The sun's rays hit from the east, just like in the real world. For the first time since we entered this game, the warmth of the sunlight felt real. The air was still, yet every time I stepped into the shadow of a broken building, a chill crept over me. The chilly night hadn't fully warmed up yet—that was my initial thought as I made my way through the brizzy dawn. The world around me was calm, but my mind was anything but.
As I walked, my thoughts drifted back home—to the people, friends, and even Priya, the real Priya. I missed them all so much it hurt. The absolute reality gnawed at me: the chances of us making it out alive were getting slimmer with each passing moment. This was supposed to be a three-level game. I had felt a brief moment of relief when the last level ended, thinking we were finally going home. But then, doubts crept in. Why hadn't the game ended?
The voices on the comms were just as lost as I was, and we all sensed something was wrong. I glanced at the virtual map, and what I saw blew our minds. The game wasn't over. There was still a timer, counting down to the next attack. It would start in three hours.
That's when I truly lost it. I ripped off the comm and stormed out, needing to clear my head, needing to escape the crushing reality of this endless nightmare.
As I walked, the image of a distressed Karun weighed heavily on my heart, but I forced myself to stay strong. "The chances of us making it out alive are low, but not impossible," I repeated to myself, trying to focus on the tactics that might help us survive. With Karun down, the burden of leading the final battle fell on me. It would've been easier if this were just a normal assassin game, but the NPCs that looked exactly like our people from home made it infinitely harder. How do you fight when your enemy wears the face of someone you love? That's the cruel brilliance of this game—it scans your mind while you're too focused on the early levels and designs the NPCs to mimic those you care about. It's the ultimate psychological trap, and it's relentless.
As I trudged along, head down with these thoughts, a large shadow of a building loomed over me. But something caught my eye—a part of the shadow moved. I froze. The game had been deserted except for Karun and me, so what could this be? Replaying the moment in my mind, I was certain it was a human shadow. And then, I saw it again—turning slightly as I was about to pass it. A man, standing atop the five-story building, looking down at me. But it couldn't be an assassin; the game hadn't restarted, and it definitely wasn't Karun, who was injured and resting in the trailer. The figure quickly moved back, trying to avoid my gaze.
Instinctively, I glanced at the virtual map above my head. The game was set to restart in two hours, with no red alerts yet. Whoever this was, they weren't an assassin—at least not yet. But could it be another glitch, like the broken figures or ragged fabric that often scared me in the second level, much to Karun's amusement? No. This felt different. This felt real. Before I knew it, I was sprinting up the slippery stairs, desperate to uncover the truth.
The climb was grueling. I hadn't slept or rested properly since last night, and every step felt heavier than the last. I tripped often, catching myself against the walls, my exhaustion gnawing at my resolve. The building was falling apart, forcing me to navigate through broken staircases, climb pipelines, and squeeze through shattered window panes. But I pushed on, driven by the need to find this figure.
Finally, I reached the terrace, panting and worn out. There, under the harsh glare of the sun, a figure moved. The light was blinding, making it hard to discern any details. The terrace was close to the sea, and the sound of crashing waves drowned out any other noise. The cool breeze explained the earlier chill, but it also carried an eerie sense of foreboding.The figure stood still, waiting, as if they knew I would come. But why?