The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, reverberating through the vast chamber.
As the echoes of the strange runes faded into the air, a figure materialized in front of the gate. At first, it was nothing more than a distortion in the space between worlds, but soon enough, its form became clear. Belial's gaze sharpened, and he froze, unable to look away. The creature was unlike anything he had ever seen.
Its features were alien, unsettling. Its shape was vaguely humanoid, though it carried an unsettling air of wrongness. The figure wore a suit and tie—at least, it seemed to—but its proportions were skewed, disturbingly off. The limbs were too long, stretching in a way that defied logic, and the way it held its posture was more akin to negligence than grace. The thing seemed as though it could snap at any moment, yet there was something deliberate in its movements.
Belial, ever aware of his own past, could not help but feel a pang of familiarity. Negligence. The word echoed in his mind.
He had once been like that—weak, aimless, a creature of bad habits. After all Belial himself is one—was! past tense! he's reformed and no longer a couch potato.
Still, there was something about the creature's presence that felt… commanding. Despite its frail, disheveled appearance, the way it stood, its shoulders straight and its head held high, radiated an undeniable authority.
"Hello, You may refer to me as The director," the creature began, its tone both welcoming and shot.
"I know some of you are new here, And I know you have questions. But understand this: it is a privilege to be here. This is a place that only a select few can enter. Some of you seek adventure, some for the thrill of the hunt and some of you came here to be bestowed a 'Domain'. Whatever your reasons, you have been chosen."
The creature paused, its large eyes scanning the crowd before continuing. "The device on your wrist is called a V.I.S.O.R—Vital and Inventory System for Operational Regulation. It will serve as your identification, your communication device, and much more. However, all but one of these functions will be available in this Act."
Soon, light covered the room, and then they were transported.
The disorienting hum of the transition still lingered in their ears as they found themselves in a new world. The sudden shift from one reality to another left a faint, lingering sense of vertigo.
They stood in the middle of a sterile, white space—an environment so foreign it almost felt like a dream. A hotel lobby of sorts, but the atmosphere was cold and unwelcoming, as though it wasn't built for living, just for existing.
The floors were smooth, polished, and white, stretching endlessly in every direction. The walls mirrored the same pristine, clinical hue, devoid of texture or warmth.
Belial squinted, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. He could hear murmurs and confused voices behind him, a cacophony of disbelief. Some were too stunned to speak, others questioning the situation in frantic tones, but one thing was clear: hey were no longer in their own world—wherever that was. This place… this strange place, was a different realm altogether.
"This is… a strange place," the voice from before echoed through the sterile space.
The speaker was standing at the far end of the room, a figure with the same detached authority that had spoken earlier. He didn't flinch as chaos erupted around him. "You will be the first ones there. This new world."
A few gasps cut through the murmur of confusion. Some people yelled in protest, others simply stood, wide-eyed, unsure of what was happening.
Belial felt a pang of discomfort, but he quickly suppressed it. He was used to strange, overwhelming situations. He had become something new, something different—no longer the slothful, lazy version of himself. He had chosen a path of purpose, and nothing could shake his resolve now. The others, however, were not so calm.
One voice, trembling with uncertainty, shouted into the air, "What are we supposed to do here? What is this place?"
The figure—the one who had summoned them—raised a hand, silencing the growing hysteria with a simple motion.
"Don't worry," he said, his voice carrying an eerie calm that seemed to quell the panic. "The VISOR has another function that is only available during this act. But you will have to figure out that function yourself."
What was he talking about?
"You can bring only one item, armor or weapon with you," the man continued. "one thing, everything else must be left behind."
It was then that a strange, grey-white holographic screen appeared before Belial's eyes, flickering to life with a soft hum. The others seemed to experience the same thing. The display was clear but minimalistic in design, displaying only the most essential information.
Name: Belial Noctis
Rank: Catalyst
Weapons: ---
Armor(1): ---
Items(1): Room Key
Belial's eyes narrowed at the screen. The words were clear enough, but the mention of a "Room Key" as his only armor was odd. Was this all they were being given? A key?
He noticed a small icon—marked with a +1—near the item section. Curiosity piqued, he clicked on it.
Xin's screen flickered, and a new key appeared, emblazoned with the number 68.
"Wait," Belial murmured under his breath. It seemed they had all been assigned keys. He glanced at Xin, whose own screen displayed 72 and Raven, who had a key numbered 116.
Then he felt a magnetic pull although weak— it was still there,
Belial's caught on quickly. "I think..,we can combine our keys," he said aloud, his voice steady. "Let's do that."
Xin and Raven exchanged looks, then nodded in agreement. It was a smart move—if they could fuse their keys, they'd secure a larger space, perhaps better prepared for whatever lay ahead.
