The blue window still floated in the air, casting its cold light in the middle of the city in turmoil. Already plunged into confusion and fear, the inhabitants saw their panic reach new heights. Screams mingled together, forming an unbearable cacophony: cries, howls, moans of anguish. The streets became an ocean of moving bodies, human waves desperately seeking an escape from a situation that seemed to offer none.
Some held their heads in their hands, whispering in broken voices:
"It's the end of the world... we're all going to die..."
Others, more incredulous, shook their heads, their eyes wide, oscillating between fear and a form of denial.
"No... no, this isn't real... It must be a virtual experience, a new hyper-immersive program... Yes, that must be it..." a young man tried to explain, his trembling voice betraying his lack of conviction.
But his words were drowned out by the collective murmur. The human mass was no longer listening to anything, carried away by its own chaos. Groups formed and immediately broke apart, each trying to understand the incomprehensible. Hands reached out toward the luminous windows floating in front of them, others tried to sweep them away with desperate gestures, but nothing worked: they remained frozen, oppressive, imposing their unreal presence.
In that moment of extreme confusion, a clear, crystalline voice cut through the turmoil. A childlike voice, light but strangely powerful, rose from the sky itself. Each word vibrated in the air, resonating in everyone's eardrums, as if it were addressed directly to the soul of every being present.
"Humans... calm down."
Silence did not fall immediately, but the cries grew weaker, as if crushed by the resonance of this innocent yet authoritative tone. Eyes looked up in disbelief, scanning a sky that had taken on disturbing blue-violet hues.
"The situation you find yourselves in... is your own fault."
A shiver ran through the crowd. People exchanged bewildered glances, unable to understand the meaning of these words. What fault was this voice talking about? How could their world, so ordinary just minutes ago, have turned into such a nightmare? Confused murmurs rose:
"Our fault? What does that mean?"
"But... what have we done?"
The childish voice continued, relentless:
"Your lives are now at stake. The introductory puzzle is about to begin."
This sentence, delivered like a sentence, sparked a new wave of panic. Some began to run aimlessly, others remained frozen, paralyzed by fear. Faces contorted, bodies trembled, and in the heavy air, a chilling truth dawned: no one understood what was happening, but everyone knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
The sky vibrated, the earth seemed to hold its breath, and the whole world was tipping toward a fate that was completely beyond their control.
Koan, still frozen on the cinema's rooftop terrace, stared at the blue window floating before her eyes. The words she had just read still echoed in her mind like a haunting refrain: "The introductory riddle is about to begin. "
"What does that mean...?" she thought, her breath short. That childish voice, falling from the sky like a verdict, suggested that this was only the beginning. But the beginning of what? She couldn't help but make the connection with this strange virtual interface that had appeared before her.
Curiosity overcame her fear. Koan slowly raised her hand, hesitant, her trembling fingers approaching the luminous surface. She expected to feel resistance, a cold or hard material, but there was nothing. Her hand passed through the blue screen without any difficulty, as if it were just an illusion, a simple hologram.
A shiver ran down her spine. She immediately withdrew her hand, then tried again, incredulous. Still nothing: the window offered no resistance. It was like dipping her fingers into warm, empty air.
"So... it's just a game? A virtual reality simulation?" she whispered, a bitter smile touching her lips. There was something reassuring about this hypothesis. The idea that all this was just an immersive experience, a sophisticated program, perhaps explained the absurdity unfolding before her eyes.
Yet, behind this fragile comfort, another thought assailed her: what if it wasn't a game? What if the window, like the child's voice, wasn't just an illusion, but the prelude to a very real nightmare?
Koan stood motionless for a moment, her gaze fixed on the blue light that pulsed gently, as if it were breathing with her. A dull anxiety was already creeping into her chest, but she tried to stay in control, to convince herself that she was just a character trapped in an experiment whose rules she did not yet know.
The light from the blue window suddenly intensified, forcing Koan to squint. All over the city, people stopped in their tracks, mesmerized by what was displayed before them. The characters appeared slowly, as if engraved on the surface of the air by an invisible hand.
[Introductory puzzle: -The Suffocating Tunnels-]
The following lines scrolled by immediately, relentless.
[Introductory puzzle: -The Suffocating Tunnels-
Explanation: You are in a toxic area where the air is unbreathable.
Reach the {safe zone} by taking one of the three magic tunnels in the Ariake district.
To safely cross the tunnels, you have oxygen masks located in the equipment zones. There are three equipment zones in total, each connected to a tunnel of the same name:
- Shinonome
- Toyosu
- Harumi
Time: 25 minutes
Rule: - After the first two minutes, a faulty equipment zone will be revealed to you.
- You will still be able to change zones after the faulty zone is revealed.
- After 5 minutes have passed, you will only be able to use the mask located in the equipment zone you chose.
- The masks have a total oxygen consumption indicated.
- It is impossible to cross a tunnel without an oxygen mask.
Failure: Asphyxiation]
The words glowed with supernatural intensity, floating in front of each human being like a sentence from another world. In the streets, people stared in disbelief, and a visceral anxiety gripped the crowds. The heavy silence that followed the appearance of the text was almost more terrifying than the previous panic.
One man, his voice trembling, dared to break the silence:
"Say... in the failure section... it does say asphyxiation, doesn't it?"
