Thump...

Thump...!

Victor perked up at the sudden deep, repeated thumping off at the distance, the ground shaking from the sheer size of whatever was causing it. "What the hell is that?" He asked to no one in particular as he looked around to see the source of the tremors, but tried as he might, he couldn't catch a glimpse of anything that would stand out. His search though was broken by the shrill screaming of Sophia and watched her pass out again in the bushes. The stick and the coconut that he was holding fell with a light 'thud' as he rushed over to the girl and lifted her limp body up, checking for any bruising or cuts along the head.

What the hell did she see? Victor's gaze followed where Sophia had been looking through the tree line back towards the beach and saw... What the fuck was that? It looked like a frog, but it was the size of a bus and had six goat-like eyes lined up in a row, and from its front legs were a membrane that looked like wings. There was no creature on Earth that looked like that. Wherever that water spirited them away to, they were not in Kansas anymore.

"Mon Dieu," was the only thing he could muster to say, his eyes widened in disbelief and his jaw slack. Forget sticks and stones breaking bones, a damn rifle wouldn't be able to put that behemoth down. It would only just piss it off. There was nothing they could do that thing to kill it. Whatever it was, it was the apex predator, and they were the flies.

Without warning, the thing bellowed, the force of that thing's scream ripped bushes from the ground and shook trees. Victor as best as he could tried to cover his ears while trying not to drop Sophia, as much as he wanted to. His gave soon returned to the create and he just watched its many eyes dart around, making it unpredictable of where it was looking. However, it was very likely that one of the eyes was looking at them.

Without break his line of sight on the hell frog Victor said to the group, "We need to run, now."

---

There was much abuzz within the group - several had occupied themselves with tree-clambering and food acquisition that they'd almost seemed apt at it. The nature in which they'd gathered, collectivised and made success in their trial instilled a sort of conspiracy within Franciszek's mind. Perhaps it was a disguised experience within the school, some sort of complex team building exercise. But all of it was too elaborate. Sure, Harbour was a very esteemed academy but to the extent of organising something along the level of Lost - or I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here - was just...well it was all ridiculous. And none it explained the sheer panic and transient experience he'd had, with the water that burned him inwards.

It was pessimistic - rightfully so. Nothing about the situation sat well enough to let him forget. He thought about these sort of things all too much, and whilst it was counterproductive to those that simply wanted to go along with it, he saw caution as the only thing keeping him weary. Though even that was arguable, for the boy was shaken and still very much at unease.

Yet the paranoia seemed to have paid off. Because it started with a light rumble off in the distance. The beating of wings far out beyond the shore. There was a collective silence when everyone noticed it. And his throat clogged up with fear and anxiety. Even before he spotted the beast, there was no doubt that the machinations of their twisted reality were without limitation. He lifted his head and turned over to the sea, and from the great expanse came a terrible creature, leaping forward and driving its wicked limbs into the sand with one fell maneuverer.

The beast was upon their shores, and with a great wave of force it sent out a shockwave, one that forced Franciszek onto his arse in staggered panic. Instinct took the better of him and he raced to the side, stopping only when he saw one lad holding on to Sophia's passed out self - again. He wasn't sure as to why, but one would struggle on their own. He turned his eyes away from the beast that stared them down, aplenty in its horrific gazes, and he helped to lift Sophia off of the ground. Almost immediately, he trudged forward.

"Then shut up and start doing it!" He beckoned to the french lad. He wasn't being brave, no not in his mind. He was scared shitless, and that was what caused him to act.

In a silence sullen Imogen went along, plodding after Sofia, Maive, and the others at a slight distance. For now she’d had her fill of venting her suppressed frustrations, however much that actually made her feel better, but she didn’t want Sofia thinking that everything was all hunky-dory just because the uproar died down, either. She took charge again and marched off toward the trees a little too readily for Imogen’s liking, as if she’d personally averted the crisis and put her merry little band back on the road to sunshine, lollipops, and the power of friendship. Sofia hadn’t done anything, though, and she hadn’t earned anything. No matter whether the urge came out of self-centeredness or a misguided need to make up for her mistakes, if Sofia wanted to lead, she shouldn’t except Imogen to follow.

Except this one time, but come on. Not like there was anything else to do.

Despite a total lack of communication or planning, the beachgoers reunited with the junglers almost immediately. The island was just that small. When them arrived she found Victor holding a branch as if to strike them, which earned him a scary look from Imogen. Go ahead and try it, eyelashes, her expression dared him. Apparently the others had been on the hunt for coconuts, an endeavor that thoroughly uninterested Imogen. Whether or not she found herself on a tropical island with scarce resources, she didn’t feel any thirstier than when she arrived at that pier back in the real world. Of course, the others panicking to clean this place out of any resources they could find -regardless of them possibly being toxic or diseased- might pose an issue in the long run, but all that survival nonsense supposed that things here would be running on real world logic, which they obviously wouldn’t be. By now Imogen felt one hundred percent confident in her ‘coma dream’ theory, despite it not completely explaining how it seemed to be simulated the behavior of random strangers she didn’t know. Then again, dreams were like that anyways. She was probably just projecting, although that made the fact that her attempt to vent and relieve stress in her own imagination got shut down by an imaginary crybaby even more sad.

Regardless, she felt no need to start fires or weave hammocks from palm fronds. Those survival shows worked because the producers had medical teams off-camera to swoop in if anything bad happened. Even if one or two people here had a clue about how to prolong the inevitable, trying to make it feel like they were in control, they were ultimately powerless. As the others rested or busied themselves Imogen just leaned against a tree, waiting for the illusion to break down. She’d bet her bottom dollar that things were going to get screwy, and sooner rather than later.

