Aaron's heart raced, his breath shallow and quick as the minutes ticked away. He could feel the weight of what was about to happen bearing down on him. The message had been clear. The "game" was starting, and he needed to be ready. Time was running out.
There had been no more strange messages or warnings, just an eerie silence punctuated by the ticking of the clock. He glanced at his phone once more—5:35 p.m. His mind ran through all possible scenarios. No, he couldn't afford to panic now. There was no turning back. Whatever was going to happen next, Aaron had to prepare, not just mentally but physically.
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First, Aaron took a long breath, steadying himself. There was no way to predict the horrors this "game" might throw at him, but he wasn't going to be caught off guard. No more hesitation.
He went to his closet, pulling out what he thought would be the most practical clothing for the task ahead. The first item was a black, fitted long-sleeve shirt made of breathable, moisture-wicking fabric—light but strong enough to protect against the elements. It wouldn't restrict his movements. It was the kind of shirt designed for people who needed to move quickly, with a flexibility that would be critical if he had to run, climb, or fight.
Next, he grabbed a pair of tactical cargo pants. The grey material looked simple, but it was reinforced in all the right places. The pants had several deep pockets where he could stash whatever he might need—tools, supplies, anything useful he came across. A few extra compartments never hurt. He could already feel the weight of the unknown pressing in, and he needed to be ready for whatever was coming.
He chose a pair of black combat boots with thick soles. Heavy but sturdy, they would give him traction on any terrain. Aaron wasn't sure what kind of environment he was heading into, but the shoes needed to keep him grounded, both literally and figuratively.
Finally, he adjusted the straps of a tactical vest, which fit snugly over his shirt. It was lightweight but durable, with several small pouches and compartments, perfect for carrying anything he might find or need to defend himself. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.
He checked himself in the mirror once more. The reflection staring back at him was someone determined—someone ready for whatever came next. If this was a game, then he would play it. But he would play it his way. There was no room for mistakes, no room for panic.
His phone buzzed again—5:41 p.m. The seconds seemed to stretch, then compress. There was no turning back now.
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At exactly 5:42 p.m., the world around Aaron shifted.
One second, he was in his room, preparing himself. The next, the floor beneath his feet disappeared, and he felt himself plummeting into the unknown. His stomach flipped as a sharp coldness enveloped him. He braced himself for a crash, but instead, the fall slowed, as if the air itself was catching him.
Then, just as suddenly as it began, everything stopped.
He stood on solid ground, but this wasn't his room anymore. This wasn't even Earth anymore. The world around him felt… wrong.
He took a few steps forward, his boots sinking slightly into the soft, uneven ground, a cold mist rising around his legs. The air was thick, damp, and carried the faintest odor of rot, as if the land itself was decaying. The sky above was a swirling mass of dark clouds, deep purple and black, but there was no sun, no sign of light. It felt like night had swallowed the sky whole.
Around him, there were jagged rocks, twisted trees with gnarled limbs, and strange, eerie shapes that lurked just out of sight. The world felt like it was constantly shifting, as though the ground could give way at any moment. Alex's senses were on high alert. This wasn't a dream, and it wasn't a simulation. He was here. And whatever this place was, it was real.
Then the voice spoke.
"Welcome to the game," the voice intoned, cold and emotionless, its tone reverberating through his mind. "You have been chosen. Now you will begin. Survive or perish. The choice is yours."
The voice cut off abruptly, leaving Aaron standing in the silence of this strange land.
He blinked a few times, his heart still pounding, before he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't alone.
In front of him, five other people stood scattered across the desolate landscape. Some of them seemed as disoriented as Aaron, while others appeared to be more composed, surveying their surroundings with wariness and calculation. Aaron stepped toward them, his instincts telling him it was better to stick together than face whatever this world threw at them alone.
The first person he noticed was a young man, about his age, standing to the far right. He was looking around, his face pale with fear, but his eyes darting quickly as if searching for a way out.
Next, Aaron saw the others—a tall woman with short, spiky hair, standing with her arms crossed and her gaze fixed on the horizon. A man with a muscular build and a scowl, clearly older than Aaron, was nearby, scanning the area. A smaller woman with sharp features seemed tense, her eyes constantly moving, as though she was assessing every possible threat in the area. And finally, another man stood near the middle, leaning against a rock with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. His face was unreadable, but there was a quiet confidence about him.
The silence stretched for a few moments before the tall woman with spiky hair spoke up.
"Looks like we're all in the same boat," she said, her voice carrying easily through the heavy air. "This isn't just a random event. We've all been pulled into this game. I've been here before. I'm an experienced player. Trust me, you don't want to wander around unprepared. Stick with me, and I'll show you how to survive."
Aaron studied her carefully. Her words sounded like the truth, but something about her demeanor struck him as slightly too calm. What did she mean by "experienced player"? Was she part of some previous game? Or was she just someone who had survived longer than the rest of them?
The man with the muscular build nodded. "She's right. We've got to stick together if we want any chance. We don't know what's out there."
The others seemed to agree, though they were still sizing each other up. Aaron hesitated, glancing over at the young man who seemed to be the most unsettled. He caught his eye, and the boy gave him a weak, nervous smile, as though looking for some kind of reassurance.
Aaron turned back to the group, his voice firm but calm.
"I'm Leo",he said, deciding to tell them his fake name since he doesn't trust anyone. No reason to reveal too much. "I don't know how or why we're here, but right now, we need to focus on surviving."
One by one, the others introduced themselves, their names and professions following the same pattern—brief, straightforward, and slightly guarded.
The young man introduced himself as Eli, a university student, and seemed just as nervous as Aaron had been when he first arrived.
The woman with the spiky hair went next, introducing herself as Sophie, and confirmed her experience in these types of games. Aaron caught a glimmer of something in her eyes—something that told him she had seen much worse than what they had encountered so far.
The older man was Mark, a personal trainer by trade, who seemed more cautious than the others but didn't speak much.
The small woman with sharp features was Leah, a freelance writer, who, despite her slight frame, held herself with a quiet intensity.
Finally, the last man—who had remained mostly silent up until now—introduced himself as Jace, a mechanic. His expression was unreadable, and he seemed the most distant of the group, though not unfriendly.
"We need to find shelter," Sophie said, once everyone had introduced themselves. "And quickly. The game doesn't give us much time to waste. We'll figure things out as we go."
Aaron glanced around. A large, imposing structure loomed ahead, its shape barely visible through the dense mist. It looked like a building, but one that had been abandoned for centuries. The sign above the door read:
Soulfire Kitchen
The letters were faded, the wood worn down from years of neglect. But what struck Aaron most was the ominous feel it gave off. It was as though the building was waiting for them.
Without a word, the group began to move toward it, their steps hesitant but deliberate. The gate, rusted and broken, creaked open on its own as if beckoning them inside.
Aaron couldn't help but wonder: What was this place? And why had they been brought here?
But there was no time for questions now. They had a new mission: Survive. The game had begun.