Ethan hurried through the dimly lit streets, following the signs that led toward Palamine Coast.
The rain had settled into a light drizzle, the cool air brushing against his skin as he moved with purpose. His mind raced with anticipation, excitement, and doubt all at once.
Finally, after a few more turns, he arrived.
A quiet, desolate coastline stretched before him, waves gently crashing against the shore. The area was eerily empty no sign of people, no hint of the so-called "biggest experimental tool for humans."
Ethan's excitement wavered.
Ethan: "Did I really fall for a scam?"
He sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. But just as he was about to turn back, a familiar voice called out from behind.
"Ethan?"
Ethan spun around, eyes widening. Karlos stood a few feet away, equally drenched from the rain, a look of confusion and surprise on his face.
Ethan: "Karlos? What the hell are you doing here?"
Karlos let out a small chuckle, shaking his head.
Karlos: "I could ask you the same thing, man."
A strange feeling settled between them. Both of them had received the letter. Both had ended up in the same place.
This was no coincidence.
Ethan took a step closer, narrowing his eyes as he studied Karlos. His heart was still racing, not from exhaustion, but from the absolute absurdity of the situation.
Ethan: "So you knew? About the letter, Karlos? The one I told you about this morning?"
Karlos let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his damp hair. His expression was a mix of confusion and frustration.
Karlos: "Hey, I wasn't really sure if it was the same letter I got. I thought it could be anything. You never dropped the details of what was written on it."
The two stood in silence for a moment, staring at each other before it finally clicked.
They had been pranked.
With an exasperated chuckle, they both broke into laughter, the absurdity of it all sinking in.
Ethan: "Well, fuck this."
Karlos: "Yeah, fuck this."
Still shaking their heads, they turned and began making their way back, walking side by side as the cold night air wrapped around them. The rain had slowed to a faint drizzle, the waves gently rolling against the shore behind them.
As they walked, their conversation shifted to more trivial things, old memories, work complaints, and gossip. Karlos was mid-sentence, laughing about Ethan's long-time crush going out with Milo, that "ugly white guy," when something stopped them in their tracks.
A voice.
Distant but clear.
???: "Ethan… Karlos."
The laughter died instantly.
They froze, their breath hitching as their eyes darted around the empty coastline. The wind howled softly, the rain tapping against the ground—but nothing else. No footsteps. No movement.
Just the eerie silence after hearing their names.
Ethan's fingers twitched, his body suddenly feeling heavier than before.
Ethan: "Did you hear that?"
Karlos swallowed hard, his face stiff.
Karlos: "Yeah… and I really wish I didn't."
Ethan and Karlos slowly turned around, their expressions shifting from confusion to sheer unease.
Their bodies tensed as their eyes landed on the figure standing before them.
A man—dressed entirely in black—stood motionless a few feet away. A deer mask concealed his face, its smooth, bone-white surface marked only by two hollow eye sockets. On the top the mask, two sharp, twisted horns stretched toward the sky, giving him an almost demonic appearance.
His presence was suffocating. The air around him felt heavier, colder. There was something deeply
unsettling about him, something unnatural. Neither Ethan nor Karlos could explain it, but they both felt the same thing this man wasn't normal.
Karlos swallowed hard but forced himself to speak, masking his fear with a firm voice.
Karlos: "Who are you? Are you the one who sent us the letter?"
His voice was loud, confident—even though, on the inside, he was just as terrified as Ethan.
The masked man tilted his head slightly, the motion slow and deliberate. Then, he spoke, his voice
smooth yet void of any warmth.
"Yes. You will call me Azerath. You are six minutes late. That is why you see no other candidates
here."
Ethan's breath hitched. His heart pounded as he quickly checked the time on his phone. 9:36 PM.
Azerath was right.
Karlos clenched his jaw, his hands instinctively curling into fists.
Karlos: "So now what?"
Azerath didn't hesitate.
Azerath: "Follow me and I will guide you to the venue where the event is taking place."
Silence followed. A cold, creeping realization slithered down Ethan and Karlos' spines.
This wasn't a prank.
This wasn't some joke.
This was real.
And they had just stepped into something far bigger than they had ever imagined. Ethan and Karlos hesitated. Their feet refused to move, frozen in place by an overwhelming sense of unease.
Azerath continued walking, his movements unnaturally smooth, almost as if he were gliding. As the
distance between them grew, he suddenly stopped. Then, without a sound, he turned his head back toward them.
A wave of dread crashed over Ethan and Karlos.
There were no words—no gestures. Just that silent stare from the hollow sockets of his deer mask.
And yet, they understood the message clearly.
Follow.