Thanks to the lack of attention she paid to the other students, she noticed the strange silence within seconds of its manifestation. All of a sudden the soft washing noise of the surf formed the only natural sound within earshot. Oh, she thought, peering through the trees. There we go.

Even with the damage done to her glasses, Imogen noticed something big moving straight away, especially with all the lead-up provided by the tremors. From the moment she arrived here she’d gotten the distinct impression that something was wrong with the water here. Normally the ocean should be the whole point of going to the beach in the first place, but this particular sea seemed to her less like a pleasant diversion and more like a yawning abyss, just waiting to pull her in and devour her if she immersed so much as a single foot within it. Like quicksand. But now this bizarre ocean, sick of waiting for people to enter its horror, had thrown something back, coughing it up from its deepest, most primeval recesses, far beyond human ken.

A sagging, warty, blobbish behemoth dragged itself up from the water, revealing its unnatural size one weighty heave at a time. Even as the water rolled off its back, its rugose skin still glistened, moisturized by a thick, sludgy film. Its great googly peepers lolled around in their sockets, all six of them, searching for food. Searching for them. Imogen shrunk down behind her tree, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and amazement as she tried to make herself as small as possible. “Hah…hahah….” After all her theorizing, this was vindication–but at what cost? The hideous monster hurled its massive bulk through the air, slammed down on the sandy shore, and blasted the island itself with a guttural roar. Despite her fervent desire to not look as weak as Sofia, Imogen locked up and toppled over backward into the underbrush from the force of the awful sound, even if just for a moment. She then scrambled to her feet, all the manic energy that dwelled within her a few moments ago back with a vengeance. Imogen didn’t need Capitaine Évident to tell her to run; she was off like a shot in the opposite direction, running as fast and as far away from the froggy fiend as possible.

With the teens’ departure from reality irrevocably proven, all bets were off. In the depths of Imogen’s probably coma, did that beast somehow represent the end? Death coming to take her? She didn’t plan to find out. All she knew was that, however bad things might be, she didn’t want to die. This island wasn’t big enough to outrun that thing indefinitely. With its monumental girth it could knock down any tree she tried to climb. Imogen’s only hope was to flee, not get cornered on the far shore, and hope that monster plodded after someone else.

That was a big frog. A sharpened stick probably wouldn't help here, and it wouldn't even feel a rock slung by a sling, hm? And it came from the sea too. Sea-frogs weren't a thing, so that meant...

"Yup. This isn't Earth."

Sofia fell over. First to fall, first to die, but her sacrifice will buy others time. Victor was giving out orders he wasn't following. Frankie looked to be hydrated at last, and disappeared into the brush. Imogen followed soon after. Prodigious size alone made it out to be the sort of monster that could swallow them all whole. Were those webbed arms meant to help it swim, or could it achieve true flight too? Did it come here, chasing after castaways, or was it a migratory predator that leapfrogged (heh) from one island to the next? If she had an oxygen tank and some sort of hooking implement, could she ride on its back to the next island?

Mhmm, yeah, Verity could understand what was happening. In the face of the truly incomprehensible, she kept her emotions in check through pointless musings. And as its six eyes looked into the treeline, she sank further down into the brush, comfortable enough with following in the example of the birds and bugs. Her breaths measured. Her heart pounding. A smile on her face, and a flicker of regret in her mind.

Oh, if she had brought a gun to her swim, imagine how great their food situation would be!

---

Fear.

That's what filled Maive at this moment.

The surreal island holiday had turned into a nightmare as the massive chimerical beast landed and shook the island with its screech. It was no longer a mysterious scenario where they'd bond and find a way home. Now, it was a matter of surviving in the immediate moment.

She looked towards the collapsed Sofia. Victor was already carrying her. That was good. If Victor hadn't done so, Maive would have hauled her like a sack of potatoes.

Verity, on the other hand, had gone with her personal flow the second she tripped. Rather than make a mad dash to escape, she resigned and decided the best course of action was to hide. A good plan with a fatal flaw in Maive's mind: everyone else was running. If the toad-beast decided to unleash a second, closer screech as it gave chase, Verity would have certainly been popped like a microwaved egg. Plus, the thing had six eyes. It was probably good at seeing things.

Maive made her escape plan. She'd throw Verity on her shoulders and dash for safety with her. Better to run than crushed like an ant under foot.

---

Sudden quiet in nature was bad, wasn't it? If everything shut up, it had to stem from wariness. A predator drew near, a natural disaster loomed, a calamity was surely in the making. But Daniel couldn't, for the life of him, figure out what had everything on the island so spooked. The sky was still sunny as ever, so that ruled out hurricanes. The island didn't seem big enough to support any particularly dangerous carnivores. Did they feel an earthquake? Was this pathetic excuse for a sandbar about to be wiped off the map by a sudden tsunami?

It seems Sofia had seen it, judging by her second fainting spell. That woman needed to see a doctor. His concern was short-lived, however, as a resounding thud from the distance stole Danny's attentions from the girl near immediately. Stress clenched its way up his frame as he turned; he really hoped everyone else had a good enough vantage point to see the thing too, because asking Sofia what the hell they were dealing with seemed out of the question. (Un)luckily for him, the steadily-increasing hindrance that was his eyesight made little difference; the threat was still quite visible from a distance. It wasn't quite Jurassic Park, but it was close. Some grotesque monster had shambled its way onto the island, somewhere between a frog and... well, he really didn't know what else to classify it as.