No one answered him. Heads bowed, lips tightened. Everyone knew he was right, but no one had the courage to confirm the word aloud. The idea of suffocating, of struggling for air until life slipped away, paralyzed their bodies and froze their minds. Some clung to the arms of their loved ones, others trembled silently, their eyes misty with tears. The collective fear formed an invisible blanket, weighing down each breath that had already become heavy.
Koan remained frozen in front of the blue window. Her eyes widened, not out of fear, but out of a strange lucidity. Asphyxiation. This word, which reduced so many beings to anguish, resonated for her like a veiled deliverance. If all this was real, if this enigma could indeed decide their fate, then she held in her hands a way out that she would never have dared to provoke on her own. Wouldn't dying like this, trapped in an implacable ordeal, be more dignified than sinking into darkness and oblivion?
While the others were already suffocating with anxiety, Koan savored a disturbing thought: failure, far from being merely a threat, could also be a form of liberation for her.
Noticing that one woman, more frail than the others, was already collapsing to the ground, her hands clutched to her throat, everyone realized that the toxic gas was not just a future threat: it was already taking effect. Her breathing was wheezy and ragged, and her face was turning purple. Those around her tried to help, but without masks or any immediate solution, their actions were nothing more than helpless panic.
A shiver ran through the crowd. Everyone began to think frantically, fear pounding in their temples. Eyes looked up, looked down, searching for some hidden logic in this enigma, but as the seconds ticked by, the evidence became clearer.
"But... but..." stammered a man, holding his head in his hands, "how can we know which path to choose? It's... it's just chance, nothing else!" "
His broken voice echoed in the tumult, awakening murmurs and cries.
Another, his eyes wild, almost pleaded:
"So... we just have to choose a tunnel at random... and pray that it's the right one? "
The words hung in the heavy air, creating even greater distress. For now, it was no longer fear alone that gnawed at them, but the cruel idea that their survival did not depend on their intelligence or courage... but only on luck.
"Damn divine voice!" shouted a man, his features contorted with anger and fear. "A riddle, my ass! No, it's just a method of execution for us!" His voice echoed through the crowded streets, almost drowning out the cries of anguish around him.
A dull depression began to settle among the crowd. Shoulders slumped, faces closed. Everyone knew, deep down, that this ordeal was not a matter of merit, courage, or intelligence: it was a cruel game of roulette, a test of luck that arbitrarily decided who would survive and who would suffocate.
Yet, amid the chaos, a calmer voice attempted to bring some semblance of rationality:
"There seems to be an unlimited number of masks, regardless of the area chosen. So... we can all make the choice we want, in good conscience."
This statement brought a strange mixture of relief and frustration. Relief, because it meant that survival was not strictly limited to a small group of lucky ones; frustration, because the fear of a fatal outcome remained omnipresent. Eyes met, hesitation visible on every face: each person now had to decide, with a knot of anxiety in their throat, which tunnel to take and which mask to choose, without certainty, without a safety net.
As everyone moved forward, looking heavy and depressed, toward one of the tunnels, a young boy remained motionless, detached from the crowd. His eyes scanned the sky, the blue window, then the masks and tunnels, as if he were trying to unravel a mystery invisible to others. He seemed to be thinking with an intensity that no one around him dared to show, as if he sensed that a real solution existed, beyond mere chance.
A passerby, still breathing heavily, approached him, a mixture of disbelief and annoyance in his voice:
"Why do you look so thoughtful, young man?" he asked, his eyes fixed on the boy. "Just listen to your instincts... and pray that it's the right answer."
The young boy did not answer immediately. His lips remained closed, his eyebrows furrowed.
Lost in thought, the young boy sat up slightly, his eyes shining with a rare lucidity amid the general panic. He murmured, almost to himself, but loud enough for a few people around him to hear:
"Don't you find it strange... that there are an unlimited number of masks?"
An uncertain silence fell. Eyes turned to him, a mixture of curiosity and confusion. He continued, more confidently:
"That means... there really is a solution to the puzzle. And if someone finds it... if everyone finds it... then everyone could survive. "
The words seemed to float in the air, and many of those listening did not immediately understand what he meant. Faces remained frozen, some frowning, others scowling, too caught up in fear to grasp the significance of his words.
So the boy summed it up with disarming simplicity:
"Basically... everyone has a chance. You just have to find the right solution."
The crowd, still shaken by fear and incomprehension, moved closer to the boy, their faces tense and questioning. A voice rose above the cries:
"Yes, okay... but all this... what difference does it make?" "
The young boy looked into the eyes of his listeners, his quick mind searching for the right words. After a moment of silence, he replied calmly:
"It's not insignificant that the oxygen consumption of each mask is indicated."
A few murmurs circulated through the crowd, eyebrows furrowed. He continued, his voice clear and free of panic:
"It means there's a way to analyze and compare. If you look closely at the consumption, you can determine which mask is reliable and which tunnel can actually lead you to the safe zone. It's not just a matter of luck... it's a clue."
The commotion around him did not subside, but some began to lean over the masks, their eyes scanning the numbers, trying to understand. For the first time, the shadow of despair gave way to a ray of hope: the possibility that logic and observation could triumph over the unknown.