Akira Aoki, 16 years old, wasn't someone you'd call an average teenager. His face was often plastered on national news, and adults loved calling him a "genius"—but Akira himself couldn't care less. While his peers were either studying or preparing for college, Akira spent his time in his small, dimly lit room, glued to his PC. Strategy games, battle royales, and simulation games were his escape from the suffocating world that expected too much of him.

To him, life outside the virtual realm was boring. Predictable. People worked hard for achievements that didn't even compare to his in-game leaderboard rankings.

"Life would be way more fun if it were like the games," he muttered, finishing another round of his favorite PC death-game simulation, Trials of the Abyss. In the game, players were thrown into a brutal world where survival required strategy, alliances, and betrayal. It was Akira's favorite escape, mainly because it tested his mind rather than physical strength.

---

The following morning, Akira walked to school as usual, ignoring the bustling crowd around him. He shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes half-closed, lost in thought about last night's game.

But then, it happened.

The crowded street seemed to quiet down, as if a heavy blanket had muffled the world. The air felt colder, and for the first time in years, Akira felt... uneasy.

Ahead of him, a man stood still. He wore an old-fashioned suit, his posture unnaturally rigid. And though Akira's eyes tried to focus, there was nothing on the man's face—just blank skin. No eyes, no nose, no mouth. Nothing.

Akira froze. His instincts screamed at him to run, but his legs wouldn't move.

"What the hell is this...?" Akira whispered, his voice trembling.

The faceless man walked toward him, each step echoing louder than the last. Akira's heart pounded as he tried to scream, but no sound came out.

When the faceless man reached him, a hand shot out and grabbed Akira's face. The touch was cold—freezing cold. Akira's vision blurred, and everything around him dissolved into white.

---

Akira opened his eyes to find himself in a blindingly white room. The walls, the floor, the ceiling—everything was a sterile, featureless white. The only splash of color was his black robe, which he now wore in place of his school uniform.

"What the...?" Akira muttered, looking around.

He wasn't alone.

Scattered throughout the room were 27 others, each wearing the same black robe. Some looked confused, others scared, and a few were visibly panicking. Akira's sharp mind immediately began to assess the situation.

He counted the people. "Twenty-eight including me," he thought.

He didn't recognize anyone, but the situation felt eerily familiar. His thoughts raced back to Trials of the Abyss. In the game, players were transported into an unfamiliar world to fight for survival.

"Wait... this can't be real, right?" Akira felt a strange sense of excitement bubbling up inside him.

---

Before anyone could speak, a giant screen materialized on one of the walls. Static crackled, and a blurry figure appeared. It was a woman—but like the man before, her face was featureless.

"What is this? Some kind of prank?" someone in the room shouted.

The faceless woman tilted her head, as if acknowledging the comment. Then, something horrifying happened.

A mouth tore itself open on the blank canvas of her face. It wasn't human. The teeth were jagged, the lips stretched unnaturally wide, and the voice that came out was cold and mechanical.

"Welcome, participants," she said.

The room fell silent.

"You have been chosen to participate in The Summer Game. This is not a dream, nor is it a simulation. Your lives are now part of a greater purpose. Only one of you will leave this place alive."

Akira's breath hitched. "It is like the game," he thought, his excitement battling against the fear creeping into his chest.

The woman continued. "You will face challenges, trials, and decisions. Win, and you may advance. Lose, and you will face elimination."

"Elimination?" a girl asked, her voice trembling.

The screen shifted, displaying a gruesome image: a man's body disintegrating into ash as he screamed.

"Elimination," the faceless woman repeated coldly.

Panic broke out in the room. People screamed, some banging on the walls, others shouting for help. But Akira stayed silent, his mind racing.

This wasn't just a game anymore—it was reality. And if he wanted to survive, he'd have to use every ounce of his intelligence.

---

"Your first trial begins now," the faceless woman announced.

The floor beneath them began to shift, and the group found themselves standing in what looked like an arena. The white room dissolved, replaced by dark stone walls and flickering torches.

In the center of the arena stood a single pedestal, and on it was a knife.

"The rules are simple," the woman's voice echoed. "Choose one among you to die. You have 10 minutes. If no decision is made, all of you will be eliminated."

The group froze.

"Choose... someone to die?" someone whispered in disbelief.

Akira's heart raced. He had seen scenarios like this before in games and movies. He knew what was coming next: chaos, betrayal, and desperation.

But this wasn't a game.

This was real.

And he needed to stay alive.