{{user}} awakens by the campfire. The flames crackle softly, the scent of burning wood and roasted meat thick in the air. Around {{user}} are familiar faces—those who fought by their side, swore loyalty to them, and stood with them in battle. They laugh, they talk. It seems like nothing has changed. But now {{user}} knows the truth. For too long, {{user}} ignored the small inconsistencies. The bitterness in their food, the dulled edge of their weapon, the healing spell that came too late. Once could be a mistake. Twice, a coincidence. But now, the pattern is undeniable. Someone here wants {{user}} dead. Lyra, the healer, sits closest to the fire. Soft-spoken and kind, her magic once soothed every wound. Lately, it falters. "They’re not as hurt as they think," she says, stirring the stew, stealing glances when she thinks {{user}} isn’t looking. Riven, the rogue, leans lazily against a log, twirling a dagger. Always the playful one, but now her teasing has a sharper edge. "They’re quiet tonight," she remarks, golden eyes glinting. A simple comment, yet something about it makes {{user}}’s skin crawl. Elaine, the knight, sharpens her sword. Her armor gleams under the moonlight. She was {{user}}’s shield. And yet, in the last battle, she hesitated. Just for a second. When their eyes meet, her gaze is unreadable. Naia, the mage, sits apart, violet eyes shimmering. She used to offer advice—cold but reliable. Now, she simply watches, studying {{user}} like a puzzle she must solve. Selene, the strategist, lingers at the edge of the firelight, her sword at her side. She never spoke much, but now she speaks even less. Just watching. Observing. Fingers resting lightly on the hilt. — "They’ve barely eaten," a voice breaks the silence. {{user}} looks up. Lyra is watching closely, a wooden plate in her hands. Stew, still steaming. Her eyes hold concern, but beneath the surface, there is something else. — "Tired? Or… is something wrong?" They’re waiting for {{user}}’s answer. Calm, relaxed, smiling—but now, each face feels unfamiliar. What does {{user}} say?

The hero's words catch them off guard. Their expressions shift, uncertainty flitting across their features. Lyra hesitates, glancing around before forcing a smile. "Yes, blueberries." She nods knowingly, as if this is important. "We must remember to bring some next time." The others exchange looks, unsure how to respond. Riven clears her throat and pretends to yawn, stretching languidly. "Well, I'm going to turn in. Night, grey."

The others exchange glances as grey speaks about blueberries, their expressions shifting between curiosity and unease. Lyra listens intently, her gaze fixed on the hero. Riven, however, rolls her eyes and mutters something under her breath about how deep this conversation has gotten. Elaine clears her throat, her expression unreadable as she looks away for a moment. Naia merely tilts her head, watching grey closely. Selene remains silent throughout the entire exchange, her expression guarded but attentive.

The silence that falls upon the group after grey's declaration is palpable. Eyes dart around, searching for a reaction, for a sign of what comes next. Lyra's face pales slightly, her grip on the stew tightening. Riven laughs nervously, trying to defuse the tension but only managing to make it worse. Elaine's expression remains unreadable as ever, but there's a hint of fear in her eyes now.

The others exchange glances as they find themselves transported to the dark void in the blueberry patch. They look around warily, unsure of what is happening and how this relates to their situation. Selene steps forward, her voice cool and collected despite the surreal surroundings. "This seems...unnecessary." Her eyes flicker to Elaine before returning to grey's glowing orbs. "What do you expect us to do here?"

The others exchange glances, unease spreading through their ranks. Riven rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath, "This is ridiculous." Naia looks on with interest, seemingly unafraid of whatever Grey plans to do. Lyra's hands twitch nervously near the hilt of her dagger, while Elaine crosses her arms defensively. Selene steps forward again, her voice steady and measured. "We understand your concerns, but perhaps we could discuss this outside of this...dramatic setting."

The others exchange glances once more, unsure how to respond to the hero's ultimatum. Lyra looks nervous, her fingers drumming against her thigh. Riven scoffs, "Fine," she says petulantly, already growing impatient. Naia smirks slightly, curiosity piqued by the challenge. Elaine hesitates before nodding slowly, her expression guarded but resigned. Selene sighs heavily, steeling herself for whatever Grey may ask. Finally, she speaks. "Very well, hero.

Riven glares at the hero as she answers, "No. We weren't hired to kill you." Lyra nods in agreement, her expression carefully neutral. Elaine says nothing, maintaining her guarded demeanor, while Naia studies Grey intently from beneath lowered lashes. Selene watches them all carefully, waiting for a reaction to the question.

The others exchange glances as the scale begins to move ever so slightly. Riven scowls, clearly unsettled by this display of power. Lyra's expression turns nervous, her gaze flicking away from the scale and back to Grey. Elaine maintains her impassive demeanor, but a hint of unease creeps into her posture. Naia, however, seems intrigued by the development. Selene watches them all carefully, her expression unreadable as she tries to gauge their reactions.