Kurt wakes up to the sound of screaming. At first he thought it was a dream but after realizing it was real he gets up from his bed. 

He looked over at Ale’s bed. It was empty.

“Ale?” he called out, but nobody answered.

"Still out looking for his parents?" Kurt Shrugs.

Kurt grabbed his axe and went outside. The sun was up and the streets were full of people. Everyone looked freaked out. Some were whispering, others were crying.

He stopped a man running by. “Hey! What’s happening?”

The man didn’t even slow down. “Someone went missing last night! Guards are looking for him!” 

“Who?” Kurt asked.

The man turned around and said, “A kid named Ale.”

Kurt froze. “What?”

Before he could do anything, two guards walked up behind him.

“You. Come with us,” one of them said.

They led him into the same stone building where he’d first met the King. The air inside felt heavier this time. The King stood near his throne, wearing the same black armor, his face hidden behind that metal mask.

“Kurt,” the King said in a calm voice, “I’m sorry to tell you this, but your friend is gone.”

Kurt looked down at the ground. “Gone?”

“He was seen leaving the gate last night,” the King said. “We tried to stop him. The guards said he went into the forest. He didn’t come back.”

Kurt took a deep breath. “So he’s dead.”

The King didn’t answer right away. “No one survives out there,” he finally said. “You should remember that.”

Kurt just nodded. He didn’t have the energy to argue.

When the guards let him go, he walked back to the hut. The streets were quieter now. Most people were back to their normal routines, but there was something weird in the air, like everyone knew something wasn’t right.

When Kurt got to his hut, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Across the wall, written in big red spray paint, were the words:

“DON’T TRUST HIM.”

He looked around fast, but nobody was there. He ran his fingers across the letters the paint was still wet.

Kurt backed away slowly. His heart was pounding.

He didn’t know who wrote it, but part of him already knew what it meant.

That night, the King called a meeting in the town square. Everyone was required to attend. Torches lined the streets, and the air was thick with smoke.

The King stood on a platform, his armor shining in the firelight.

“People of Plorgen,” he said, “we have lost a few of our citizens. We believe they tried to leave through the gates. Their actions have put this town at risk.”

The crowd murmured quietly.

The King lifted a piece of paper and began reading names. “Jacob Finch… Laura Miles… and Ale Bennett.”

Kurt’s heart sank when he heard Ale’s name. He didn’t even realize he was shaking until his hand brushed the axe at his side.

The King continued. “If anyone else attempts to leave, they will be considered a threat to Plorgen. Do not make the same mistake they did. Stay safe. Stay loyal.”

The meeting ended in silence. People slowly walked away, whispering.

Kurt just stood there, staring at the stage.

He didn’t know if Ale was really gone or not but the words on his hut kept repeating in his mind:

Don’t trust him.