The dawn mist clung low over the sprawling forest as Ryan Ashworth adjusted the unfamiliar weight of the assault rifle in his hands. The weapon was slick with morning dew, his breath coming out in shallow puffs.
Standing in front of him with her arms crossed, Maggi looked like a silent phantom—her emerald green eyes sharp and unreadable, her posture cold and commanding.
"You are to hold this position," Maggi said, voice as indifferent as ever. "For twenty-four hours."
Ryan's fingers tightened around the rifle.
"No food. No water. No movement beyond a five-meter radius. If you fall asleep, you fail. If you lower your weapon, you fail. If you lose focus, you fail."
Her words fell on him like hammer blows.
Maggi stepped forward, pressing a small radio into his free hand. "If you collapse... this is your only mercy."
She didn't wait for a reply. Turning sharply, she disappeared into the trees, vanishing into the mist as if she had never been there at all.
Ryan took a deep breath, settling into position.His boots sank slightly into the damp earth. The rifle grew heavier with every passing minute.
And soon enough, the hours began to drag like iron chains.
The Watcher in the Mist
By midday, the sun was a merciless weight overhead.Sweat stung Ryan's eyes. His shoulders ached from holding the rifle at ready, muscles trembling under the strain.
Yet he stayed sharp.He remembered the prickle on the back of his neck — someone was watching him.
It had to be Maggi.
He smirked grimly through the pain, recalling a past moment in training —when he had failed to complete his thousand required rounds of shooting one grueling day.Maggi hadn't scolded him.She had merely added the unfinished rounds to the next day's count without a word of pity.
Two thousand rounds the next day.
Her merciless, emotionless standards never wavered.
And now, hidden somewhere among the trees, Maggi's emerald eyes were probably locked onto him — watching if he would break again.
He wouldn't. Not this time.
The Breaking Point
By nightfall, the forest was a realm of chilling sounds —howling winds, cracking branches, distant animal calls.
Ryan's stomach was a knot of hunger, his lips cracked from thirst.His body cried out for rest, for surrender.
But his mind stayed sharp, honed by pain and stubbornness.Maggi's expectations loomed over him larger than any fear.
When dawn finally painted the sky in bruised pinks and grays, Ryan was still standing — the rifle steady in his aching hands, the muscles of his arms spasming slightly but never falling.
A faint crunch of boots on dirt sounded behind him.
Ryan stiffened.
Maggi emerged from the trees, her cold face unreadable.She didn't speak immediately. She circled him slowly, inspecting, evaluating.Only after a long pause did she offer a short, sharp nod — a rare, powerful reward from her.
"Acceptable," she said.
Ryan nearly collapsed from the wave of exhaustion that hit him. But he stayed on his feet.
Maggi's emerald eyes glinted faintly."Now," she said, stepping closer, "we begin your real survival training."
Part Two: The Survival Tactics
There was no time for rest.
After allowing him one small cup of water and a hard piece of bread, Maggi immediately led him deeper into the forest.
For the next days, she taught him the brutal basics of survival:
How to start a fire with nothing but friction and dry bark.
How to trap rabbits using hand-made snares.
How to purify river water using stones and sand.
How to skin and prepare small animals for meat.
How to fashion a crude shelter from leaves, branches, and mud.
She demonstrated each method with ruthless efficiency, offering no explanations beyond the essentials.If Ryan failed to understand, she simply watched coldly as he struggled and figured it out himself.
At one point, she left him alone with nothing but a knife — no compass, no food, no map — telling him to return to the camp within three days.
Failure was not an option.
The Return
When Ryan stumbled back into camp three days later, mud-streaked, bloodied from thorns, exhausted but alive —Maggi was waiting.
She looked him over impassively.
"You survived," she said simply.
Ryan managed a grin through cracked lips. "Was there ever a doubt?"
Maggi tilted her head slightly, the ghost of a smirk threatening to cross her cold lips — but it never quite appeared.
