The sun dipped below the skyline, painting the sprawling campus of Academe JPN in hues of orange and gold. Aoi stood at the vending machine, tapping their finger against the glowing button for an iced tea. The hum of campus life was as normal as ever—laughter spilling from the tennis courts, muffled debates from the debate club echoing through open windows. It was just another day.

"Hey, you heard about it?"

The voice came from Riku, Aoi's roommate, who leaned against the vending machine with a sly grin, his dark brown hair falling messily over his eyes.

"Heard about what?" Aoi asked, grabbing the can as it clattered into the tray.

"Never mind." Riku shrugged. "You wouldn't be interested."

Aoi frowned. "You literally brought it up."

"Yeah, but you're not the type who likes… excitement."

"I like excitement."

"Sure you do," Riku teased, punching Aoi's shoulder lightly. "Look, just don't say I didn't warn you if things get weird."

"What things? Riku, just say it."

He opened his mouth to reply but stopped when a group of students passed by, their voices hushed, faces unusually serious. Riku followed them with his eyes, then back to Aoi, his expression unreadable.

"Forget it," he said after a pause. "Let's get to dinner."

The cafeteria buzzed with its usual chaos—students arguing over who'd snagged the last tray of curry, a couple debating movie rankings at the top of their lungs. Aoi and Riku squeezed into a corner table with their trays.

Across the room, a girl's voice cut sharply through the noise.

"You think it's true? About the midnight thing?"

Aoi's ears perked up. Midnight? They glanced at Riku, who avoided their gaze, shoveling rice into his mouth like he hadn't heard anything.

"Riku."

"Hm?" he said through a mouthful of curry.

"What's happening at midnight?"

Riku hesitated, the spoon halfway to his mouth. "It's just a rumor. Nothing serious."

"You're terrible at lying."

"Fine," Riku sighed, leaning closer. "They're calling it 'The Games.' Some kind of challenge or competition, I don't know. No one really does. But the weird part? Everyone who talks about it…" He trailed off, glancing over his shoulder.

"What?" Aoi pressed.

"They say it feels like you're being watched after. Like, really watched." He shrugged, but his eyes betrayed him—a flicker of unease.

"Watched?" Aoi repeated. "That's ridiculous."

"Yeah, totally," Riku said quickly, shoving his tray aside. "Let's talk about something else."

But Aoi couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it.

The first sign came later that evening.

Aoi was flipping through a physics textbook when their phone buzzed. They ignored it at first—probably another club notification—but the buzzing continued, insistent.

When they finally picked it up, a single line of text stared back at them:

"Midnight. Abandoned Auditorium. Your first step awaits."

Their stomach tightened. Before they could even think to respond, the message vanished, replaced by the default screen.

"Riku!" Aoi called, rushing to the shared dorm room. "Did you get a message just now?"

Riku looked up from his bed, one earbud dangling. "Message? What message?"

Aoi showed him the phone. "It said something about midnight and the auditorium."

"That's… creepy," Riku admitted, sitting up. "I didn't get anything like that."

"You're not messing with me?"

"No! Why would I? Look, it's probably someone pulling a prank."

Aoi wasn't convinced. "What if it's about those 'Games' you mentioned?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Riku laughed nervously. "You're overthinking it."

But Aoi wasn't sure. They glanced at their phone again. The message was gone, but the unease lingered.

The clock struck 11:50 PM when Aoi finally made up their mind. Riku was snoring softly in the bunk above, oblivious.

Throwing on a jacket, Aoi slipped out of the room and into the cool night air. The campus, so lively during the day, was eerily silent now. Shadows stretched long under the streetlights, and the path to the abandoned auditorium felt darker than it should.

Aoi wasn't alone.

Figures emerged from the shadows—students, some familiar, others strangers—all heading in the same direction. No one spoke. The silence was heavier than the darkness itself.

When they reached the auditorium, Aoi hesitated. The double doors loomed ahead, rusted and uninviting. Around them, the other students seemed equally reluctant to step forward.

"What is this?" someone finally muttered.

The words broke the spell. One by one, they filed inside. Aoi followed, their heartbeat loud in their ears.

The room was as dilapidated as expected—peeling paint, broken seats, cobwebs in every corner. But it wasn't empty.

A spotlight flickered on, illuminating a small podium at the center of the stage. On it sat an envelope, sealed with blood-red wax.

"What the hell is this?" a boy near the front asked.

No one answered. Instead, a girl with a sharp gaze stepped forward, her lips tight. She reached for the envelope.

"Wait!" Aoi blurted, surprising even themselves.

She froze, turning to look at them. "What?"

"Maybe we shouldn't—"

"Then don't," she snapped, snatching the envelope anyway. The wax cracked as she tore it open.

Her eyes scanned the letter inside. Slowly, she began to read aloud:

"Welcome, players, to the First Game."