The scene shifted again—this time, to the isolated room of Vayunesh.
A faint groan echoed from the other side of the thick concrete wall, followed by a tremulous voice from the square hole.
"W-What is… what is going on?"
The voice trembled with confusion and fear, the kind that could only come from waking up in an unknown place with no memory of how you got there.
Vayunesh exhaled deeply, not in fear—but in measured curiosity. His sharp eyes scanned his half of the room. The cold gray walls offered little comfort. The air felt sterile and heavy, and the blinking red light on the cameras reminded him they were never alone.
He leaned slightly toward the square hole and responded with calm composure.
"It looks like we're separated by a wall… probably soundproof aside from this tiny opening. Each of us has the same setup—a bed, a desk, a chair, and even a painting. Symmetry suggests this room is split into two identical parts. We're clearly being observed."
There was a pause. The other voice spoke again—more frantic this time.
"B-But why are we here? What does the administration want with us?"
Vayunesh's tone remained steady, almost cold.
"This is likely… the beginning of the first game."
As if on cue, the painting on the wall flickered—pixels rearranging themselves in silence. What once appeared to be a static portrait now revealed its true nature: a digital screen.
A smooth, composed voice echoed through the chamber, calm but emotionless.
"Welcome, players… to the first game of The Game of the Masterminds."
In dozens of identical rooms, players froze. Every painting in every chamber became a display, revealing the insignia of the Game—a glowing emblem shifting between geometric patterns and digital glyphs.
Meanwhile, in another chamber...
Ryota rubbed his eyes as he sat up, still slightly groggy from the gas. He stared at the blinking cameras in his corners, then toward the faint sound of a breathing voice from the square hole.
Before he could speak, the announcement from the painting reached him too.
"The first game is titled… Speechlock."
Ryota scoffed lightly, smirking.
"Oh? The Game of the Masterminds, huh? That's what we're calling this?"
A second voice spoke from the other side of his wall—clear, young, but cautious.
"And 'Speechlock' is the name of the game? What does that even mean?"
Ryota stood up slowly, stretching his back, eyes narrowing as he paced.
"Whatever it is, it's psychological. They're making us talk first—forcing interactions between strangers without faces. I bet every word we say matters now."
He looked up at the painting, now glowing faint blue.
And then, across every room, a message scrolled silently across the digital screens:
"RULES OF SPEECHLOCK WILL BE REVEALED IN 5 MINUTES. UNTIL THEN, YOU MAY SPEAK FREELY TO YOUR PARTNER.""REMEMBER: YOUR VOICE MAY BE YOUR SALVATION—OR YOUR DOOM."
Ryota smirked again.
"Oh, this'll be fun."