starting soon

He woke to a silence that wasn’t empty.

It was… arranged.

The ceiling above him was smooth, pale, unmarked. Light bled from somewhere unseen, soft and even, like a sky that had forgotten the sun.

He didn’t move at first.

Breath in. Breath out.

Steady.

Alive.

“…I didn’t die.”

The thought arrived without emotion, placed neatly where panic should have been.

Then—

Memory followed.

The door.

The floor.

Her.

His chest tightened again, but this time it wasn’t pain. Just a faint echo, like a ghost of something that had already done its damage.

And then—

The window.

The question.

His hand moving.

“…I accepted.”

Not a dream.

Not a mistake.

A decision.

He sat up.

The room was small. Square. Clean.

Too clean.

A bed beneath him. A table. A shelf lined with books he didn’t recognize. Food arranged with unnatural precision, like it had been placed for display rather than hunger.

No doors.

No windows.

Just walls that felt like they were looking back.

A soft sound.

Like something waking up.

A window unfolded in front of him.

Dark red.

Familiar.

Welcome, Player #7

▶ Tap to view Skills

▶ Tap to view Round 1 Rules & Conditions

His eyes lingered on the number.

Seven.

Not a name.

Not a person.

Just… a position.

His hand rose slowly.

No hesitation this time.

He touched the screen.

The interface shifted.

Lines of text cascaded down, sharp and deliberate.

[ Skill Information ]

Primary Ability: ██████████

Status: Locked / Partially Restricted

Condition: Progress Required

The words were there—

And not there.

Like something had been cut out of reality itself.

He stared.

Longer than necessary.

“…so even now… you’re hiding things.”

No anger. No frustration.

Just observation.

The screen responded with silence.

He moved to the next section.

[ Round 1: Elimination Trial ]

Objective:

Engage in combat with other players using abilities and chosen weapons

Win Condition:

Achieve at least one elimination

Selection Outcome:

Minimum 50 players will advance

Failure Condition:

Death

Simple.

Clean.

Cruel.

His gaze didn’t waver.

Didn’t question.

Didn’t resist.

“…so that’s the cost.”

A soft click echoed through the room.

The wall behind him shifted.

Not opening—

Peeling.

Like something alive making way.

A figure stood beyond it.

Tall. Covered. Face hidden behind a mask that showed nothing and suggested even less.

A guard.

“Player #7. Follow.”

The voice was flat. Mechanical. Not quite

human.

He stood.

No questions.

No hesitation.

The hallway stretched long and narrow, lit by the same artificial glow. Other doors lined the walls, sealed shut, each one holding someone

just like him.

Or something like him.

They walked.

Steps echoing in quiet rhythm.

Then—

The space opened

A massive hall unfolded before him.

High ceilings. Endless floor.

And people.

Dozens.

No—

Hundreds.

Some looked normal.

Some didn’t.

A man with skin too pale, veins faintly glowing beneath the surface.

A woman whose eyes reflected light like glass.

A figure standing too still, too straight… like it had learned how to be human instead of being born as one.

Not all of them belonged to the same world.

That much was clear.

A low murmur filled the air.

Fear. Confusion. Anger.

All mixing into something unstable.

At the far end—

A stage.

And on it—

Someone stood.

Tall.

Still.

Wrapped in dark clothing that seemed to absorb the light around it.

Their face was hidden.

Not by shadow.

But by something that refused to be seen.

They raised a hand.

Silence fell instantly.

Not naturally.

Forced.

“Welcome.”

The voice echoed across the hall, smooth and distant, like it wasn’t coming from a throat.

“You are all here for a reason.”

A pause.

“As simple as it is… you desire something.”

The air tightened.

“And here—”

The figure continued,

“—desires are granted.”

A flicker.

Something colder beneath the words.

“But everything comes with a cost.”

The room seemed to shrink.

“If you fail…”

A slight tilt of the head.

“You die.”

For a second—

No one reacted

Then—

“Wait!”

A man stepped forward from the crowd, panic spilling out of him.

“This wasn’t part of the deal! The system didn’t say anything about dying! Let me out! I don’t want to—”

It happened before the sentence could finish.

A sharp sound.

Like pressure snapping.

Then—

Silence.

The man’s body remained standing for half a second longer.

Then his head—

Was gone.

Not cut.

Not broken.

Gone.

A red mist lingered where it had been.

Then faded.

His body collapsed.

Empty.

No one screamed.

Not yet.

Because shock hadn’t released them.

On the stage—

The figure lowered their hand.

A thin trail of smoke curled from their fingers.

“Anyone else,” they said calmly,

“wishes to leave without playing?”

Silence answered.

Heavy. Absolute.

“Good.”

They turned slightly.

“If you have questions, consult your window.”

A brief pause.

“It will serve as your assistant… for now.”

The words settled like dust.

“And now—”

The figure’s voice sharpened just slightly.

“Choose your weapon.”

A ripple passed through the hall.

Windows appeared.

All at once.

Red.

Watching.

Waiting.

In front of Player #7—

The screen opened.

Options began to form.

Blades.

Guns.

Strange weapons that didn’t belong to any known world.

Things that looked like they shouldn’t exist.

Reflections of violence.

Given shape.

His eyes moved slowly across them.

Carefully.

Silently.

Around him, fear turned into urgency.

People rushed.

Panicked.

Grabbing whatever they thought might keep them alive.

But he didn’t move.

Not yet.

His gaze remained steady.

Empty.

Calculating.

Because somewhere deep inside—

Beneath the grief.

Beneath the silence.

Something had already changed.

And whatever he chose next—

Would decide more than just survival.

It would decide

what he becomes.

To be continued.

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