Wrath of the Chosen

As the last remnants of the Cornucopia faded into the distance, the group found themselves in a clearing surrounded by tall trees, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. The sun hung low in the sky, casting elongated shadows over the forest floor. The remnants of their harrowing escape still clung to them, adrenaline slowly giving way to exhaustion.

"Okay, let's regroup and see what we have," Damien said, trying to maintain a sense of calm amidst the chaos. He surveyed the surroundings, noting the lush vegetation and the sound of rustling leaves, but his heart raced as he glanced at Trevor and Angela, both unconscious on the ground.

"Can you believe we actually made it out of there?" Ian said, shaking his head in disbelief, attempting to lighten the mood as he rifled through his pockets. He wore a sleek, dark wetsuit that seemed both absurd and oddly fitting after their chaotic ordeal.

"I still can't wrap my head around it," Courtney added, her voice shaky as she knelt beside Angela. "But we can't forget Trevor and Angela. We need to bring them back to consciousness."

"Right," Damien said, concern etching deeper lines into his forehead as he knelt down beside Trevor. "They were hit hard by that explosion. We can't just leave them."

Noah, searching his own wetsuit, suddenly paused, looking at his wrist. "Uh, guys? There's a number on my suit."

"What do you mean?" Olivia asked, momentarily distracted by the commotion. But when she looked closer, confusion washed over her as she realized both Trevor and Angela lay unconscious, their faces pale against the vibrant green of the forest.

As if on cue, a bright holographic projection emerged from the device embedded in Noah's wetsuit, displaying the number 3 in bold, glowing letters. The others looked at each other, their expressions shifting from confusion to curiosity.

"Whoa! That's cool!" Keith exclaimed, his eyes wide with fascination. "Can I try?"

"Go for it," Noah encouraged, tilting his wrist so Keith could get a better look.

When Keith examined his own suit, he felt the same device embedded in the fabric. With a focused thought, the same number 3 projected above his wrist.

"Looks like we're all synced up," Ian said, glancing around the group. "But why do some of us have a 3 and others have a 2?"

This time, an uneasy silence fell over the group. As if in response to the question, Trevor stirred slightly, groaning as he tried to push himself up from the ground. "What happened?" he mumbled, blinking against the fading light.

"You took quite a hit, but you're safe now," Noah assured him, relief flooding his voice as he rushed to Trevor's side. "We all made it out. Just focus on waking up."

But as Trevor struggled to sit up, Angela remained motionless nearby, and the group turned their attention to her.

"Guys, we have to do something," Damien said, his worry mounting. "We can't leave them like this."

"Let's try splashing some water on them," Amanda suggested, looking at Noah. "Do you have any?"

"Yeah, I've got some in my pack," Noah replied, rifling through his belongings. He quickly retrieved a water bottle and handed it to Amanda.

With a determined nod, Amanda poured a small amount of water over Trevor's face, hoping to rouse him. "Come on, Trevor. Wake up!"

Trevor stirred again, his eyelids fluttering, but he didn't fully regain consciousness. The others held their breath, watching intently as his breaths became more even, yet shallow.

"I think he's coming to," Courtney said, brushing a strand of hair from Trevor's forehead, her heart pounding in her chest. "But we need to check on Angela, too."