The lights didn't flicker—they just changed.
One moment, sterile white.
The next, saturated red, as if the walls had inhaled blood and decided to keep it.
A chime rang out. Not musical. Not mechanical. Just a pure, tonal note, like a string pulled taut across metal.
Then the voice returned.
[Round One: PRIORITIZATION]
[Instructions: When the door opens, only ten may pass.]
[There are thirty-eight players.]
[You decide who walks through.]
The floor rippled underfoot. A circular platform split open at the far side of the chamber, forming a doorway of black static. Behind it: unknowable dark. No map. No hint. Just a void that felt like forward.
Silence.
Then panic.
"What the hell does that mean?" someone shouted.
"It's a trick," another snapped. "There's probably thirty-eight doors and we're just being tested—"
"No," Lucas said. Calm. Cold. "There's one."
Eyes turned.
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
