11:58 PM.
Tama stood across the street from the address sent to him—an old apartment complex, long condemned. Half the windows were shattered, and the air smelled like mildew and burnt wires. His hoodie was soaked from the drizzle, and the cold wind bit into his skin.
He had followed the rules.
No phone. No laptop. No tracker.
Just himself.
And a mind full of fear and questions.
Why him?
Who was behind this?
Was Risa still alive?
Why did the voice in the message sound… so familiar?
The digital clock on a nearby billboard struck 12:00 AM.
The game began again.
Tama crossed the street and pushed open the door. It groaned on rusted hinges. Inside was darkness thick enough to choke on, the air heavy with dust and silence.
Then—a single hallway light flickered on.
Guiding him.
Like always.
He followed.
At the end of the corridor, a full-length mirror stood propped against the wall.
Odd.
There was nothing else in sight.
No laptop. No instructions.
Just… a mirror.
Tama stared at his reflection.
The hollow eyes. The unshaved jaw. The fear behind his posture.
He didn't recognize himself anymore.
Then the mirror flickered.
And the reflection blinked twice—out of sync.
Tama stepped back, chilled.
The reflection leaned forward.
Spoke.
"You don't remember me, do you?"
Tama's voice caught in his throat.
This wasn't a screen.
This wasn't pre-recorded.
This was… interactive.
"Who are you?" he whispered.
The reflection grinned. "I'm the version of you that remembers what you tried to forget."
The air grew colder.
LEVEL THREE: FACE THE TRUTH.
(What did you erase, Tama? What did you hide from yourself?)
A countdown appeared in the glass:
15:00…
Then images flashed across the mirror:
– A child crying in a burning room.
– A man with a bruised face screaming Tama's name.
– Risa, younger, hiding behind a door.
Tama staggered back. "No… I never—"
The reflection cut him off. "You did. You were there. You ran. You locked the door."
"No!" he shouted.
"Say it," the reflection demanded.
Tama's heart pounded.
He remembered now.
That night.
Fifteen years ago.
He and Risa had found a man—homeless, drunk—inside the library. The man tried to hurt them. Tama had fought back. Locked the man inside a storage room to protect Risa.
And ran.
He never told anyone.
The fire broke out later that night.
No body was ever found.
Until now.
"One of them survived."
The reflection sneered. "And he's been watching. Feeding the game. Making you remember."
Tama sank to his knees.
Then, new words appeared on the mirror:
CONFESS TO ESCAPE.
OR STAY HERE FOREVER.
Tama looked up, trembling. "You want a confession? Fine. I left him there. I saved my sister and left a man to die."
The mirror flickered violently.
Then—
Shattered.
A burst of white light exploded from the mirror, and when it faded, Tama found himself no longer in the hallway.
But in a cold, concrete room.
Tied to a chair.
A voice echoed from speakers above.
Not mechanical this time.
Human.
Familiar.
"Now we're getting somewhere."
A figure emerged from the shadows.
Face covered with a black mask.
But the eyes—
Tama knew those eyes.
"You—" he gasped. "Ray?"
The man removed his mask slowly.
Ray.
His old ally. The informant. The one who saved him once.
"I told you to watch your back," Ray said softly.
"You're behind this?" Tama rasped.
Ray shook his head.
"I'm just another player. Like you. But I lasted longer. Learned more. Got closer to the puppet master."
"Then help me," Tama begged. "Risa—"
Ray cut him off. "You're not ready to save her yet. Not until you know everything. Not until you stop lying to yourself."
The walls flickered again.
New images.
Not just of Tama.
Of others.
Strangers. Victims. All connected.
"It's not just about you anymore," Ray said. "This game… it's global. And you're not the only one on the board."
Tama's mind reeled.
"What do they want?"
Ray leaned closer.
"Chaos."
Then he pulled a knife from his coat.
Tama tensed.
But Ray cut the ropes binding him.
"Level Four begins now, Tama."
"And this time, you won't be alone."
---
To be continued...