New Threat

As the realization of the approaching danger settled in, the group began to move. Panic still lingered on the edges of their expressions, but Harry's strange antics had given them the clarity they needed to act. They started running, moving as quickly as the uneven terrain would allow.

Harry, running alongside his classmates, kept glancing back at the advancing figures. Above their heads, in glowing red letters, the name Endwalker hovered ominously.

The color alone sent a chill down his spine. "Red names," he thought. "Almost always means danger in the stories. Strong monsters. Figures."

The Endwalkers, hulking and slow, seemed to be in no rush, but that only made them more terrifying. Each lumbering step they took felt like a drumbeat counting down to something inevitable.

"Come on! Keep moving!" one of the teachers called out. It was Mr. Thompson, a tall, burly man with a stern face who taught Physical Education. Harry recognized him instantly—hard to miss a man who could probably bench press most of the students.

Next to him was Ms. Reed, the biology teacher, her glasses askew as she tried to keep up with Mr. Thompson's pace.

Behind them, Mr. Avery, the maths teacher, was looking around frantically, as if calculating escape routes. Finally, Ms. Carter, the English teacher, was urging a few lagging students to keep up, her voice calm but firm.

As they ran, they heard more sounds of movement to their left. It was another group, also running, their faces mirroring the same fear and confusion. They seemed to be from other classes while some of his classmates were among them.

"What's going on?" one of the new arrivals shouted. "Did you guys get attacked too?"

Harry and his classmates exchanged quick glances. The classmates on the other side quickly joined them, exchanging worried and fearful but still relieved glances.

Mr. Thompson, still running, replied, "Yes! We've got monsters behind us! Big ones! We need to find a way out!"

The leader of the other group, a tall, thin man in a tweed jacket with a nervous expression, nodded. Harry recognized him immediately and groaned inwardly.

It was Mr. Greene, his least favorite teacher from history class. Mr. Greene had a way of making the most exciting tales of the past sound like paint drying.

"They are on our side too!" Mr. Greene panted, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "We really need to move faster. They're flanking us!"

Harry couldn't help but chuckle to himself as they continued to run. "Well, at least he seems better at this than history," he thought wryly, trying to lighten his own spirits amidst the chaos.

But his brief moment of humor was cut short as a new threat emerged.

Swish-!

Swish-!

Without warning, a barrage of small, crude arrows began to rain down on them from the trees above. The arrows were haphazardly crafted but dangerous nonetheless, their tips crudely sharpened stone, bone, or wood. They came from all directions, embedding themselves in the ground and nearby trees, narrowly missing the group.

"M-Monsters!" someone shouted. The cries of terror from those who had been hit or nearly hit filled the air.

Harry's heart raced as he looked up, trying to see where the arrows were coming from. It was impossible to pinpoint the attackers—there were too many, hidden amongst the thick foliage of the towering trees.

Mr. Thompson reacted quickly, shouting, "Take cover! Into the trees, move now!" He grabbed a nearby student who had frozen in fear and pushed them behind a thick trunk.

Ms. Reed, Mr. Avery, and Ms. Carter were doing the same, herding the students toward any semblance of cover. Mr. Greene, looking paler than usual, was crouched behind a large rock, waving frantically for his own students to follow.

Harry ducked behind a fallen log, pulling a classmate down with him just in time to avoid another volley of arrows. His mind was racing, trying to make sense of this new attack. "Are these Endwalkers too?" he wondered, but then shook his head. "No, this is different. They're smaller, quicker… like some sort of ambush unit."

He risked a glance over the log, squinting into the shadows above. Through the dense branches, he caught glimpses of small, lithe figures, darting between the trees with alarming speed.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath. "This just keeps getting better and better."

The forest was alive with the movement now, the Endwalkers behind them and the hidden archers above. They were surrounded, trapped in a deadly game of cat and mouse with no clear way out.

Harry's mind raced as he considered their options. They couldn't stay here—they'd be picked off one by one. But running blindly into the forest was just as dangerous.

They needed a plan, and fast.

"Listen up!" Mr. Thompson's voice boomed over the chaos. "We need to push through! Head towards the clearing up ahead—stay low and keep moving! We'll figure it out from there!"

Harry frowned thinking wasn't it a foolish idea to rush forward without knowing what lay ahead? But as more arrows rained down, he realized they didn't have much of a choice. They had to move.

"Stick together!" Ms. Reed shouted, adjusting her glasses as she peeked from behind a tree. "Stay close to the trees and keep your heads down!"

Harry nodded, clutching the arm of his classmate beside him—a girl named Lily. She was pale with fear, her hands trembling as she crouched low. "Come on," he whispered, trying to sound braver than he felt. "We've got this."

They moved in a crouch-run, following Mr. Thompson's lead, dodging the arrows that seemed to come from every direction. Harry could hear the sharp thud of arrows hitting wood and the occasional pained cry of someone who wasn't quick enough. He tried to ignore the sound, focusing instead on the ground in front of him, on not tripping over the exposed roots and fallen branches that littered the forest floor.

Mr. Greene was just ahead, still waving his arms frantically, but his eyes were sharp, scanning the path ahead. Harry couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of grudging respect for the man—he might be terrible at teaching history, but he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders when it came to survival.

Suddenly, there was a loud crack from the left, and Harry's heart leapt into his throat. A tree branch above them splintered and fell, forcing the group to scatter in all directions. Harry dived to the side, landing hard on the ground as the branch crashed down where he'd been standing just moments before.

"Harry!"