The Same Mark

Liam stepped out of his room just as Vera had instructed.

The door slid shut behind him with a soft click.

For a moment, he stood still.

The corridor stretched in both directions, clean and brightly lit. The walls were painted in neutral colors, making the place feel less like a prison and more like an ordinary apartment complex.

Almost.

The difference was the atmosphere.

Every person walking through the hallway wore the same expression.

Confusion.

Curiosity.

Caution.

No one knew exactly what to expect.

Liam slipped his hands into his pockets and began walking.

As he moved down the corridor, he passed several other Marked who had also left their rooms.

Some were talking among themselves.

Others kept to themselves.

One man was staring out at a nearby window.

Another was studying the building's directory map.

Everyone was trying to make sense of their new reality.

Liam glanced toward the large windows lining the hallway.

Outside, the view was breathtaking.

Far below stretched a section of Veritas Island.

Roads connected various districts.

Forests covered large portions of the landscape.

In the distance, other residential towers stood proudly against the horizon.

Sixteen of them.

Massive structures positioned around the island like silent guardians.

Each one houses a different group of Marked.

Liam's gaze lingered on them.

"So there are really that many of us..."

The realization felt strange.

Hundreds of participants.

Hundreds of strangers.

All brought to the same island.

All forced into the same game.

A game where not everyone would survive.

His expression darkened slightly.

Then he continued walking.

Eventually, the corridor opened into a spacious common area.

The room was already crowded.

Groups of newcomers occupied tables, couches, and lounge spaces.

Conversations filled the air.

Questions.

Introductions.

Speculations.

Liam immediately noticed something.

Everyone was trying to figure out who could be trusted.

Some were obvious.

People who talked too much.

People who revealed too much.

People who desperately wanted allies.

Others were harder to read.

The quiet ones.

The observers.

The people listening instead of speaking.

Liam's eyes briefly scanned the room.

Habit.

Nothing more.

At least, that's what he told himself.

He chose an empty seat near the edge of the lounge and sat down.

From there, he could see nearly everyone without drawing attention to himself.

A useful position.

As he settled into the chair, several nearby conversations drifted into his ears.

"...you think the Patrons are actually watching us?"

"...the AI said dangerous zones cover almost half the island..."

"...there has to be a way to leave, right?"

"...I'm telling you, this has to be some kind of experiment..."

Liam listened silently.

Most of the theories were useless.

Some were ridiculous.

A few were interesting.

Then he remembered something Vera had said before he left.

"Information is the most valuable currency on this island."

At the time, he had dismissed it as another generic piece of advice.

Now he wasn't so sure.

His gaze swept across the room once more.

Every person here was collecting information.

Whether they realized it or not.

And somewhere beyond this building, hundreds of other Marked were doing exactly the same thing.

Like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Liam leaned back in his chair. The first round hadn't officially begun. Yet he could already feel the game moving.

Slowly.

Quietly.

His gaze drifted across the lounge once more, studying the people around him.

Some were introducing themselves.

Some were nervously discussing the island.

Others were already forming small groups.

Liam observed them all in silence.

Then suddenly— A figure walked past him.

For a brief moment, his view of the room was completely blocked.

Liam instinctively looked up.

At the same time, the person passing by turned her head.

Their eyes met.

Both of them froze.

"..."

"..."

The girl's eyes widened.

Liam did the same.

Neither of them spoke for several seconds.

The girl stopped walking entirely.

"Kesha...?"

The name escaped Liam before he could stop himself.

Standing a few feet away was Kesha Ester.

The same Kesha Ester he had known back in tenth grade. The same classmate who used to sit only a few rows away from him. The same girl who was somehow always involved whenever Gianna was around.

Out of all the people he had expected to see on Veritas Island— She wasn't one of them.

Kesha stared at him as if she had seen a ghost.

"Liam?" Her voice carried the same disbelief he felt.

For a moment, the noise of the lounge seemed to disappear.

The conversations.

The laughter.

The endless questions from confused Marked.

Everything faded into the background.

All either of them could focus on was the fact that they had somehow found someone familiar in a place filled with complete strangers.

"You're here?" Kesha finally asked.

Liam let out a short laugh. "I was about to ask you the same thing."

