"—look at the one with blue hair. He's been calculating distances between the kids since the first two minutes. Could be useful for team movement mapping."
"The girl next to him? No. Too fragile. The moment she's intimidated, she reacts. Easy to provoke."
"Note: Psycho-reactive, emotion-dominant, high chance of becoming a liability."
The room was dim, sterile, and freezing cold.
Click, click, click — dozens of fingers danced across transparent panels, recording, sorting, analyzing. On the front wall, four massive screens streamed live footage from inside "the cage." The children's voices behind the digital glass were dialed low, like a TV left on for background noise during overtime.
Seated among them was a man with long white hair. Young face, handsome even, but eyes that were ancient — and empty. The name on his badge: Curator Mirell
Division: RESET - NEMIROS
He lifted his teacup. Blew gently. "…Lucienne still acting like she owns the world?"
"Yup," one of his staff replied. "And now she's got a 'personal servant'. A boy. Too obedient. Like a puppy."
"Interesting."
He typed rapidly, pulling up profiles of the two. Facial scans, heartbeat patterns, speech rhythms — even the average foot pressure during movement.
"I want to see her face when that 'puppy' stabs her in the back." The staff beside him laughed. "Curator, please… no spoilers. We need organic drama for Phase Two."
One of the screens zoomed in on a corner of the room — where Rivea, Kael, and Solen stood. The trio said nothing. But their presence... wasn't something the other kids could match.
"That girl…" A staff member pointed at Rivea. "…terrifying. Are we sure she's only eleven?"
Mirell gave a faint smile. "Physical age and soul age aren't the same. And she… isn't a child. She's a relic. A leftover from an era we should've buried."
"And we're putting her in this experiment?" Mirell stood, slowly. Walked to the front screen, staring at his own reflection overlaid on the feed of children.
"We don't throw away treasure… We test it. Over and over. Until it breaks. Or until she breaks us first."
Another screen focused on Lucienne, whispering sweetly and pretending to be elegant. A different staffer frowned. "She's too theatrical. But she understands 'roles'. Probably knows the cameras are there."
"And she likes being filmed. Leave her. Sometimes, we need clowns to distract from the real monster."
The final screen showed the kids scrambling to form groups. Pulling. Lying. Panicking. Some with plans. Most without. All of it… recorded.
And Mirell, head of NEMIROS, let out a small, delighted laugh. "Humans really are... a circus that never ends."
"She's mine."
Lucienne pointed with the tip of her gleaming white boot — just as absurd as her confidence. Her fur coat fluttered dramatically, even though there was no wind. Arms outstretched, like the world was her opera stage and she — of course — the star.
Rivea froze mid-step, still drenched in blood, eyes half-empty but razor sharp. Kael turned, wearing the expression of "I swear on my spine, this girl's begging to die." Soren had already taken one step back, like someone who didn't want to be in the frame when the crime news aired.
"Listen, darling," Lucienne's voice was sugar-laced poison — sweet, but stomach-turning. "You'd be perfect as my left hand. Or right. Or whatever part serves me best. Look at you! Even your hair looks wild — and I love that."
The other kids whispered. Some giggled. Some shook their heads. But none stepped forward. Not when the girl she pointed at stood there with blood on her chin and nails sharp as forged thorns.
Rivea slowly turned. "...Who are you?"
Lucienne blinked, as if the question was the height of insult. "Lucienne de Varyss. Heir of the superior line. Future leader. The light among—"
"That's not what I meant." Rivea cut her off, eyes narrowing. "I mean… who are you to think you can tug a wolf's tail and invite her to tea?"
Kael burst out laughing. Loud and shameless. "God, I missed you, Riv."
Lucienne opened her mouth again, but Kael beat her to it — throwing an arm over Rivea's shoulders like a high schooler claiming their lunch-table crew. "Sorry, Princess. She's with us. It's a bundle deal. You get one, you take the other two. No refunds."
"Trio?" Lucienne repeated, like the word itself was diseased. "Seriously. You think that's… cool?"
Soren half-raised a hand. "Statistically, our group has the highest overkill ratio. So. Uh. Yeah."
Lucienne scoffed, then spun dramatically like a rejected diva mid-audition. But her gaze didn't leave Rivea — and now, it wasn't just ego. There was something else.
Not admiration for her strength. But fascination with her danger.
In the corner, camera four blinked. And from the upper floor, the Nemiros analysts — including Curator Mirell — began to smile. Marking the sparks that might soon become wildfire.
"I've got one," Kael said suddenly, hands shoved into his pockets, voice too casual — like he was picking snacks from a vending machine. Except the one he pointed at...
"...that one?" Soren frowned, glancing toward the far corner of the room.
A kid sat curled up in the darkest spot, back against the wall, long black hair covering most of their face — like a Japanese horror character that missed their casting call. Their body was thin, barely moving — if they hadn't blinked, you'd mistake them for a corpse doll.
"Name's Noz," Kael said, like he'd known all along. "Heard one of the cameras mention it earlier. Noz. That's all we got. But he hasn't been eliminated, hasn't been bothered, no one's touched him. He's just... there."
"And that's why you picked him?" Rivea asked flatly, one eyebrow arched.