A shiver crawled up Ethan's spine. He glanced at Karlos, who gave him a stiff nod. With no other choice, they both started walking, side by side. Their steps were slow and cautious, their minds screaming at them to turn back.
Azerath remained silent as he led the way. The only sounds were the distant crashing of waves and the rhythmic tapping of their footsteps against the damp ground.
Ethan and Karlos exchanged nervous glances. Every now and then, Ethan would look ahead at
Azerath's tall, eerie figure—his black coat flowing slightly with each step, his posture disturbingly calm.
Ethan: "There is something off about this person... don't you think?"
Karlos whispered, loud enough that only Ethan would be able to hear what he said
"Yeah... but don't speak. He might hear us."
Ethan swallowed hard and nodded. The tension between them was suffocating.
Then, up ahead, something came into view.
A large mansion, its towering structure bathed in shadows, loomed in the distance. The sight of it sent a fresh wave of anxiety through them both. This was it. This was where everything would begin. The mansion stood like a vision from a dream, glowing, rich, luxurious, a place straight out of a movie. Every inch of it exuded wealth and grandness, the kind of place people could only fantasize about owning.
Ethan and Karlos couldn't help but stare. The golden lights illuminated the sleek marble pathways, the massive pillars stretched toward the sky, and the carved wooden doors looked like they belonged to royalty.
Azerath came to a stop at the entrance. Without a word, he raised a hand and gave them a subtle but respectful gesture, silently instructing them to go inside.
Karlos hesitated for a second before stepping forward, pushing the grand doors open. Ethan followed right behind him.
The moment they entered—blinding light flooded their vision.
Their eyes, adjusted to the darkness outside, couldn't handle the sudden shift. They instinctively raised their hands, squinting as their vision struggled to adapt.
But as the brightness settled, their eyes widened in disbelief. Hundreds of people.
400? Maybe 600? There was no way to tell exactly, but the sheer number was overwhelming. A sea of unfamiliar faces stretched across the grand hall, filling the space with murmurs of uncertainty and excitement.
Both Ethan and Karlos stood frozen. This wasn't some small event. This was massive.
Ethan: "Karlos... this is crazy, don't you think?"
Karlos, his mouth slightly open in shock, slowly nodded.
Karlos: "There are so many people here… is everyone a participant?"
Ethan turned to look at him, his own disbelief mirrored in Karlos' expression.
Ethan: "Looks like it."
With that, the two of them stepped forward, moving deeper into the crowd, trying to make sense of what they had just walked into.
The massive hall was filled with an overwhelming blend of emotions.
Some people looked worried, their eyes darting around as if second-guessing their decision to come.
Others were scared, standing stiffly with arms crossed, their expressions betraying the anxiety bubbling beneath the surface.
Then there were the ones excited—the ones who saw this as an opportunity, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. Some had come purely for the thrill, hungry for adventure. Others had come for money, their desperation evident in the way they clutched their invitation letters. And then, there were the ones who had arrived simply out of curiosity—the most dangerous emotion of all.
Ethan and Karlos were no different. Opposites in every way, yet drawn to the same fate.
Ethan, the unpresentable, careless, and laid-back one, standing awkwardly in his wrinkled clothes, his posture slouched, his mind scattered.
Karlos—the sharp, well-dressed, confident one, his gaze focused, his presence commanding, his mind always calculating.
And yet, despite their differences, they were both here.
Because invitations like these—humans can't decline them. It's in their nature to choose them. It's in their nature to be curious. From the moment they are born to the second they die, curiosity has always dictated their every action.
That's how humanity evolved. That's how they ended up here.
Ethan shifted uncomfortably, his nerves growing as he looked around the sea of strangers. The weight of the situation pressed down on him, unfamiliar and suffocating. He wasn't used to this—this feeling of being out of place. Of discomfort.
Instinctively, he turned to Karlos.
Ethan: "Should we start talking to people… Karlos?"
His voice held uncertainty. A nervous edge. A fear of being left out lingered in his tone, something he wasn't used to admitting. It had been too long since he had been thrown into a situation like this. He sought Karlos' presence for comfort, using him as a shield against the unknown.
Karlos, however, remained composed. He understood Ethan's hesitation but didn't let it show.
Instead, he gave him a confident nod, his voice firm and reassuring.
Karlos: "Yeah, we should. Let's try to gather as much information as we can from the people around us."
He placed a hand on Ethan's shoulder, gripping it lightly to ground him.
Karlos: "Got it?"
Ethan exhaled and nodded, a flicker of determination replacing his fear.
With that, Karlos turned to scan the crowd, his sharp eyes searching for the right people—the ones whose expressions could tell them something useful.
