The world had ended once. Or so it seemed. When Dana and Marty watched the earth crack beneath the weight of the Old Gods, humanity’s story was supposed to be over. Yet from ruin, something survived. Deep beneath the rubble of the abandoned Facility, a new order of scientists and occultists rose, determined to restore balance by rebuilding the “Ritual.” Their logic was simple: if gods could be appeased once with blood and sacrifice, then perhaps they could be restrained again. And so another cabin was chosen—identical, isolated, and waiting—its walls wired with hidden cameras, its cellar packed with cursed relics. But this time, the stakes were not just for one group of victims, but for the survival of what remained of the world itself.
The new victims came unknowingly, drawn to the cabin by promises of a weekend escape from the chaos of a fractured society. Five strangers—an athlete, a scholar, a skeptic, a dreamer, and a survivor—found themselves together by fate’s cruel hand. Their laughter echoed hollowly in the woods, masking the silent hum of the Facility far below. Behind glass screens, the technicians placed bets once more, their charts filled with monsters, demons, and horrors waiting to be unleashed. But something was different. The gods had tasted rebellion once, and their hunger now was not for ritualized order but for chaos. The relics in the cellar began to stir on their own, as if choosing their victims, as if the cycle no longer belonged to men but to the darkness itself.
When night fell, the woods erupted. The strangers unleashed not one terror but many: revenants crawling from the earth, wolves with eyes like molten fire, and faceless wraiths drifting between the trees. The Facility scrambled, alarms blaring as their carefully calibrated system spun out of control. Monsters poured not only from the cabin’s cellar but from dimensions long sealed. Trapped between a failing Facility and a forest alive with nightmares, the new survivors were forced to face the truth: they were no longer pawns in a ritual, but soldiers in a war between humanity and gods that had awakened. With every scream, the ground trembled, and the gods’ colossal silhouettes began to move beneath the earth once more.
In the final act, the survivors turned the ritual against itself. Descending into the heart of the Facility, they unleashed every monster into the complex, turning the underground maze into a blood-soaked battlefield. Screens shattered, control rooms collapsed, and the gods themselves rose through the cracks, roaring their fury into the night. But instead of submitting, humanity fought back—armed with relics, forbidden knowledge, and the defiance of those who refused to kneel. As dawn bled across the horizon, the cabin stood in ruins, the woods ablaze, and the gods wounded but not gone. The survivors limped into the light, knowing they had not saved the world, only bought it time. For in the shadows beyond the trees, the Old Gods still stirred, waiting for the day humanity’s courage faltered and the cycle of sacrifice began anew.