Kesha shook her head as if trying to confirm he was actually real. "This doesn't make any sense."

"No arguments there."

The two continued staring at one another.

The odds of this happening had to be absurdly low. Hundreds of Marked, Sixteen towers, Countless rooms— Yet somehow they had ended up in the same building.

Kesha recovered first.

A relieved smile slowly appeared on her face. "Well..." She crossed her arms.

"At least I know one person here."

Liam nodded. "Looks like it."

For the first time since arriving on the island, the unfamiliar environment felt slightly less alien.

Not safe.

Not comfortable.

Just...

Less unfamiliar.

Kesha glanced around the lounge before looking back at him. "Can I sit?"

Liam gestured toward the empty chair across from him. "Go ahead."

She immediately pulled the chair out and sat down.

Neither of them noticed the surveillance camera mounted high in the corner of the room.

Nor did they notice that, several buildings away, a pair of golden eyes had just shifted toward a different monitor.

Watching.

Observing.

And smiling ever so slightly.

"Ehh?" Gianna leaned forward in her chair, crossing one leg over the other while resting her head against the back of her palm. Her golden eyes narrowed as she stared at the monitor displaying Liam and Kesha. "Seriously?"

Beside her, Jeannette glanced at the screen. "What is it now?"

Gianna pointed at the two Marked sitting across from each other.

Jeannette studied them for a moment.

"Is she one of them?"

A grin slowly spread across Gianna's face.

A grin that immediately made Jeannette suspicious.

"Yes." The grin widened. Then Gianna began laughing, Not loudly, not crazy.

Just the kind of laugh that suggested she had already imagined the disaster that would follow.

"Why did they put them in the same group?"

Jeannette raised an eyebrow. "Is that bad?"

Gianna looked back at the screen.

"The opposite." Her smile somehow became even more dangerous. "They're all doomed."

"..."

"..."

Jeannette decided not to ask.

Experience had taught her that whenever Gianna made a statement like that, the explanation was usually far worse than expected.

Meanwhile, several floors below, Liam and Kesha remained completely unaware that they were being watched.

Kesha leaned back in her chair.

"I still can't believe this."

"Same."

"Out of everyone."

"Out of everyone."

They both spoke at the same time, then immediately laughed.

The tension that had been weighing on them since arriving on the island eased slightly.

Only slightly.

Kesha shook her head. "This feels unreal."

Liam nodded.

"One moment I'm living a normal life."

"The next moment I'm trapped on some survival island."

"With Patrons watching us."

"Don't forget the death games."

"Right. Those too." Kesha groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Thanks for reminding me."

A small smile tugged at Liam's lips.

Then something occurred to him.

"Wait."

Kesha looked up.

"What?"

Liam folded his arms. "Do you remember anything after being brought here?"

The question immediately erased the light mood between them.

Kesha's expression changed.

"..."

She looked down.

Liam noticed it instantly.

"You do, don't you?"

Kesha hesitated.

Then she slowly nodded. "A little."

Liam's eyes narrowed. "A little?"

"It's strange." Kesha pressed her fingers against her temple. "I remember things.

But at the same time..." Her brows furrowed.

"It feels like pieces are missing."

Liam froze.

Because he felt the exact same thing.

"...You too?" Kesha looked up.

His silence was answer enough.

For several seconds, neither spoke.

The noise of the lounge faded into the background.

Both of them were suddenly focused on a realization they hadn't fully acknowledged until now.

Something was wrong with their memories.

Not completely.

Not enough to notice immediately.

But enough to feel.

Enough to bother them.

Liam tried to remember the events leading up to his arrival.

His home.

His school.

His friends.

Most of it was there.

Yet when he attempted to recall the exact moment he had been taken— The memory became blurry.

Like looking through fog.

Fragments surfaced.

A vehicle.

Bright lights.

Voices.

Then nothing.

Kesha was experiencing the same thing.

"I remember being somewhere." She frowned. "I think."

"You think?"

"That's the problem." Kesha shook her head.

"The more I try to remember it, the less clear it becomes."

Liam remained silent.

Because the same thing happened whenever he tried.

It wasn't normal.

It felt as though someone had ripped pages out of a book.

The story still existed.

But parts of it were gone.

Missing.

Or perhaps hidden.

