Tama's wrists still burned from the ropes as he rubbed them, free at last. The concrete room was colder than before. Harsh fluorescent lights buzzed above them, casting Ray's shadow long and sharp across the floor.
Ray handed him a bottle of water.
"Drink. You'll need it."
Tama hesitated. "You sure this isn't another test?"
Ray smiled faintly. "Oh, it is. Everything is."
Tama drank anyway—half from thirst, half to see if he'd survive the next five minutes.
He did.
"So," he asked, voice raw, "what's really going on?"
Ray leaned against the wall, folding his arms. "You've seen the surface. Now you're about to see the machinery underneath."
Tama narrowed his eyes. "This game... Who's behind it?"
Ray's smile faded.
"They call it The Operator. No one knows if it's a person or a group. But they've been building this for years—selecting targets, manipulating lives, tracking people who can be... pushed."
"Pushed into what?"
"Breaking. Or becoming something else."
Tama felt the weight of those words settle in his chest. He thought this had all been about punishment, revenge, maybe a vendetta.
But this was bigger.
"Why me?"
"Because you're smart," Ray replied. "Because you're guilty. And because you're capable of doing what most people won't."
Tama's stomach twisted. "Like what?"
Ray didn't answer.
Instead, he tapped the wall behind him.
It slid open with a mechanical groan, revealing a narrow hallway and a second figure—tall, female, hair tied back in a sharp ponytail, eyes cold and alert.
"This is Nira," Ray said. "She made it to Level Six before she broke their system."
Tama blinked. "Wait, someone actually broke the game?"
Nira stepped forward, voice clipped. "No one breaks the game. But some of us survive long enough to learn how to cheat."
She tossed him a black wristband with a blinking red light.
"What's this?" Tama asked.
"Protection. Kind of," Nira replied. "They can't track you while it's on. But it only buys you time, not safety."
Ray interrupted. "You're being hunted now, Tama. Just by surviving Level Three, you've been flagged. That makes you a threat. The Operator doesn't like threats."
"Then why don't they just kill me?"
Nira gave him a sharp look. "Because you're entertaining."
Tama's fists clenched. He felt the rage boiling up.
"This is a show?"
Ray shrugged. "Not for the public. Not for money. For control."
They walked down the corridor together.
Concrete gave way to steel. The air grew colder, the silence heavier.
Tama glanced sideways. "You said I wouldn't be alone. So this is it? A resistance?"
Ray nodded. "A small one. Most don't make it past Level Three. Some get recruited, like you. Others… don't wake up."
"And Risa?"
Ray and Nira exchanged a glance.
"She's alive," Nira said quietly. "For now. But they've moved her."
Tama stopped walking. "Where?"
Ray replied, "We don't know yet. But if we finish Level Four fast enough, we'll get the access we need to trace her signal."
Tama didn't ask what happened if they failed.
He already knew.
They reached a small room with a large screen on the far wall and three black chairs in front of it. Surveillance equipment buzzed softly. Dozens of feeds ran at once—cameras in homes, offices, schools.
Nira sat at the console and typed in a command.
The screen cleared.
A new message appeared:
LEVEL FOUR – TRUST TEST
(Two truths. One lie. Choose the lie. You have five minutes.)
Beneath it, three statements:
1. Your sister was never the target. You were.
2. Ray has never lied to you.
3. You're the reason your parents disappeared.
Tama's pulse spiked.
"What the hell is this?" he whispered.
Nira looked at him. "They're messing with your mind now. Psychological tests. They want to see what breaks you."
Ray stood silently, face unreadable.
Tama stared at the screen. The timer ticked down: 04:27...
He remembered his parents' disappearance. Everyone assumed they died in a car accident when Tama was ten.
But the bodies were never found.
Ray… he had saved Tama once. But he had also gone dark for over a year.
And the first statement—about Risa not being the target. That felt… wrong. Too wrong.
Tama gritted his teeth.
03:45...
He stepped forward and selected option 2: Ray has never lied to you.
The screen froze.
A long pause.
Then—
Correct. Ray lied.
Tama turned to him slowly. "What did you lie about?"
Ray exhaled. "That I wasn't part of the Operator program. I was. Once. I helped build Level One."
Tama's vision tunneled.
"You used me?"
"I saved you," Ray replied. "You were on the kill list. I took you off. That's the only reason you're still breathing."
Tama's hands curled into fists. "You could've told me."
Ray shook his head. "You wouldn't have listened. You had to see it for yourself."
Before Tama could respond, the screen blinked again.
You passed Level Four. Welcome to the deeper game.
A final message flashed:
Next Level: WITNESS.
Then a map appeared.
Coordinates.
And a name.
One Tama hadn't heard in over a decade.
DR. SURYA ADRIAN
His old therapist.
The one who told Tama his trauma was "imagined."
The one who vanished six months after Tama's last session.
The same man who once said:
"If you dig deep enough, Tama, your truth might kill you."
---
To be continued...