As the boat's engine fades into the distance, I step onto solid ground, inhaling the salty air that feels like freedom after the stuffiness of the cabin. It is tense in that cramped space; I think I might pass out from lack of air, but thankfully, that doesn’t happen.

Initially, it feels awkward when I join the others. Someone overhears my earlier comments—not the part where my feelings waver—and shares them, claiming I have made a great start, laced with a sarcastic tone. Fortunately, Evelyn knows a few other I.R.T. members, and I manage to get along with them, more or less.

I want to delve deeper into my thoughts, but a loud horn jolts me back to the present. The unexpected sound resonates from Chief Nebula and his companions, who stand near our equipment. Momentarily, they capture everyone's attention, causing a brief pause in our conversations.

As I gaze at the 65-year-old man, I can't help but notice how frail and thin he appears in his military suit. His light blonde hair glimmers under the blazing afternoon sun, and his striking hazel eyes reflect the day's warmth. The way his hair shines is almost unbelievable, while his eyes seem to hold a depth of experience. Despite his delicate appearance, I know from experience that Chief Nebula is a formidable opponent—a strategist whose mind is as sharp as a dagger. Though he is no longer in his prime, he remains an essential team member, revered for his extensive knowledge of military tactics. A bodyguard, blending in with the others, stands close by, ready to provide security.

"Take position!" shouts the man beside the chief, his voice slicing through the air like a whip, commanding immediate attention.

"Thank you, Hael. I'm Chief Nebula," he begins, "and we are now on this island to eliminate those bloodthirsty monsters. It's time to be cautious. This won't be easy; these creatures are tough, but we are tougher, and we are a team! I don't want to see anyone lounging around in the next few days. If you think you can't handle it, now is your chance to step forward!"

I scan the beach, searching for anyone brave—or cowardly—enough to step forward, but the group stands resolute, their determination unyielding. A heavy silence envelops us, each heartbeat echoing in my ears as we exchange glances, weighing the chief's words.

After a tense pause, the chief breaks the silence. "Well, I hope you won't disappoint me... It will take us half a day to reach the fortress. Do you all understand?"

The group shouts in unison, "Yes, sir!" We arrange ourselves in a line, two abreast, the sand shifting beneath our feet, reminiscent of a school trip but charged with the weight of our mission ahead.

I position myself to the left of a young man who appears to be a few years younger than me. His head is full of dark, almost black hair that contrasts sharply with his pale skin and grey eyes. I haven't seen him on the boat, so I guess he prefers solitude, likely hiding somewhere on the ship to avoid conversations. I can relate; I have done the same, but he doesn't have anyone to push him to communicate with others.

A stern voice jolts me back to reality as I simmer in my frustration towards Evelyn and contemplate the stranger beside me. "March!" screams Chief Nebula, leading us into the dark forest.

Before we enter, I take a quick glance at the ocean, wondering when I will see the mainland again—and whether I will even be alive to do so.