to Victor—haunted, sharp, wild.
And for a second, it looked like Samuel had just seen a ghost.
Because maybe... he had.
Not in the hallway.
Not in the cellblock.
Not in the prison.
But in his own mind.
And then—
one last thought.
One stray, unwanted whisper at the edge of his consciousness.
"But what if the cellblock doesn't have the key..."
A pause.
A breath held too long.
"Then the Warden must have it."
Like a blade of ice slid down his spine, the thought struck him in full.
His stomach twisted.
His blood ran cold.
The Warden—towering, silent, always just out of reach.
Always watching.
Always hunting.
And now, in Samuel's mind, the pieces moved again.
Not a guardian.
Not a tormentor.
A gatekeeper.
"He's here to guard the key."
His pupils shrank. His breath caught in his throat.
Samuel was afraid.
Not of the dark.
Not of the screams.
But of the answer he'd found.
And the price they'd have to pay to claim it.
Victor looked to Samuel now. "You lead the way. You know how to move. I'll stay close."
Victor looked over and noticed Samuel hadn't moved in minutes.
"Samuel?" he called.
No response.
Victor took a cautious step forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a slight shake. "Hey—Samuel?"
That was when Samuel finally blinked. He flinched as if waking from a nightmare, and his head snapped toward Victor, eyes wide like he'd just seen death standing behind him.
Victor froze. "…You good?"
Owen, watching from the side, took a step closer, his voice low and uncertain. "Samuel? Are you okay?"
Everyone had fallen quiet again.
Samuel didn't answer. Not immediately. His eyes darted between their faces, staying on Owen for a moment longer than necessary. Sweat traced a line from his temple down to his jaw, his chest rising and falling just slightly faster than before.
Then finally… he exhaled.
"Yeah… yeah, I'm fine," he said quietly, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt.
"But—" he paused, dragging a hand down his cheek again, trying to ground himself. "I think I know something."
That got everyone's attention.
Callen leaned forward. "What is it?"
Sierra looked between the others. "Samuel…?"
Even Evelyn, who had barely found the strength to stand a moment ago, straightened with alertness.
Samuel didn't answer right away.
He looked down. Then up. Then closed his eyes like he was preparing to walk into fire.
"This changes a lot," he muttered.
Victor tilted his head, frowning. "What do you mean?"
Samuel opened his eyes and looked at all of them.
And said nothing.
Not yet.
Instead, he wiped both palms against his jeans, his heartbeat thudding in his ears louder than anything else in the room.
Because he knew—whatever came next wasn't going to be easy.