A suffocating sense of dread washed over me as I approached the massive translucent screen of the Portal, its blankness mocking my desperate search for Beatrix. My heart sank as I realised she had vanished before my eyes, leaving me burdened with guilt and an agonising void. I frantically scanned the screen, my fingers trembling, but it offered no answers, only a haunting emptiness that echoed my own despair.

Karen's concerned face appeared beside me, her voice gentle. "Kain, your leg is bleeding," she pointed out, her worry etched on her features.

I glanced down, the sight of blood seeping through the bandages amplifying my weariness. With a heavy sigh, I limped over to the base of a sandy hill and collapsed, my strength drained, unable to stand any longer.

"Come on, Kain. We should head back to camp," Karen urged, attempting to pull me up.

Determined to wait for Beatrix's return, I shook my head stubbornly, refusing to budge.

Karen sighed, her expression reflecting resignation. "Fine, but I'm going to bring Glenda and some supplies back to look after that wound," she said, leaving me to wait alone at the base of the hill.

Time crawled agonisingly slow as I sat there, trapped in a vortex of my own thoughts. Adjusting the bandages on my leg, I tried to distract myself, but my mind incessantly circled back to Beatrix and Luke, the weight of guilt and failure bearing down on me like a relentless burden.

Just as despair threatened to consume me, Karen returned, her presence a small lifeline amidst the overwhelming emptiness.

"Where's Glenda?" I asked, hoping for some sense of reassurance.

"Kain," she began, concern etched on her face. "Glenda, Charity, and Jamie have all left the camp. They've gone portal pirate hunting."

Shock rippled through me, my brow furrowing with confusion. "Glenda's gone with them?" I questioned, struggling to comprehend the situation.

"Paul didn't seem like he had much say in the matter," Karen replied with a heavy sigh, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the bandage.

A surge of frustration mingled with worry as I grappled with the absence of our only doctor. "You mean to tell me that I have a gaping hole in my leg and our only doctor has left us?" I voiced my disbelief, the weight of the situation sinking in. "Why would she do that?"

Karen stood silently, her eyes locked on the bandage in her hands, uncertainty shadowing her features. "I don't know," she answered softly.

"But here," Karen said, kneeling beside me, determination in her voice. "I've brought some fresh bandages. Let's get your leg cleaned up."

Reluctantly, I nodded, acknowledging the necessity of the task.

Karen quickly and efficiently removed the bloodied bandages, her touch gentle yet firm.

A voice echoed in my mind, Clivilius's unwanted presence unsettling me. There's always a choice, Kain Jeffries, the voice taunted. I shuddered involuntarily, trying to push aside the unwelcome thoughts that threatened to unravel my fragile optimism.

"It's not looking great," Karen commented, her touch meticulous as she cleaned the gash.

Ignoring the tormenting voice, I mustered false confidence. "I'll be fine," I assured Karen, hoping to convince myself as well. "Once I get crutches, I'll be able to walk properly."

Deep down, I knew my optimism was a fragile facade. Fear crept in, fuelled by the thought of Clivilius, or Clive, manipulating me to bring Chris to the lagoon again. The dread churned my stomach, a gnawing reminder of the horrors I desperately sought to escape.

Sensing my discomfort and anxiety, Karen finished bandaging my leg with a sense of urgency. Her eyes held a mixture of sympathy and concern as she looked at me, her unspoken desire to stay and talk hanging in the air.

"I'll be back soon," Karen assured me, patting my shoulder reassuringly. "I have to get some things done back at camp, are you sure you'll be okay here by yourself?"

I nodded, attempting to project strength, but inside, a profound sense of loneliness and isolation settled upon me. Watching Karen walk away, leaving me alone with my thoughts and fears, the silence became stifling, the weight of Uncle Jamie's absence and the daunting reality of my solitude pressing down on me.

The throbbing pain in my leg served as a constant reminder of the unfortunate events that had brought me to this desolate moment. Sitting there, I felt as if I were trapped at the bottom of a deep hole, devoid of direction or hope. The climb out seemed insurmountable, and an overwhelming sense of despair and hopelessness threatened to engulf me entirely.

Finally, the Portal burst into a kaleidoscope of vibrant colours, capturing my attention and filling me with hope.

"Hey, Beatrix!" I called out, a surge of excitement making me attempt to stand. However, a sharp pang of pain shot through my leg, forcing me back onto the ground.

Undeterred, I waved eagerly at Beatrix, but she remained at a distance, waving back as though mistaking my waving for a mere hello. Disappearing into the swirling hues, Beatrix vanished, leaving me bewildered and longing for answers.

"That was really odd," I muttered to myself, perplexed by Beatrix's fleeting appearance and departure. Confusion mingled with a sense of frustration as I yearned to catch her before she slipped away again.

Determined to seize the opportunity when Beatrix emerged once more, I mustered the strength to rise to my feet, cautiously making my way toward the Portal.

Just as I neared, the Portal burst to life again, and Beatrix stepped out.

"Beatrix!" I exclaimed, reaching out for her arm, only to realise that I was still far from reaching her. "I need crutches," I blurted, determined to make my request before she could escape once more.

"You'll have to talk to Luke," Beatrix replied, dismissing me with a wave of her hand. In her other hand, she dropped a sleeping bag by the Portal.

