The rain hadn't stopped.
Tama stood at the edge of the city, facing a building that looked like it had been forgotten by time—a crumbling psychiatric facility with rusted gates and vines strangling its stone walls. The name barely legible on a plaque above the door:
Surya Mental Health Institute
(Closed indefinitely since 2013)
Exactly the year Dr. Surya Adrian disappeared.
"Why here?" Tama muttered.
Ray stood beside him, hood up, scanning the building through night-vision binoculars. "Because this is where it began for you."
"I was ten."
"You were awake."
Nira crouched behind them, loading a small taser into her belt. "You sure you're ready to see the man who told you your mind was broken?"
Tama didn't answer.
Because truthfully, he wasn't sure.
All he knew was that The Operator had led him here. And if Risa's location was still hidden, this place held the next key.
He stepped through the iron gate.
The building moaned as if warning him.
Inside, the air was thick with mold and memory. Old medical posters clung to walls like ghosts. Wheelchairs sat abandoned in the hallways. There were faint sounds of dripping water and something else…
A hum.
Electrical.
Underground.
Tama followed it.
Down rusted stairs into the basement, through broken double doors that once read: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
There, bathed in the eerie glow of a single overhead light, stood a chair.
Facing a screen.
A screen that flickered to life as Tama stepped forward.
LEVEL FIVE: THE WITNESS ROOM
(Play the tape. Accept what you did.)
A single VHS tape waited on a nearby table. Labeled only:
T. YUDHISTIRA – SESSION 6 – CONFIDENTIAL
Tama swallowed hard.
This wasn't just a game.
This was his memory.
He inserted the tape.
Static filled the screen, then resolved into a grainy image—Dr. Surya, seated in a chair, smiling gently at the camera.
Across from him sat a young boy.
Tama.
His ten-year-old self.
Curled up. Silent. Eyes wide and dark.
"Tell me again what you saw in the fire, Tama."
The child didn't answer.
Dr. Surya continued, "You said you saw someone in the mirror before the flames. Who was it?"
Child-Tama whispered something inaudible.
The doctor leaned in. "Louder."
"It was me," child-Tama said. "But not really me."
Tama's heart dropped.
He remembered none of this.
The video continued.
"He told me to lock the door. To let the man burn. And I did."
Dr. Surya paused. "And who was this... 'other Tama'?"
"He said he's the real one. I'm just the soft copy."
The screen cut to static.
Tama staggered back.
"What the hell—"
Nira appeared behind him, expression grim. "They fractured your memory."
Ray spoke from the shadows. "No. They duplicated it."
Tama turned toward them, confused and shaking. "What are you talking about?"
Ray stepped forward. "This whole time, you've assumed you're playing one role in the game. But what if there's another Tama?"
Tama's breath caught.
"You mean like... a split personality?"
"No," Nira said flatly. "We mean a literal second version."
Ray nodded. "Digital. Cloned. Trained inside their system. Looks like you, thinks like you—but darker. Colder. Designed to win this game by any means."
Tama reeled.
"You're saying… I'm being hunted by myself?"
"Not just hunted," Ray said. "Tested."
Nira handed Tama a photo. Blurry, but clear enough.
A man, identical to him.
Standing outside the wreckage of a building. Watching. Smiling.
Tama felt the room spin.
"Why would they do this?"
Ray answered softly, "Because the perfect enemy is the one who knows everything about you."
And then, as if on cue, the screen turned back on.
Not a video this time.
A live feed.
Of Risa.
Tied again—but this time, not crying.
Her expression was blank. Detached.
And beside her stood another Tama.
Colder. Clean-shaven. Wearing a suit and gloves.
He looked into the camera.
And spoke.
"Hello, brother. Let's see who she chooses when the time comes."
The feed cut to black.
A countdown appeared:
NEXT LEVEL IN: 48 HOURS
ONLY ONE TAMA WILL SURVIVE.
---
To be continued...