The voice continued:
"If over 60% of you identify the wildcard correctly, the wildcard will be eliminated. But if more than 60% of you are wrong... then those who guessed wrong will face the consequences."
But I swear, the tension now was worse than any trigger pull.
Zaara leaned toward . "What does that even an? A wildcard? Like a mole?"
"I guess so," I muttered, eyes scanning the others. "But soone in here is playing for the other side."
The next 72 hours would be nothing but whispers and paranoia.
A clock ticked to life on the wall—72:00:00 and counting down in red, bold digits.
Zaara turned to again. "This is insane. How are we supposed to know who it is?"
One of us.
The voice hadn’t said anything about soone being forced to do it. Which ant... whoever the wildcard was, they were willing. They chose to work with the Aetherions.
And now we had three fucking days to figure out who the hell that was.
My gaze swept across the room. I scanned the faces....every flinch, every glance, every twitch.
Could it be Theo?
Well, he has always been aggressive. His smirks never matched the situation. He moved like soone who already knew the answers before the question was asked.
Or Carter?
He’s ex-military. Strategist. Quiet. Sharp. Maybe that’s why he’s always tried to play the moral compass....because he’s hiding sothing. Maybe he’s playing a long ga for the other side.
Or
Zaara?
No.
No, it couldn’t be.
But then again... wasn’t that the point of a wildcard?
To be the one no one suspected?
Nomi stood still near her bed, eyes scanning the others. Like she was trying to see under their skin. Jojo didn’t even bother hiding her suspicion....she looked ready to start pointing fingers.
Everyone looked... different now.
Not just scared.
Hunted. And hunting.
Paranoia wrapped its fingers around all of us. You could almost see the gears grinding in people’s heads. Who do I trust? Who’s watching ? Who’s pretending?
Soone finally spoke. "What if we guess wrong? What could be the punishnt?"
Hell, for all I knew....it could be even be you. What if I was the wildcard and didn’t even know it?
Soone laughed nervously... "So... we just point fingers for three days, huh?"
No one answered.
Seventy-two hours. Three days of mind gas, and second-guessing everyone you thought you could trust.
The ga had changed. Again.
But this ti, it wasn’t about strength. It was about instinct.
And survival without blood might just be worse.
The tir on the wall ticked down... beep... beep. 71 hours, 42 minutes, and counting.
Nomi was already moving....gliding from person to person like she was born for this kind of manipulation. Her voice was soft. I saw her lean into Theo, then Jojo. She touched Carter’s arm like they were old friends. She wasn’t talking. She was digging. Watching reactions. Prodding for slips.
Theo stayed quiet, folded his arms,and rested his back against the wall. He let people approach him, sothing he wouldn’t do on a normal day. asured them with his eyes. Said only what he had to. I couldn’t tell if that made him suspicious... or dangerous as hell.
Jojo was pacing. She wasn’t playing subtle. "This is bullshit," she muttered loud enough for everyone to hear. "There’s no fucking wildcard. This is just another head ga. They want us to turn on each other."
Still, her eyes never stopped moving. She wanted to believe that. But part of her was already suspicious.
Carter sat at one of the corner tables with a notebook in front of him, writing sothing. Notes, maybe. Nas. Patterns. I don’t know. He didn’t talk to anyone. Just glanced up occasionally, like he was mapping out the battlefield in his mind.
Then there was Zaara, beside .
She hadn’t moved. Her arms were folded across her chest, but I could see the muscles in her jaw twitching.
"What are you thinking?" I asked quietly.
She didn’t look at when she answered. "I’m thinking this isn’t about finding the wildcard. It’s about what we’ll beco trying to find them."
That hit hard. Because she was right.
This wasn’t just about logic. It was about pressure. Three days of not knowing who to trust. Three days of whispered theories, private alliances, betrayals and manipulation.
It would change people.
It already was.
I looked across the room and saw Silas, a quiet boy in the room, whispering sothing to Rae, his female bunkmate. She nodded. Then glanced around like she wasn’t sure if she’d just agreed to sothing smart or sothing fatal.
We weren’t even five hours in... and suspicion was already spreading like smoke.
People started forming little groups. Conversations that had once been casual beca deliberate, full of pauses and half-truths.
Zaara and I stayed to the side.
"They’re building camps," I murmured.
"Lines in the sand," she replied. "And by tomorrow, those lines’ll turn into walls."
Just then, Nomi approached us. "Can I sit?"
Zaara rolled her eyes.
"Huhh....Sure," I said slowly.
She sat beside , legs crossed, eyes flitting between us.
"I think we should work together," she said. "The three of us. Watch each other’s backs. There’s no way we can figure this out alone."
Zaara didn’t answer.
I kept my face still. "Why us?"
"Because," she said, licking her lips slightly, "none of us are the wildcard."
That made pause. The way she said it....so certain. Too certain.
Zaara caught it too. "How do you know that?"
Nomi just smiled. "Because if I was the wildcard... I wouldn’t be wasting ti trying to build trust."
And then she stood, just like that, and walked away, letting her words hang like a loaded gun.
Zaara turned to . "She’s lying."
"She could be."
"Or she’s telling the truth...just to seem like she’s lying."
"Which is worse."
We sat in silence for a mont.
I looked around again.
Every glance felt weaponized now. Every silence was suspect. We had 71 more hours left.
Soone in this room was the wildcard.
And whoever they were... they were probably already watching .
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