For once, he found himself in agreement with just about every comment his fellow islanders had made. Even Verity. It was a dream after all! This was, of course, the part where he'd start running in slow motion, because that always happened in dreams. Then the frog-thing would be moments from eating him, and he'd wake up. It really would just be simpler to accept his fate and let it happen.

But why did that feel like such a bad idea?

With that primal, instinctive urge driving him, Danny took off without a word. He had no idea how frogs found their prey or if dinosaur frogs even worked the same as real frogs, but he certainly wasn't going to stay there and be trampled, if not eaten. Though, that begged the question, what was he hoping to find? Sure, big reptiles - amphibians too, probably - weren't exactly known for their stamina, but there was only so much island and the thing would recover eventually. It wasn't like they had any way to kill such a massive thing even while it rested.

"Where are- we running- to?! This- island- isn't big- enough!" Danny huffed out toward his fellow runners between exhales, taking care not to exhaust himself prematurely with something as mundane as manic questions.

---

Orlando

---

The silence that permeated the jungle didn't last long, a heavy thump made Orlando snap his head toward the water. Until now he tried to ignore the sea, just looking at it made him feel queasy, like there was a voice inside his head telling him not to go near it, but now something was getting near them coming from that direction. Another thump made his heart beat faster. Whatever that thing was, it was big, perhaps an elephant? but what would an elephant be doing in a place like this?

Orlando didn't have to guess for too much, as Sofia's scream alerted the whole group of the danger, and probably any other inhabitant of the island too, but upon seeing the monstrosity a few meters ahead of them he felt that for once her reaction was not exaggerated.

Big was the first word that came to Orlando's mind, big and ugly. It looked like a frog if it was drawn by a 5 year old who decided to change one pair of legs for wings on a whim. Any other thought left his mind when the beast opened his mouth and let out a massive bellow that rattled his bones and made his ears hurt.

Faced with such an impossibility a primal, instinctive part of Orlando's mind took control of him and without waiting to see what the rest of his peers did, threw the stone in his hand in such a way that it would fly over the head of the frog, hopping that it would distract it for at least some moments, but he didn't wait to see if that was the case. Even before the rock left his hand he was already running in the opposite direction.

"run, run, run, run, run" was the only thing repeating in his mind as he speeded through the forest. He heard someone near him asking a question but he wasn't in any condition to answer, the survival instinct innate to all human beings had taken over his body, and Orlando could only focus on what was ahead of him, dodging any rock or branch that could slow him down.

He needed to keep running until he could make sure he was safe, dying wasn't an option, not now that he finally got a chance to change his and his family's life.

---

One person who didn't see the frog's lunch, however, was Victor. He was back in the darkness, back in the aching cold.

In his mind, a voice resonated. Neither feminine nor masculine, high nor low. It communicated its meaning to his mind, like a unspoken thought.

"Water... I see. The gateway, the horizon, the boundary..."

Before Victor could ask what the hell that meant, a flash of light pierced through the darkness. He was awake once more, and—

Where the hell was he? He was sopping wet, with sand all up—wherever sand goes. Beneath him was hard, cold tile. Above him was fluorescent lights.

Oh, merde. It was the school lavatory.

---

Maive thought it was a good thing that she helped Verity back up. With the toad landing on where they once were, Verity would have, at best, eaten the things that the toad's landing kicked up. Her thoughts were quickly dashed when she looked back and saw Victor being struck by the toad and Sofia being grabbed by the tongue.

Doubts clouded Maive's mind.

Should she have gone to help Victor pick Sofia up?
Would Verity be fine if she did?
What if she warned everyone that the pier was slippery?
Had she not tripped and dragged everyone with her?

Her pulse quickened. A nervous and stressed heat bubbled over her. She felt herself about to cry once again.

Are you snivelling in the face of another tragedy?
Crying seems to be what you do the most.

A voice resounded through her mind. Maive clenched her fists in response, her nails leaving imprints on her palm.

If you truly care for those around you...
Wouldn't you be more than a servant left to fate?
Concern does not solely lie within compassion.
You should know this.
I am thou, thou art I...
Shall we avert this tragedy together?

Maive's voice first came as a mumble.

"I cry..."

Her voice became louder.

"Not just now... Every night."

Finally, she was practically yelling.

"I just want to see my family!"

Maive's arm stretched towards the toad beast that swallowed Sofia. Her eyelids squeezed out every last tear that had welled.

"Persona!"

A torrent of wind spun around Maive and made her loose-fitting clothes flutter. Electricity crackled off her skin, power barely being restrained.

Something appeared behind Maive as the winds coalesced into a physical form behind her: a cocoon of manifested gales. Once fully formed, the cocoon exploded and unleashed a forceful pulse. A ghostly figure obscured by a cloak of storms was now in full view. Its dour expression was hidden except for a single eye that looked upon the beast with contempt. Six ephemeral hands joined Maive as they pointed towards the toad beast.

Instinct took over Maive as she clenched her fist. The ephemeral hands vanished back into the winds rapidly converging upon the toad beast. Once again, the wind gained form: a hand as large as the toad beast. The wind assailed it from all sides, the newly-formed hand gripping the toad. It was an attempt at freeing Sofia by treating the toad as a squeeze toy.

Yeah, no Victor saw the leap that the hell frog made and just booked it as best as could with the unconscious Sophia clung to him. Well, he would have if she would stop being a hindrance to their own survival! Victor just as he was about to make a mad dash like the rest of his peers, Sophia's body spasmed, which made her fall off him.

For the love of... This girl was continuing to prove that if one looked up the definition of 'dead weight' they'd find a picture of her next its definition! Truly there has been no one as fitting for term as she dangled uselessly on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and let's be honest here, that was an insult to potatoes everywhere. It was as if the universe made her its butt monkey and then made her everyone else's problem too. If it were not for the fact that leaving her for dead would have weighed on his conscience, Victor would have left her on the ground to be chow for the warty fucker.