Karlos focused his search on the scared and lonely ones first.
Why?
Because people who are afraid, people who feel alone in a terrifying situation, naturally cling to
kindness. Imagine being trapped in an unknown place, trembling with fear. Now, imagine someone
approaching you, not with hostility, not with indifference, but with warmth. A friendly face, a reassuring presence.
In moments of uncertainty, even a stranger's kindness can feel like a lifeline.
That was Karlos' goal.
His eyes darted across the room, scanning the sea of faces. So many people. Too many people.
Distinguishing individual expressions in a crowd this large was almost impossible.
Karlos (thinking): "Damn… There are too many people. It's hard to tell who's scared and who's just deep in thought."
His concentration broke when he heard his name.
Ethan: "Karlos!"
Karlos turned immediately, locking eyes with Ethan, who stood a few feet away. His expression wasn't panicked, but there was an urgency in his voice. He had found someone.
Karlos maneuvered his way through the crowd, slipping past conversations and avoiding brushing
shoulders with too many people.
As he reached Ethan, his eyes fell on a young girl standing beside him.
She looked terrified.
Her fingers fidgeted slightly, and her shoulders were tense, as if expecting something terrible to happen at any moment. She was one of them, someone who received the letter before heading to work, curiosity leading her straight into the unknown.
Ethan turned to Karlos, speaking in a confident tone, though the nervousness still clung to his voice.
Ethan: "Her name is Alice. She has a similar story to ours."
Karlos glanced at Alice, observing her carefully. She barely met his eyes, her anxiety clear.
This was it. Their first real conversation with another candidate.
And now, it was time to find out what she knew.
Alice stood before them, her presence almost out of place in a setting like this.
Her voice was sweet and high-pitched, carrying a softness that made her words feel light, yet fragile. Her blonde hair cascaded gently over her shoulders, framing her delicate face. Blue, innocent eyes blinked up at them, wide with uncertainty. Her small pink lips and cute nose only added to the softness of her features.
She was beautiful.
Too beautiful to be in a place like this.
Karlos found himself thinking, "Unbelievable." How did someone like her end up here? He couldn't wrap his head around it.
Ethan, keeping his composure, spoke first.
Ethan: "Has there been anything? Like, anything informative? We just got here, and we have no idea what's going on."
Karlos turned his attention to Alice, his sharp gaze lingering on her as he waited for an answer.
Alice took a breath, her posture still tense, but her expression had softened a lot more than before.
Meeting Ethan and Karlos—two others who shared her situation—had helped her feel less alone, less afraid.
Alice: "Nothing. Not yet. Everyone is just standing around, confused. But… there was an announcement."
Ethan and Karlos both focused on her words as she continued.
Alice: "A speech will be given by The Elder at 10 o'clock."
Her voice still held a nervous tremble, but the sheer terror that once painted her face had faded.
She wasn't as scared anymore. Not completely safe, but… calmer.
Karlos muttered under his breath.
Karlos: "10 PM… I see."
Ethan instinctively checked the time. 9:51 PM.
Ethan: "Just nine more minutes."
Alice gave a soft whimper of agreement, nodding slightly.
And so, the three of them stood there, silently watching the crowd—waiting.
Waiting for whatever was about to happen next.
As Ethan, Karlos, and Alice observed the restless crowd, a sudden, loud noise erupted from within.
BANG!!
The unmistakable sound of a heavy punch landing—flesh meeting bone with brutal force.
A split second later, the entire hall fell into an eerie silence. The murmurs died. The shuffling footsteps came to a halt.
Ethan, Karlos, and Alice, along with hundreds of others, snapped their heads in the direction of the sound. Where did it come from? Who was fighting?
Eyes darted around, searching for the source. Then, fingers began pointing, whispers spread like wildfire, and the crowd instinctively backed away, forming a wide circle.
Now, in the dead center of that circle, stood two individuals.
One of them—a young man—was bleeding profusely from his nose, his entire face contorted in agony.
The blood dripped uncontrollably, staining his shirt, streaking down his chin. He staggered slightly, his breaths ragged, as if he had barely processed the pain that had just been inflicted upon him.
Standing before him, towering like a mountain of muscle and menace, was his attacker.
A tall, fat, but incredibly muscular man.
His broad chest rose and fell steadily, completely unfazed by what he had done. His fist—the very one responsible for the devastating blow—remained clenched, small traces of blood smearing across his thick knuckles. His posture was firm, unshaken, as if he had done this a thousand times before.
The tension in the air was suffocating.
No one moved. No one spoke.
All eyes remained locked on the two men in the center.
And the realization settled in this wasn't just a simple argument.
This was something else.
Something dangerous.