Instead, she merely turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Ryan standing there battered but victorious.
The real training had begun.
And Ryan Ashworth was still standing.
The heat of the sun hammered down mercilessly as Ryan Ashworth stumbled through the dense thicket, sweat pouring down his temples. The survival training had shifted overnight. What Maggi once delivered as isolated lessons had now blended into brutal, real-world tests.
Today, it wasn't just about building fires or purifying water. Today, the forest itself was the enemy.
Somewhere, hidden within the dense green maze, hostile forces awaited him — ambushes, traps, dangers crafted by Maggi herself.
Ryan knew one thing with certainty .She would not help him.
The first trap came silently.
Ryan had just crouched beside a stream, gathering water with a hollowed gourd, when a thin tripwire snapped taut against his boot.
He barely had time to throw himself backward before a weighted log swung from the trees, slamming into the ground where he'd just been kneeling.
Heart pounding, Ryan scrambled to his feet, scanning the forest.
Maggi was out there somewhere, watching. No help would come.
If he failed, he would fail alone.
Gritting his teeth, he pushed deeper into the forest, wary of every snapped twig and rustle of leaves.
An hour later, Ryan's instincts screamed at him.
He dove sideways just in time to avoid a net hidden under the leaves, rigged to snare him.His arm scraped against a sharp branch, drawing blood, but he didn't stop.
Every trap he dodged was another silent nod from the invisible Maggi.
Another message: Adapt, or die.
Maggi has always said this world is "Survival of the Strongest".
By midday, Ryan was moving like a shadow through the woods — low, cautious, every sense heightened.
He made makeshift weapons: a sharpened branch as a spear, stones arranged in pockets for throwing.
Every hour, he stopped briefly to check his surroundings, build a signal fire, purify water, consume whatever small prey he could catch —rabbits, squirrels, snakes.
Nothing was wasted. Nothing was taken for granted.
He remembered Maggi's cold voice from training:
"The enemy won't wait for you to be ready, Ryan. They will kill you while you think."
The sun dipped lower, shadows stretching long across the forest floor.
Ryan crouched beside a tree, breathing shallowly, when he heard it —soft footsteps, too deliberate to be animals.
Before he could react, a figure charged at him from the trees — masked, armed with a knife.
Adrenaline flooded Ryan's veins.
No hesitation. No second-guessing.
He sidestepped the thrust, slamming his sharpened spear into the attacker's side.The man grunted, stumbled — but kept coming.
Ryan grappled with him, remembering Maggi's brutal close-quarters combat lessons.Knees, elbows, throat — no mercy.
The struggle was ugly, violent, desperate — but in the end, Ryan slammed the attacker's head against a tree root hard enough to knock him unconscious.
Panting, Ryan stood over the body, chest heaving.
His hands were trembling — but not from fear.
From victory. H has not killed him because he knows that he was probably arranged by Maggi.
From the tree line, Maggi watched silently.
Her emerald green eyes betrayed no pride, no approval.
Only cold observation.
She had seen everything — how Ryan had reacted, how he had survived.If he had failed, she wouldn't have lifted a finger.
It was never her job to protect him.
It was her job to turn him into someone who could protect himself.
When Ryan finally staggered back into camp near midnight, dirt and blood staining his clothes, Maggi stood waiting by the fire.
She offered him a water canteen wordlessly.
Ryan took it with a grunt of thanks, collapsing onto the ground.
Maggi stared down at him, her red hair catching the firelight like burning threads.
"You survived," she said simply.
Ryan managed a weak smirk.
"I had a good teacher," he rasped.
For a moment — just a heartbeat — something flickered in Maggi's emerald eyes.
Approval? Respect?
Whatever it was, it was gone in an instant.
"Get some sleep," she said coldly." Tomorrow will be worse."
And with that, she turned and disappeared into the darkness, leaving Ryan staring after her, already bracing himself for the next trial.
Because Maggi was not done with him yet.
Not even close.
.