Ignoring the swirling dust that rose from the bag's landing, I persisted, "But my leg," hobbling closer to Beatrix's side.

Clearly unimpressed by the interruption, Beatrix glared at me. "Looks like it's bleeding," she pointed out, her words sharp and direct.

Glancing down, I noticed a trickle of fresh blood staining my leg. "Not again," I mumbled, my body tensing as I tried to ignore the nagging presence in the depths of my mind, reminding me of the inevitable choice to aid Clive if I wanted my leg to heal.

"You should probably go and visit Glenda," Beatrix suggested.

My eyes widened, startled by the mention of Glenda. "Glenda's gone," I informed her.

A visible shudder ran through Beatrix's shoulders. "Gone? Is she..." Beatrix hesitated, her voice trailing off. "Dead?"

"Oh, no," I quickly reassured her, almost chuckling at the idea. "She went with Charity and Uncle Jamie to hunt the Portal pirate."

Beatrix shook her head briefly. "You'll still have to ask Luke for crutches," she replied nonchalantly, seemingly unfazed by the news of Glenda's departure. "Sorry."

"Beatrix," I tried to persuade her, but once again, she vanished before me.

"Fuck's sake," I grumbled, frustrated by the elusive nature of our interactions.

Reluctantly, I waited in silence as Beatrix made multiple trips through the Portal, carrying an assortment of camping supplies. Amidst throwing her occasional puppy-dog eyes in an attempt to sway her, I couldn't help but pay attention to the items she brought. "If only we had some of this stuff last night," I muttered, holding up a large camping light, momentarily distracted by thoughts of missed opportunities.

Suddenly, Beatrix halted in her tracks, camping gear in hand, her gaze fixed on something behind me. Following her line of sight, I spotted Paul approaching. Concern etched across Beatrix's face.

"You'll have to ask Luke for crutches," Beatrix informed Paul preemptively, not allowing him a chance to speak.

Paul turned his attention to me, seeking an explanation. I shrugged in defeat, feeling exhausted by the repetition. If I hear Beatrix say that one more time...

Returning his gaze to Beatrix, Paul questioned, "Have you seen Luke?"

"No," Beatrix replied after a brief pause. "I haven't seen him since he passed us the first time I arrived here."

Paul furrowed his brow, rubbing his chin in contemplation. Finally, he spoke. "Beatrix, I need you to find us a couple of caravans or motorhomes. They will make our living and sleeping arrangements a little more comfortable and also, hopefully, provide us with more safety than the tents currently do."

I was taken aback, Paul's request and decisive manner catching me off guard. The idea seemed to come out of nowhere, and yet, I couldn't help but consider the advantages of having a caravan instead of a tent, embracing a glimmer of optimism.

"But I don't have enough money for such an expense," Beatrix protested, throwing her hands up in the air. "How am I supposed to get them?"

Frowning, I realised she had a point. Caravans would undoubtedly be a significant expense. But if we can't afford caravans, what else can't we afford? The thought sent a chill down my spine, raising unsettling questions.

Undeterred by Beatrix's concerns, Paul remained unfazed. "You have a Portal, a place of escape where nobody can reach you," he suggested, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "I'm sure you have the creative abilities to pull the mission off."

Beatrix narrowed her eyes suspiciously, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "A mission, you say?" she inquired, unable to conceal her intrigue.

Please, Beatrix, accept it, I silently pleaded, hoping she would take on the challenge.

"Sure, I'll do it," Beatrix agreed, her smile breaking through uncontainably.

Yes! I cheered inwardly, dabbing at the blood that dribbled down my leg again.

Suddenly, Paul's expression darkened, and my heart sank. What's wrong now? I wondered anxiously.

"By the way, where's Duke?" Paul asked Beatrix.

An unsettling pause hung in the air before Beatrix responded resolutely. "What do you want first, Duke or caravans?"

After a few ums and ahs, Paul replied, "Get them in whatever order works best for you. I don't want to be too prescriptive or restrictive."

Beatrix nodded briskly, and soon after completing the delivery of camping supplies, she left Clivilius.

"How's the leg?" Paul turned his attention to me, his voice filled with concern.

"Could be worse," I replied, aware that if I were to stand a chance at beating Clive at its own game, I needed to maintain a positive outlook.

"If you're going to hang around here for a while and wait for Luke, you might want to ask him to bring us another doctor," Paul suggested, a gentle sigh escaping him.

"You don't think she'll come back?" I stammered, searching for some semblance of reassurance.

Paul shrugged, his eyes filled with uncertainty. "I honestly don't know. She's determined that her father is alive here in Clivilius somewhere. I doubt that she'll stop looking for him now."

"But..." I faltered, struggling to find the right words. "But how is that even possible? That her father is here?"

Paul chuckled softly as he responded, "Charity, shadow panthers, and Portal pirates... I'm not sure anything is beyond the realm of possibility here."

Puzzled, I furrowed my brow, contemplating Paul's words. Has Paul experienced the silent voice of Clivilius? or Clive? I corrected myself. Are they truly one and the same? I wondered, my head tilting sideways in a mix of anxiety and curiosity. Or are they separate entities, connected yet distinct? The mysteries of Clivilius seemed to deepen with each passing moment.