"Exactly. A normal kid in a place this insane?" Kael grinned, sharp. "Either he's a hidden boss, or... something even more fun. I like surprises."
Soren glanced at Rivea, who paused for a beat before shrugging. "If he's an idiot, we ditch him. If he's crazy... maybe we get to play with him."
Kael immediately waved in Noz's direction.
"Yooo! Wanna join? You don't have to speak. Just nod once."
Noz raised his head slightly. His hair shifted. No words. But… one small nod.
Then he stood. Slowly. No sound. His movement was stiff — but too symmetrical. Kael clapped softly. "Okay, that's creepy. I like him already."
The trio became a quartet. But one slot remained. And as the other kids began side-eyeing each other with suspicion, the room's atmosphere thickened — like a pool of blood slowly coming to a boil.
Noz stood among them, but it felt more like a shadow than a person. No words, no heavy breathing, no eye contact. Just… stillness.
His arms hung straight by his sides, fingers pale like they'd been soaked in formalin, and his gaze—if you could even call it that—wasn't fixed on anything.
Soren had already tried to talk to him twice.
Failed both times. Kael, of course, went the absurd route again. "Hey, can you sleep standing up too? Show us."
No answer. But Noz's eyes shifted. Barely.
Rivea watched closely, a finger to her chin, then muttered, "He feels like... something that's waiting for a signal. Not silent because he can't talk, but because it's not time to talk yet."
"Yeesh," Kael chuckled. "Did we recruit a someone or a something, huh?"
Rivea was just about to toss back a sarcastic jab when a sweet voice interrupted. "Hii~! You guys are already a group of four, huh?"
They all turned.
A girl approached with a light step. Curly light brown hair tied with a pink ribbon, porcelain-like skin, big mint-green eyes that sparkled like candy… and a smile. A wide, perfect smile. Too perfect. Like it had been glued onto her face.
"I'm Alyen! But you can call me Ayi! Can I join you guys?" Her hands were folded behind her back, head tilted just slightly—too cute for a room this brutal.
Kael blinked slowly. "Uh… you sure? We're not exactly a bake-sale club."
Alyen's grin widened. "But you all look so… fun." Her eyes flicked to Noz, then to Rivea. There was a split-second pause—and in that instant, her gaze sharpened. Then went soft again.
"I like teams that are... balanced. The loud one, the serious one, the mysterious one—and you." She locked eyes with Rivea. "You're interesting."
Rivea stared back, blank. "Well," Kael muttered, "looks like we've got our comic relief."
Soren grumbled, "I'd rather deal with the creepy quiet kid than a girl who smiles like that."
Noz suddenly moved. Everyone tensed—
But all he did… was step a little closer to Rivea. Alyen blinked sweetly. "Ooh~ possessive, huh?"
Rivea let out a long sigh. "Fine. But if you get annoying, I'm giving you to Lucienne. She's in the market for new minions."
Alyen put a finger to her lips, like sharing a secret, and nodded. "Deal~"
And just like that, the five-person group was complete. But something had shifted. The air around them felt a little heavier. Or maybe... more fake.
Because that sweet smile was far too smooth for a world built on teeth and claws.
The screen above the room lit up without warning, accompanied by the screeching of metal—like something inside the wall had cracked itself open.
[FINAL TEAM DATA CONFIRMED.]
[THE GAME BEGINS.]
The voice wasn't human. Too round. Too even. Like a machine pretending to know how to speak like us.
"Free team selection?" Kael raised an eyebrow. "Or was this all rigged from the start?"
Rivea licked the last trace of dried blood from her finger. "If it was rigged, their taste sucks."
Then, names began to appear on the screen.
[Team 01 – Rivea's Team]
- Rivea Kaelith
- Kael Veyne
- Solen Vire
- Noz Harvin
- Alyen Verra
The most absurd composition: raw instinct, reckless chaos, the stillness of death, and a smile too sweet to be trusted. Every flavor of danger, gift-wrapped in one neat little box.
[Team 02 – Lucienne's Court]
- Lucienne de Varyss
- Noir Vellanic
- Lumière Auné
- Gio Caelen
- Vale Caelen
[Team 03 – Bone Kids]
- Drein Kratsel
- Brikka
- Sol Emmeren
- Thy
- Fen
[Team 04 – Choir of Teeth]
- Elen Mirevault
- Vetch Ronille
- Klem Alderick
- Rayn Mercier
- Sil Mercier
[Team 05 – Puppeteer's Room]
- Alric Danevyr
- Mina Follaine
- Jurell Kavant
- Trax
- Deno
[Team 06 – Graveyard Jokes]
- Sikk Pellmere
- Vina Thirley
- Oxa Delarne
- Linx
- Harker
In the strange silence that followed, Alyen clapped her hands gently. "Yay~ everyone's here now~! How cute."
"Cute in what universe?" Soren muttered. Kael let out a short laugh. "Like a birthday party... except every guest's a psychopath."
Rivea's eyes flicked to the darkening screen.
"Now we just wait for someone to light the cake… and set us all on fire."
The speaker crackled again.
[NEXT SELECTION BEGINS AT DAWN. RESOLVE PERSONAL CONFLICTS BEFORE THEN.]
And then—darkness.