He did not have time to even react to what had happened. One moment he was reaching down to pick up Miss Top 15 and then the next thing he knew he felt his body crumple as he was sent flying, the air was forcibly pushed out of his body and crashed into the spring. Then there was just nothing.

Victor drifted in the waters, his consciousness fading in and out as he drifted deeper and deeper into the spring until the all too familiar icy chill dug its nails into his bones. His eyes fluttered open only to be greeted by the darkness from when he fell into the ocean. Again, he was floating in place though he was uncertain as to what would happen next. When he first fell in, he was flying above another ocean, heard a voice that boiled his insides as if molten tar was poured down his gullet, and them woke up on that beach.

A sense of fear grasped his heart for whatever the awaited future would be. Would he be sent to another island again filled with demon frogs or somewhere else. Was there even something else to come? The only thing more terrifying than being transported to some unknown world, was nothing else happening; to float in the darkness along with no end in sight. A true hell.

The silence was broken. The voice appeared again and warmth washed over him.

"Water... I see. The gateway, the horizon, the boundary..."

Victor did not even get a chance to ask what it was talking about. Light broke through the darkness and his eyes shot wide open. He wasn't floating anymore; his back was pressed against something smooth, yet cool and solid though his vision was completely out of focus. The young Frenchman shielded his eyes from the brightness as he sat back up because it turned out when someone goes from complete darkness to light, their eyes don't adjust immediately.

"Am I dead?" He asked himself in disbelief, his free hand pressed against the ground. It wasn't just smooth and cool; it had ridged and gaps just like tiles. Upon this realization, his hand fumbled around the surface desperately clarifying that what it was and then became hyper aware of not just his surroundings, but himself. Victor was drenched from head to toe, his hair clung to his face and sand in, well, places that won't be mentioned.

Victor scrambled to his feet and spun around to get the full view of his surroundings. It was the second-floor bathroom back in school. The strength in his legs almost gave out on him and he held himself up by balancing against the sink. His breathing was rapid and sharp as he felt a volatile mix of emotion sit in his stomach like bricks, beads of cold sweat ran down his head. In between panicked short breaths Victor asked himself, "Why am I...? How am I...?" Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes and his hand, shaking, covered his mouth as if he was trying to hold back a scream.

There was no time to panic though. For as far he could tell, he was back in school while everyone else was still stuck on the island with that beast. He leaned forward onto the sink and pushed the wet hair out of his eyes that stared at his own reflection in the mirror. "Calm down Victor. You won't get anywhere like this."

Victor poked his head out of the bathroom to make sure that there was no surprise students or janitors walking down the hallway before he made his way out of the building. The only thing he could do now was go back to the docks and investigate the area to figure out what happened, and well, get his clothes back too. He was sure to be sneaky though as he no doubt would have had a bit of trouble explaining why he was just wearing swim trunks on campus in the middle of the night.

Given wings by her panic, Imogen’s flight brought her to the far side of the island lickety-split. Her shoes pounded the sand only a little less hard than her heart pounded in her chest. No matter how little she knew or understood about her current situation, she knew one thing with every fiber of her being: that she wasn’t going to be eaten by that monstrosity. Even if her real body lay on the brink of death, whether in a hospital bed or on the silty seabed, and none of her actions here mattered one way or the other as to whether or not she’d see another day, Imogen wanted to live. More accurately, perhaps, she didn’t want to be ground into pulp inside that thing’s maw, or slowly disintegrated by its stomach acid. If she could help it, Imogen would keep going, because that’s what she’d always done no matter how bad things got. Even if all the world were to conspire to arrange her downfall, she’d find a way to persevere through sheer spite.

Right now, though, her grand designs ran into a little snag. Predictably, she ran out of island, and slid to a stop in a spray of sand just inches from the bubbling surf of that uncanny sea. Imogan whipped around to look for the frog, her breathing ragged and unsteady. Despite her best efforts, she could still see and hear that damnable amphibian through the trees, but at least it didn’t seem to be pursuing her. Phase two of her ‘plan’ had already begun, which consisted for the most part of hoping that bulbous freak went after someone else. She didn’t know if she could stay away from it if it set her sights on her; only now, after her brief burst of adrenaline, could she really begin to appreciate how much her mad dash took out of her. Probable malnourishment plus a rather sedentary lifestyle did not add up to make a physical powerhouse. Her vision swam, her throat hurt, and she could only wait and watch for danger as she struggled to stay standing.

From this distance she couldn’t see the whole story, but things didn’t look good. At first she Imogen wondered if the ungainly beast hadn’t pursued anyone -predators in the wild could be confused by the erratic movement of fleeing zebras and such, after all- but her heart sank as a more likely reason solidified in her mind. Someone might have tripped and fallen while trying to run, or maybe never fled at all, and remained paralyzed by fear on the spot. Gritting her teeth, Imogen tentatively moved along the shore until she could see a bit better, at which point her hands flew to her head. It was Maive. Someone had already been eaten -Sofia, if God was just- and now Maive stood alone in front of the heavyweight horror as it finished up the first course to move on to the second. Imogen hated the thought of just standing here and watching it happen, but what could she -or anyone- do?

As if in reply, the wind began to pick up.

