A flicker of static cracked through the air like reality was glitching. The space in front of him twisted and shimmered until a glowing blue rectangle hovered in midair.
Digital letters etched themselves into the light:
[Welcome, Subject #017]
[DESIRE SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
[Main Mission: Survive the Trials]
[Desire Detected: None]
Art's eyes narrowed. "What the hell is this… some kind of game?" he muttered under his breath.
Just then, the sterile white door in front of him slid open with a soft hiss.
"Subject #017"… They even gave me a code name?
Art rose to his feet and stepped into the hallway.
It wasn't just him.
People stood scattered throughout a long corridor. Dozens maybe hundreds and they weren't dressed like anyone he'd ever seen. One man wore thick medieval armor with a broadsword strapped to his waist. Another had robes resembling ancient Eastern dynasties. Some wore what looked like futuristic suits, while others donned clothing from cultures long extinct… or possibly never real at all.
Art's instincts flared.
Different eras? Different worlds?
A loud, panicked voice broke the tension.
"WHERE ARE WE?!" a fat man shouted from the far end of the corridor, his face red with panic.
"Calm yourself, boy!" snapped a man in polished armor, stepping forward. He rested a gloved hand on his sword. "We're all just as confused as you."
Art glanced at himself. His sleek black suit the one he'd worn for his last mission was intact. But his guns, his cigarettes, his gear… all gone.
They stripped me clean, but left the outfit. Cute.
Then, a timid voice rose from the crowd.
"I-I… I have a question…" a girl said, nervously raising her hand. She wore a dirt-stained white dress, her head wrapped in a faded cloth. Her appearance screamed "noble maid" from some old European aristocracy.
"Before arriving here… do any of you remember what happened?" she asked quietly.
Art casually raised a hand. "I was outside. Smoking. Then out of nowhere, a massive meteor lit up the sky and boom. Everything went white."
"Meteor?" she repeated, confused.
Art narrowed his eyes. Never heard of one? Based on her clothes… maybe she's from a world where they haven't even discovered fire properly.
"Just forget it," he said quickly.
The armored man stepped forward and removed his helmet. His face was rugged short-cropped hair, a scar slashing across his right eye. "A ball of fire from the heavens… is that what you meant?"
"Yeah," Art nodded. "A huge flaming rock. Fell from the sky like hell itself opened up."
Then it happened.
People all around the room gasped.
Their eyes widened.
One by one, their hands shot into the air.
"I saw that too!"
"That's exactly what happened to me!"
"I remember the light!"
"I was praying when it came down!"
The entire hallway erupted in a storm of overlapping voices.
Art stood still in the middle of it all, his mind racing.
The man in armor raised his hand high. His voice boomed with authority.
"Everyone, silence!"
The chatter came to an abrupt stop. All eyes turned toward him.
"Since we've all been brought here by some unknown force, we should at least know who we are. Name, origin, what you did in your world and if possible, what world you came from."
His tone was calm, but commanding. His eyes, sharp and focused.
Different worlds...? Art narrowed his eyes. So he's figured it out too.
The armored man stepped forward and placed a hand on his chest with pride.
"I'll go first. My name is Kret Ezeema. I'm a high-ranking general from the Kingdom of Weaponry. My world… has no name, for it was forged through war, not peace."
A ripple of whispers filled the room.
"Whoa… a general?"
"He must be insanely strong..."
"Kingdom of Weaponry? That sounds brutal."
Then a timid voice followed.
"I-I'll go second…"
Everyone turned as the young girl in the tattered maid uniform raised her hand.
"My name is Ivana. I don't have a last name... Slaves like me weren't allowed to have one. I lived in a city called Dualeige in my world, Dualtarot. My job was… a maid. For a noble family."
More murmurs echoed through the crowd.
"That's messed up…"
"She's so young…"
"...She's cute though. Maybe when we get out, I can-"
"Shut your damn mouth," someone snapped, silencing the creep.
Then Art slowly raised his hand.
"I'll go next."
He took a step forward, his expression cold.
"My name's Art. No last name. Don't ask."
He paused, rubbing his temple as a sharp pain struck him.
"Ugh… My city... I can't remember it," he muttered under his breath.
"Anyway, I'm from a world called Earth. My job? I was a hitman."
"A hitman?" Kret raised a brow.
Art turned to him, unfazed. "I kill people for money."
A small wave of unease passed through the room.
"Money? Disgraceful," Kret scoffed. "A rogue warrior without a cause. Pathetic."
Art's eyes locked with his cold, sharp, dangerous.
"Better a rogue with a purpose than a puppet of a throne."
The tension was thick.
But the introductions had only just begun.
After the intense introductions, the crowd began to loosen up. Conversations sparked left and right some discovering they came from the same city, others realizing they lived entire lifetimes apart across different worlds.
A strange harmony hovered in the room nobles, slaves, soldiers, and assassins, all thrown into the same twisted fate.
But peace never lasts long.
Suddenly, a voice cracked through the growing chatter.
"The hell is this bullshit?!"
Everyone turned.
It was the curly-mustached noble from earlier the same man who had made that disturbing comment about Ivana. His eyes were wide with disbelief, strands of his long hair clutched tightly in his trembling hands.
On his glowing system screen, bold letters were displayed for all to see.
[Welcome, Subject #100]
[Main Mission: Survive the Trials]
[Desire Detected: Lust]
[Desire Quest: Conquer that bitch]
[Reward: She submits to you]
Gasps echoed across the room.
The man's lip curled into an awkward smirk, trying to play it off. "I-It's asking me to conquer that maid from earlier… heh. I mean, I don't want to do it. Forcing girls ain't my style, y'know?" He laughed nervously.
Kret's footsteps were heavy as he marched up to him, armor clinking.
"What did you just say?" His voice was low, dangerous.
The noble's eyes flicked nervously. "It said my desire is lust! It gave me this quest I didn't choose it! I don't even wanna accept it!"
"Then reject it, bastard," Kret growled.
"I… I don't see a button to reject wait…"
Suddenly, another message appeared on the screen.
[Would you like to reject the quest?]
[WARNING: No Rejection Token Detected]
[Choosing 'No' will auto-lock acceptance.]
[Yes / No]
The noble stared at it. His fingers hovered for a moment, then dropped.
"…Fuck it. I don't care."
He tapped NO.
For a heartbeat, everything was still.
Then
BZZZZZT.
A beam of searing white light exploded from the ceiling like a divine executioner. It struck him dead-center his head disintegrated in an instant, vaporized into a mist of red. Bones, brain, and blood burst out in all directions, painting the pristine white floor in gore.
Kret stood still, red droplets sliding down the silver of his breastplate.
Screams erupted. Panic spread like wildfire.
"AHHHHHHHH!!!" "WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!" "HE'S DEAD! HE'S FREAKING DEAD!!"
Some people tried to run, others collapsed in fear.
Art narrowed his eyes. "So that's the cost of refusal…"
Zero emotion. Just cold, ruthless enforcement.
A single decision punished by death.
Kret clenched his fists, a chill crawling down his spine.
"The system isn't playing games," he muttered.
The survivors now truly understood:
Desire wasn't optional.
It was a curse they would carry or die trying to defy.