With a few swipes of their fingers, the three of them fused their keys into one. The display shimmered as their individual numbers merged, and the result was a single key—Room 68, marked with all three of their names.
The moment the fusion was complete, the keys seemed to hum in synchronization. Without further words, they began walking down the long, white hallway that stretched out before them.
Every step seemed to echo off the walls, amplifying the silence around them. The hallway stretched on and on, each door they passed indistinguishable from the next. The air was thick with anticipation and uncertainty, but they pressed forward, not speaking, only focused on reaching their designated room.
Finally, they arrived. The door to Room 68 was before them, unmarked, save for the glowing number 68 above it.
The place was massive—far larger than Xin's home by a considerable margin. It had everything a proper residence would need: three spacious rooms, a fully equipped kitchen, and even a bath. A home, albeit temporary, but a comfortable one.
They all sat in the living room, sinking into the couch as Xin fumbled with the VISOR interface. His fingers swiped clumsily across the holographic controls, and then something shifted. The walls flickered, the furniture rearranged, and the decor changed in an instant. His eyes widened in delight.
"Bel…i wanted to ask, that name you picked—does it mean something? Aside from, y'know, going under the radar?"
Belial hesitated for a moment, his fingers twitching at his side before he finally answered.
"This name… was my father's name."
Xin blinked, caught off guard. "Oh. What was he like?"
A soft, wistful smile tugged at the corners of Belial's lips, but his eyes held something deeper—something distant. "He was a kind man…He loved spending time with me. Quite a lot, actually." He exhaled a quiet chuckle, though there was a tremor in it. "He's the reason I love history so much. He always encouraged me, no matter what I got into… even my stupid obsession with Stupid videogames."
The flickering light in his expression dimmed, and for a moment, silence hung between them.
I miss you, Father.
Xin didn't say anything, just reached out and gave Belial a firm pat on the shoulder. Some things weren't meant to be pried into—some wounds weren't meant to be reopened.
"He seemed like a great guy," Xin said softly. Then, with a glance at the interface in the corner of his vision, he changed the subject. "We have an hour, right?"
Raven nodded.
Without another word, Xin got to work, weaving warmth into the once-sterile walls of the house. Bit by bit, the space transformed—no longer just an empty shell, but something that, for a fleeting moment, could be called home.
Soon, it was just him and Raven. The silence was heavy, but Xin decided to break it.
"So, what do you think we're getting ourselves into?" he asked, his tone casual, though curiosity burned in his chest.
"Danger," Raven answered without hesitation. "Most likely an extreme one at that. And it is still my job to protect you—that is my promise." His voice carried through the small holes of his armor, metallic and unwavering.
Belial, sitting nearby, smiled faintly. It was rare for someone to make such a vow to him, and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. A part of him wanted to know more.
"Why are you going through so much to protect me?" he asked.
Raven turned his head slightly but did not respond right away. Then, after a pause, he simply said, "I have my reasons."
Belial considered pressing further, but he knew it would be pointless. With a quiet sigh, he retreated to his room, his mind tangled in thought.
As he rummaged through his bag—one he hadn't had the chance to properly check since Cole's men retrieved their belongings—his fingers brushed against something unexpected. Two things, in fact. His breath hitched as he pulled them free.
Bloodfang. The curved longsword gleamed under the dim light, its edge as sharp as ever. And then, something even more surprising—a black jacket.
That same mysterious black jacket.
Belial frowned, turning it over in his hands. How had Cole's people found this? He hadn't seen it in days. A mystery for another time.
With a sigh, he tossed the jacket onto the bed and sat down. The mattress was softer than he expected—almost too inviting. Exhaustion pulled at him, but sleep refused to come. His thoughts twisted and turned, replaying the disaster their plan had become. They were off course, their next steps uncertain.
They needed a way out. Carefully. Methodically. And this time, they couldn't afford any mistakes.
An hour passed quickly. When they regrouped, standing side by side, a familiar voice filled the air.
"The Act will begin in ten seconds. Wish you the best, Actors."
Everything went black. Layers of glowing runes spiraled in Belial's vision, collapsing inward toward a single, inescapable point. A force yanked him forward—sudden, absolute.
Then, a voice—soft, yet disturbingly inviting—drifted through the void.
ㄴWelcome, Dear Actor, to your first Act! Wishing you the best… in your survival.ㄱ
Is it me or did it sound mockingly?
Then Darkness swallowed them whole.
A tunnel.
No A tomb.
The air hung thick, suffocating, laced with a pungent, invisible menace. Xin inhaled cautiously. His stomach twisted as recognition set in.
Methane?