Imogen froze, blinking in surprise, as a cool gust blew through her hair. Everything had been weirdly still up until now, but all of a sudden this breeze coursed through the bushes and palm fronds, building with such surprising speed that Imogen needed to steady herself to not teeter over. Equally baffled and amazed, she watched from afar as the air seemed to gather into a rippling storm cell by Maive. After just another moment, that blustery mass burst, and from within emerged a cyclonic apparition, its body like a loosely-wrapped mummy with ‘bandages’ of spiraling air. Nobody who looked at it and saw another monstrous foe here to torment them could be blamed for assuming the worst, but something about it sprouted a sprig of hope in Imogen’s heart. The way it appeared behind Maive and focused on the titanic toad told her that, for whatever reason, it was here to help and not harm. Sure enough, the whirling spirit went on the offensive, attacking the malignant menace with giant ghostly hands. Unfortunately, Maive’s helper did not succeed. She failed to extract the person the frog gobbled up, and Maive herself took a withering blow right afterward. That’s the end of that, Imogen thought, her hopes crushed and her day ruined (again), but somehow Maive survived the attack. Imogen’s grip on her head tightened, her eyes wide with worry. This emotional roller coaster sucked, and she wanted off. Being stuck in the peanut gallery sure wasn’t doing her emotional state any favors. She got the distinct impression that Maive and that inexplicable specter needed help, but Imogen couldn’t do anything. Scared, distant, powerless, worthless. Like always.

Verity was two seconds away from turning Maive into the next Sofia, before something truly, utterly, hilariously strange happened: the day darkened, the bookish woman started muttering to herself, and with the invocation of 'PERSONA', a cocoon of storm gave birth to massive hand that squeezed the bus-sized toad with such force that its mouth was forced open.

Presumably, there was some correlation here, so of course, while Verity was still hanging off of Maive's back, she tried it as well.

"Persona."

The only response to that attempt was the inflation of the toad's mouth though, and before it could belch out its tongue a second time, Verity sprung off of Maive, kicking off the woman's head like a swimmer from a diving block. An instant later, a shockwave of force barely grazed the soles of her feet, before she was rolling in the detritus of shrubbery and ruin once more. Not a tongue, which was good, because that meant Maive wasn't eaten. But an air cannon was also pretty bad, and while Maive's ghost friend could squeeze the toad, the toad's breath was enough to send her ragdolling into a tree before smashing her skull against the trunk.

It was a miracle that her head wasn't lolling about at some odd angle. That her brains weren't painting her lips.

And really, it just sorta proved that one ghost friend wasn't enough when you were a human being up against a bus-sized frog with a taste for human flesh.

...

"Ha..."

Verity picked herself up. Funneled her thoughts down in one direction. What did she know about toads. What did she know about this toad? It had no useful front limbs, but cannot walk. It possesses the ability to leap great distances. It shoots out with its tongue, and can shout in the same method. It hasn't shown much ability to turn around; it probably couldn't. Its tongue was sticky, but Sofia hadn't been crushed to death yet, so that was fine. Alright.

Running over to Maive, the pale-skinned girl returned the favor, delivering a hearty slap to her face before pulling her behind the tree. Tongue would have to go through a tree first. Roar wasn't strong enough to uproot it as well. All that mattered would be whether or not the toad went for another big jump, but they had a bit of time anyhow.

"Listen up." Her hands grabbed the sides of the bespectacled bitch's face, fingers pressed against her temples. If Maive didn't, then she was just bait. "It's a toad. Can't walk on land with how it is. Get your ghost to carry you. Fly close and fly around it. Bully it that way. If it leaps up for a stomp, throw yourself away and get the ghost to go for the belly. Think like a rat. No, a roach. You're a roach with that thick head of yours. A magic roach. Scurry around and fuck it up. That's how you get Top 15 Science Track out."

Her eyes flickered back and forth, checking to see if the toad was happy to eat or hungry for more.

"Now, tell me. What are you?"

Orlando

---

He heard another enormous thump, small branches, and dirt crashing on his legs, the air pressure has carried them from the place the monstrous frog descended from its leap, closer than he expected, but he did not stop. He saw, from his peripheric vision, that a handful of people were starting to lag behind him, but he did not stop. Orlando kept running, ignoring the inkling of guilt that slowly but surely started to become bigger and bigger. The thoughts of running that dominated his mind started to be replaced by excuses and justifications. 'I don't even know them. They would do the same. It's not my fault. I don't want to die'. As long as he focused only on putting one foot after the other he could forget about everything else, he could deal with his emotions after he was safe.

And then a body flew over past him. He froze, looking as Victor, now that he could discern better, felt into the spring, making a splash from the impact. Orlando stood there for a few moments, the gravity of the situation weighing on his mind. His body moved almost on its own, bypassing the last few meters he needed to reach the border of the spring. He slowly moved his gaze toward the place Victor's body had hit the surface, but instead of finding a corpse, he found nothing.

"W-what?" Was all he could say. He could see the bottom from his position, but no matter where he shifted his gaze there was nothing on the water that even resembled the shape of a person. Just another item to add to the already large list of impossibilities they lived through since they magically arrived at this... wait! Could it be? He remembered how they arrived at the beach to begin with, how it all started with a slip, a fall, and cold water, perhaps Victor returned to that old pier? Maybe he just needed to take a dive and everything would return to normal, no creepy men in a raft, no unsettling ocean, and no giant monster frog. But then a doubt surfaced in his mind, an image of him waking up in another weird place, an eternal nightmare where he could never wake up.

His doubts were interrupted by a tingling sensation in the base of his neck. Orlando looked around and noticed something strange: It was darker, the bright sun that hounded them since they got here became shadowed by some black clouds, a strange sight made all the weirder by a sound that reached his ears. It was Maive voice, but its characteristic softness that seemed to encompass the bespectacled girl was replaced by loudness, the single word he could hear from his position at the edge of the spring resonated with him in a strange way, like the lullabies his mother used to sing when he was younger.