Kesha suddenly blinked. "Wait."

"What?"

"I remember a women."

Liam looked at her.

"A women?"

Kesha pressed her fingers against her forehead.

Her expression twisted with frustration.

"I can't see her face."

"What do you remember?"

"Nothing clear."

The harder she tried to focus, the more distant the memory became.

"I just..." She hesitated. "It feels important."

Liam frowned.

Important.

That was exactly the feeling he had.

Not just with one memory.

With several.

As if certain people and events had been deliberately blurred.

Neither erased completely.

Nor left intact.

Just enough to make them impossible to piece together.

A chill ran down Liam's spine. "What if it wasn't an accident?"

Kesha looked at him.

Neither needed to explain further.

They were thinking the same thing.

What if somebody had altered their memories?

The possibility sounded insane.

Yet compared to everything else they had learned about Veritas Island, it wasn't impossible.

Not anymore.

Kesha slowly leaned back in her chair.

For the first time since they met in the lounge, genuine unease appeared on her face.

"Whatever happened before we got here..."

She muttered. "I don't think we're supposed to remember it."

Liam looked toward the window overlooking the island.

The towering buildings. The distant forests.

The endless landscape stretching beyond the horizon.

Then back at Kesha. "Then maybe that's exactly why we should."

Before Kesha could respond, her eyes suddenly dropped to Liam's right hand.

More specifically— To the back of his palm.

Her expression immediately changed.

"Wait."

Liam blinked. "What?"

Kesha pointed at his hand. "Your mark."

Instinctively, Liam looked down.

The strange symbol was still there.

Burned into the back of his palm as if it had always existed.

He frowned. "What about it?"

Kesha slowly raised her own hand.

The same location.

The back of her palm.

A mark.

Liam wasn't surprised.

Everyone on the island was called a Marked after all.

"Isn't that normal?" he asked. "Everyone here has one."

Kesha immediately shook her head. "No."

Liam frowned. "What do you mean no?"

Instead of answering, Kesha gestured toward the lounge. "Look around."

Confused, Liam followed her gaze.

At first, nothing seemed unusual.

People talking.

People sitting.

People introducing themselves.

Then he noticed their hands.

Several Marked had their palms exposed.

And there was something different about them.

A young man near the coffee machine had a mark displaying:

1.05

Another woman sitting nearby had:

4.04

A third participant passing through the lounge had:

8.09

Different symbols.

Different numbers.

Different design structures.

Liam's eyes narrowed. "...That's not the same."

"Exactly." Kesha leaned forward. "The moment I left my room, I started paying attention to everyone's marks."

Liam looked back at his own hand.

Then hers. Then back at the others.

A strange feeling settled in his stomach.

Because theirs were definitely different.

Not just different numbers, Different classifications, Different identities. Almost as if they belonged to an entirely separate category.

"When did you figure this out?"

"A few hours ago." Kesha lowered her voice.

"And I asked my AI assistant about it."

That immediately caught Liam's attention.

"What did it say?"

Kesha let out an annoyed sigh.

"Nothing useful."

Liam wasn't surprised. The assistants seemed to have a habit of withholding information.

"It wouldn't tell me anything about the Selectors."

"The Selectors?"

Kesha nodded. "Every time I asked directly, it refused to answer."

"So how did you get information?"

A small grin appeared on her face. "I asked a different question."

Liam already had a bad feeling about where this was going. "What question?"

Kesha leaned closer. "I asked how many Marked a Selector chooses."

Liam froze. "...And?"

The grin disappeared.

Her expression became serious.

"The AI answered."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The noise of the lounge continued around them. Yet suddenly, it felt very far away.

Liam could feel his heartbeat quicken.

"What did it say?"

Kesha looked directly into his eyes.

And quietly replied: "Six."

"..."

"..."

Liam stared at her.

Six. Not five. Not ten. Six. The number echoed inside his mind. Slowly. Repeatedly.

Then he looked around the room again.

At the hundreds of strangers.

At the countless marks decorating their hands. And for the first time— A disturbing possibility entered his mind. If a Selector chose six Marked... And if their marks were different from everyone else's... Then perhaps they weren't ordinary participants.

Perhaps somebody had already chosen them. Long before they had ever arrived on Veritas Island.

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