"Persona!"

He reached the clearing just in time to witness Maive facing the gigantic toad alone, but not for long. It started with a breeze, but it rapidly became a gale, scattering branches and leaves all over the place. Then the winds started to gather behind the girl, forming a shape similar to a cocoon before exploding outwards, and in its place, an ethereal entity stood in silence. It exuded tranquility not dissimilar to the girl in front of it, yet Orlando could feel a sense of power emanating from it, and he was proven right when the figure extended all six of its hands towards the beast, who now looked wary, scared even.

Whirlinds started to zero in on the frog, forming a hand that squeezed it with what he expected to be considerable strength. It was then that he realized there was someone inside its mouth, the toad's large tongue unrolling just enough to see Sofia's unconscious body in its grip. He mentally cheered, whatever the hell that thing was it seemed to be able to stop the frog, just a few more hits like that and it would be over!

Sadly, Maive's opponent decided to stop being passive and bellowed its greatest scream yet, so strong was its force that it blew her away, making her crash into a thick branch, the phantasmal apparition disappearing for some reason, and Orlando only managed to stay in its place due to the three he managed to grab. Things were looking rough, he saw Verity managing to take Maive behind a tree, but he didn't know how much time they had before the beast decided to follow them. He racked his brain for any ideas but came up with none, and after looking around, identified some of his peers also watching the fight.

For all he knew, Maive was the only thing guarding them against a slow and painful death, and she needed time to recover, he couldn't guess just how severe was the hit she took. Perhaps it was the heat of the sun, the sight of Victor's body getting tossed like a ball or the toll this entire situation took in his brain, but his mind reached a single conclusion: They needed to distract the thing and make some time or they would die, so he did just that, not before telling anyone near them about his plan, if it could be called that.

"Guys we need to distract the frog so Maive can recover! Just do whatever you can!" He screamed and started to throw stones toward the head of the toad, trying to hit an eye from his position, perhaps he could blind it so they would have an easier time escaping if things didn't work out. He didn't know what he would actually do if he managed to get its attention, his plan didn't far, but he hoped that the living tornado didn't need that much time to heal.

---

Daniel didn't bother looking back. The resounding rumble from the frog's leap gave him a pretty complete idea of what had happened behind him. Then came the screams; they sounded distant, smothered. Had it landed on top of someone? Sounded like Sofia. Was everyone helping her crushed too? Damn it, he'd risk it.

The boy turned back for a brief instant, just in time to witness the air come alive in the shape of some terrible video game elemental. Before he could lament on what a bad idea pausing for a moment was with that thing joining his pursuer, the living cyclone reached down and... turned on the frog? Unfortunately, he didn't have much time to appreciate his savior, as the frog belched it away with a screech that shook the trees. The Brazilian kid, apparently emboldened by the display rather than rightfully disturbed, began tossing rocks at the beast, as if that would suffice where the giant wind monster had failed. Shame about Maive - Danny assumed she was the one dangling from the frog's tongue, given what Orlando said - but he certainly wasn't going to join her just to look like the hero.

So, in true heroic fashion, he turned back and resumed his desperate sprint. That was at least two people the frog had to content itself with before it'd get to him; maybe it'd be full after that and leave him alone. Not that it gave him a way off the island, but it bought him time. He'd been doing nothing but buying time lately. This dream was quickly turning into a psychoanalyst's wet dream, and he'd really appreciate the opportunity to wake up soon. When Daniel crossed the treeline and emerged back onto the shore, the full weight of his powerlessness came crashing down on him at last. Sure, he could dive into that weird water, but there's no way he'd outswim a giant frog. Without another island in sight, he wouldn't have a feasible escape even if he could, and it wasn't like he knew how to make a raft.

Trying to cross at last? Ah, but thou hast picked the wrong shore.

A voice whispered through his head, driving the building stress headache from earlier into an explosive crescendo near instantly. A hand shot up to clutch at his forehead reflexively as he drilled his eyes shut, now more focused on the voice than the frog behind him for some inexplicable reason. It sounded much like his own, but parched and raspy, as if it hadn't been used in a long, long time.

Unkind fate after unkind fate findeth thee.
Thinkest thou 'tis not weirdly fucked up?
But alas, the threshold may only be crossed one way, whether fairly or unfairly traversed.
Acceptance remaineth as the sole path.
Passivity shan't create a way back to what hath been lost.

Daniel had no idea what the hell his mind-voice was talking about, struggling as he was to remain on his feet while waves of pain throbbed through his head with every syllable it uttered, but the words resonated with his soul nevertheless. It wanted him to do... something, but he couldn't begin to fathom what.

Thine old self is dead and buried, beneath falsehood and castigation and shame, yet thou lingerest still before the ferry.
Canst thou not muster but a single coin for passage?
Or dost thou still believe a return is possible?
Art thou too afraid to pass on for fear that Elysium awaiteth not on the far shore?
Surely any destination appealeth more than this purgatory.

Purgatory? Was he dead? His brain went in circles; every line of thought he could manage through the pain nonsensically circled back to what the voice had said, and he had to admit, any destination did appeal right now. If he had a goal, a destination, a light in the distance to follow, he could at least say he'd tried. But he had nothing to give; no coins, nothing.

Dwell not upon thy former wealth, thou shalt have no need of it.
I ask for merely an obol, a drachma, a danake; a paltry sum to pay the toll.

It came to him at last.

"I don't know the way forward anymore," Danny mumbled ruefully to himself, "Not just here. Not just on this stupid dream island. I try not to think about it because it just makes me angry, but- but I have no idea where I'm going in life. I'm sixteen and it's already over, because I was stupid." The confession left his lips sourly, washed away by the sounds of the tide and the rattling of trees and chaos of a demon frog wreaking havoc upon the island, yet to Daniel the words seemed to hang in the air over him tauntingly. "And I know it's stupid because I could be so much worse off, but I hate it. I'm selfish and spoiled and I don't care; I hate it."

The invisible talons of pain relented of their grip on his head at once, replaced with a penetrating chill that crept up his spine like grasping hands intent on tugging him down into the grave. It was ominous, dangerous even, but Daniel felt no fear. It posed no threat to him; his way forward had already been secured.

The toll is paid. Let the contract be sealed.

I am thou, thou art I...
No matter how harrowing the waters, there is no river that cannot be navigated.
The ferry departeth, and thy faithful guide waiteth patiently for thee to step aboard.
If thou seekest passage, thou needst only call my name.

The name in question came to him as surely as he knew his own.

"Kharon!" Danny shouted as he staggered back into the brush. Mist coalesced in his wake, as if the icy chill that had seized him now extended to the air itself. A shadow loomed from within the cloud that grew taller at the boy's back with every step as his stride grew more steady and resolute. By the time the frog was back in sight, the wisps of shadow had solidifed into the soiled tatters of a rotting garment, floating in the sea breeze with ethereal languidity. A desiccated hand breached the veil of mist, holding within a gnarled oar of petrified wood that the figure swung with uncanny speed for its decrepit appearance, dissipating the curtain of fog.

The figure, now revealed, raised his cowled head to look upon the giant frog, his features still veiled by darkness aside from his unkempt beard. Another decaying hand rose, pointing at the frog in admonishment.

"Fuck your rocks, I'm killing this thing," Danny snarled, and Kharon mirrored his rage. Twin flames of eerie blue sparked to life beneath the Persona's hood, like two eyes burning with fury. Shadows coiled along its outstretched finger like flowing ink, which congealed at the tip of the extended digit briefly before they leapt off and wound through the air in a serpentine coil, intent on striking right into the amphibious enemy.

---

---

The frog's blast of force stole Maive's breath. It was much too powerful. Bashing her head against a palm trunk didn't help. Verity's initial blow to her skull probably made things worse. Her ears rang and her vision was troubled. However, she did not die. Even though the trunk had splintered and exposed its inner timber, Maive survived. Was it the blessing the visage that lent her its strength? Was it dumb luck? She couldn't tell.

Oh how she wanted to sleep off her disorientation. Do the exact opposite of what a doctor would recommend. Just close her eyes and drift off to sleep.

Verity wouldn't have any of that, so it would seem.

With her face grasped by Verity, she had no option but to listen to what Verity's mind called a pep talk. The dizziness seemed to compound on this. She had no option but to look Verity directly in her beady little eyes.

"A magic roach!?" She exclaimed in utter confusion. Well, she just had to do what Verity said, didn't she? Use wind to fly around. Punch a hole through its belly. Give the roach a palm-and-airy emblem-ism or whatever it was called.

Grasping onto the tree trunk, she rose from her position. Her eyes still didn't work right. Her brain hurt. She still had that obnoxious buzzing in her ears. They all had to be safe. They couldn't be safe until the frog was dead. Simple motivation. That's all she needed.

Wind spun and collected behind her, yet dispersed as she was unable to properly focus.

But it was not of her own hand that the toad fell. Some tried to distract the toad, actions with extraordinarily bad prospects. Others fell to fear, an understandable reaction to the first confrontation of their youthful immortality. One uttered familiar words. Words that Maive had instinctively uttered. Words that Verity tried to copy. Words that brought about the impossible. Though Daniel had said something different, the meaning was the same.

Daniel's mist had decayed the frog to sea foam, its death throes ineffective. It was over. Until the next headcount, at the very least.

"Oh..." Maive said as her voice quieted, "I'm glad...

In relief and exhaustion, Maive collapsed onto Verity. Whether or not Verity would catch her was a mystery for the ages.

So, what misadventures was Victor having while everyone else was awakening supernatural abilities that go beyond human comprehension? For the starters, he was doing his best to not get caught and kiss any hope of having an academic career and social life goodbye. There he was, almost butt naked with his modesty saved by his swim trunks and dripping wet from what he assumed to be the spring water he was slammed into or the primordial darkness that he had just been floating in. Every single nerve in his body screamed at him to go back to his room, to just let this night end and put whatever that hell was behind him, but he couldn't. He needed some bloody answers for that tropical flavored nightmare.

Actually, there were many reasons as to why he had to go back to the dock. First off, his wallet with his student ID was in pants and if they died then Victor was going to be suspect for a kidnapping, murder, or God knows what if they did not find their way off the island. He could not tell them what happened and even if he did, no one would believe him because even he did not believe it and he was the one who went through it. 'Yes officer, we jumped in the water and went through some primordial soup and ended up on an island to be attacked by some multi-eyed, winged hell frog.' They would have declared him insane, and he would have to live with the guilt that he was the only one who survived by sheer dumb luck.

He needed to figure out what happened, how he was able to leave that other world, and if possible, get back there and tell his schoolmates how to escape if they were not already dead. First, however, he needed to get off the school grounds proper and get back to the docks.

Water dripped down his body, leaving a wet trail behind him as he walked through the school corridors. Thankfully there was no one on the second floor of the school building at the same, so he made his way down to the ground floor and it was just a straight shot to get the exit, until he stumbled upon his first obstacle. Before Victor could turn the corner, he peeked his head past it and saw it was some kid stumbling around struggling to hold a quite large tuba case as they walked quickly as they could. They were probably late, and it looked like they were doing their best to keep their grasp on it and it was partially blocking their field of view.

Right, there was a music club at this time. Some of his classmates in the Arts Track joined it and he recalled talking to some of them about it. It was unlucky that he came across another person, but it wasn't a problem. One upside of being barefoot is that no one could hear his steps. So, Victor stealthily and carefully walked on the side where the tuba player's vision was obscured and even if they noticed, it would have been too late because he already gone.

Victor sighed a breath of relief as he finally made it outside the building though the real challenge had only just begun. Immediately, he made for a mad dash for the closest thing to hide behind, the bushes in this case, and surveyed his surroundings. This was where obstacle two reared its head. Peeking from the bushes Victor saw the groundskeeper preserving and maintain the beauty of the school campus with quite the funky enthusiasm. As they swept, it looked like they were moving to the rhythm.

"You'll never see it coming," the groundskeeper sung to themself. They were wearing headphones!

Taking advantage of that, Victor crept as quickly as he could whenever the groundskeeper was not looking his way to find new cover. It was a delicate balance where he could not make sudden movements that would be caught out of their peripheral vision, nor could he be so slow that if he took too much time then he would be caught. However, just as Victor was ducking behind a tree he noticed that the groundskeeper turned around at the last second and caught a glimpse of him and made their way over to investigate.

Victor in his panic looked around to see where he could hide, but there wasn't. It was either make a mad dash or get caught. That was until he looked up at the tree and a thought occurred.

The groundskeeper was perplexed; they could have sworn they saw someone not wearing their uniform, or anything at all for that matter, around the tree. They circled around it, but there was nothing. That was because up above him was Victor holding onto for dear life on tree branch, his legs and arms hooked around it like a Koala clinging to its mother.

I am a tree, I am a tree, I am a tree, I am a tree, was the mantra that he kept repeating to himself over and over again in his mind. Victor could feel the droplets of water gather at the tips of his hair just ready to drip down. I am a dry tree, I am a dry tree!

A droplet of water fell from Victor's head and narrowly just missed the groundskeeper. They eventually just shrugged and walked away, chalking it up to their imagination.

Victor sighed heavily with relief and dropped himself back onto the ground, landing on his feet. There was no other incident with the groundskeeper as he made his way through the grounds. Eventually, he lost sight of them. He was only going by memory at this point, but he thought that he was getting closer to the path that led to the docks.

If it were not for the risk of being charged for public indecency and having to avoid being seen by the school populace, this would have been a relaxing walk. However, this was not a relaxing walk. He could hear obstacle number three coming his way, a bunch of high school girls with smartphones. Forget being caught by tuba kid or the groundskeeper, if he was caught in 4k by them then his life would have been completely over. Victor did not need his photos plastered on social media that way!

Without thinking, he dove behind a tree that was between him and the four social executioners. Thankfully, it was dark out, so they did not notice him peeking to keep track of their movement while there were still lights that lit up areas. It should have been simple; he should have been able to wait it out for them to leave. He shifted his position to get a better view when he heard a loud CRACK. His eyes shifted down and saw that he had stepped on a branch, which he broke. Fuck.

"What was that?"

Victor heard one of the girls ask. He could hear their footsteps walk towards his way. His eyes widened in panic as he thought of every way of trying to explain his way out of the situation, every excuse, every bargaining chip, but he realized that none of that would save his skin when the majority of the students here had everything they could ever want. It was all social currency, and he was about to go bankrupt if he could not figure a way out of the situation. Then inspiration struck.

He began to make very audible sounds of a couple making out, which made the footsteps stop. He needed to sell it so, to make it somehow more convincing he pulled out the strongest, sultry Valley Girl impersonation possible and moaned out the first name that he could think of, "Oh Daniel~" This was then followed by more passionate kissing sounds.

He kept up the noises for the awkwardly long amount of time it would take when he heard 'Oh Daniel' not from him, but from one of the girl's phones and giggling as they finally walked away. Victor's face flushed red, and he curled up against the tree doing his best to not groan in embarrassment. Was him moaning Daniel's name going to be all over every student's social media account? Very likely. Was Daniel going to find out about it? Also yes, but goddamn was he convincing.

Finally, after all that time, Victor finally made it to the path that led down to the docks. Remember when being barefoot helped? He took that back. The damn path was covered in rocks and they sure loved to remind him that he did not have his bloody shoes on. Every step his took was as delicate as he could so he would not have shredded meat for feet.

Eventually, he did find his way down the switchback and arrived at the docks. He found everyone's clothes miraculously still there and not in the water after the freak accident with Maeve. At this point, he had already dried out save for his slightly damp swim trunks, so he just put his uniform back on.

"Fully clothed at last," Victor said to himself as he straightened his clothes. He dusted himself off and then began his investigation. He walked around the dock, trying to find anything completely out of the ordinary. Besides the clothes strewn about, there was nothing.

Was there really nothing? Did all of this happen just like that like they won the cosmic lottery of being royally screwed over? Victor craned his neck up to the night sky and sighed exasperatedly when he saw something impossible. His eyes widened and a familiar cold sensation ran down his spine. Lit by the pale moonlight was a man with white hair and a blue valet uniform standing on cliff tops looking down at the water.

A boiling sensation brewed in him, a volatile rage that bubbled forth. His teeth gnashed and his breathing became shallow and more rapid. "Hey, hey you!" Victor shouted as loud as he could, not caring if he would be caught anymore. He continued to shout with that vitriol, "I've seen you before and you've seen me! Who in the fresh hell are you and what the hell is going on?! Talk to me goddammit!"