When the blinding light vanished, I saw a street that looked normal at first glance—
Shops.
Houses.
Street lamps.
Neat lines.
Clean pavements.
A sky that looked… manufactured.
Everything was too perfect.
No dust.
No stains.
No broken tiles.
Even the shadows fell at mathematically precise angles.
This wasn't a city.
It was a designed environment.
A simulation.
The way game maps look before players spawn.
People moved around me like broken marionettes. Some collapsed. Others screamed. A group of men tried to open a shop door with shaking hands.
I didn't move.
I just watched.
Not because I was calm—
because I had no idea what I was supposed to feel.
---
Then the voice began.
Not from speakers—
from everywhere at once.
"Welcome to the Mind Game World."
People screamed.
Begged.
Collapsed.
My body reacted—a tightness in my stomach, a pressure behind my ribs.
Fear?
Maybe.
The sensation was unpleasant, but I couldn't categorize it properly.
A beam shot down and killed a man instantly.
Then another killed a woman.
Their bodies dissolved into glowing particles.
Around me, chaos erupted.
Inside me, nothing cohered into a proper emotion.
Just more tightness.
And confusion about the tightness.
---
Games.
Punishments.
Rules.
Elimination.
Survival.
Everything about it sounded… familiar.
Not comforting—nothing here was comforting—but structured.
My brain liked structure.
Even lethal structure.
The voice explained the rules of the first game.
People panicked.
I just pressed a hand against my chest, feeling that odd pressure again.
Emotion?
Stress?
Or just my heart beating too fast?
I couldn't tell.
---
A holographic map exploded across the sky.
Buildings rotated.
Signs glowed.
A massive arrow pointed toward the stadium hall.
Everyone ran.
I followed—logically, not emotionally.
If you remain alone in a panicking herd, the herd eventually turns on you.
---
Somewhere between the chaos and the stadium gates, she appeared in my line of sight.
My brain registered her in fragments:
Black hair, shiny like polished obsidian
Skin smooth and softly pale
Eyes sharp, steady, calculating
Expression calm when everyone else fell apart
Posture straight, confident, almost… predatory
Not trembling
Not crying
Not panicking
Beautiful?
Yes. My eyes liked looking at her.
But "beauty" is an emotion-based word—
so my brain avoided it.
I just noted:
She stands out.
She is composed.
She is dangerous in a way that makes sense to me.
Something warm pricked under my ribs.
Uncomfortable.
New.
I didn't know that feeling.
But I kept watching her anyway.
---
The hall was enormous. A single room sat at the center. A table full of bracelets beside it.
The voice explained the game.
Truth card.
Lie card.
One question each.
Guess correctly or die.
Panic everywhere.
Inside me—
that tight feeling again.
I rubbed my thumb against my palm.
Habit.
Grounding technique.
It didn't help much.
I took a bracelet.
Number 61.
---
I wasn't expecting her to walk toward me.
People rushed past her—crying, shrieking, begging.
She moved through them like a blade.
Then she stopped in front of me.
"Hi," she said. "I'm Alice. What's your name?"
I froze for a second.
Not because the question was scary—
but because I didn't know why she was talking to me.
"Kyle," I said.
She observed me, eyes scanning with surgical precision.
"What's your order number?"
"Sixty-one."
She nodded, then tilted her head slightly.
"You're someone who understands fighting and logic. But you don't understand emotions well… am I right?"
I blinked.
The world dimmed for a second.
Nobody ever guessed that so fast.
"How did you know that?" I asked quietly.
"I notice things," she said simply.
I felt something—
that warm prick under my ribs again.
Embarrassment?
Surprise?
Flustered?
I didn't know.
She leaned closer, voice gentle but sharp underneath.
"I can help you survive."
My chest tightened again—stronger this time.
Was that… relief?
I couldn't tell.
But I didn't want her to walk away.
"…okay," I said.
She smiled—small, clever, calculated.
Something inside me twitched.
Pleasant?
Unpleasant?
Just… something.
---
Her bracelet glowed.
She entered the room.
Minutes later, she walked out—
calm.
Untouched.
Alive.
I felt something again.
Sharp.
Hot.
Concern?
No idea.
Just a sensation stabbing under my ribs.
She walked straight to me.
"Listen," she said, "ask something obvious. Something impossible to twist."
I nodded slowly.
Her logic made sense.
My brain liked her logic.
My body… reacted strangely to her voice.
"That's smart," I said quietly.
She gave a small, approving nod.
For some reason, my heartbeat changed speed.
Not fast, not slow, but… irregular.
I didn't like it.
I didn't hate it.
I just didn't know what it meant.
---
I entered the room.
Truth card.
Opponent asked, "What are you most scared of?"
I told the truth.
"Emotions."
His face twisted—he thought I was lying.
Then I used Alice's trick.
"Are you five years old?"
He panicked.
Lied.
I answered correctly.
He died.
I walked out.
My legs felt strange—heavy but not tired.
My breathing was uneven.
Possibly stress.
Alice watched me.
Her eyes looked… brighter.
Not emotionally—analytically.
"You did well," she said softly.
My chest tightened again.
"I only won because of you," I said honestly.
She looked up at the sky, analyzing, talking about danger, alliances, chaos.
All her words made sense.
Then she dropped the sentence that changed everything:
"Someone like you will get targeted quickly."
A cold rush exploded inside me.
Fear?
Maybe.
I couldn't name it.
But I didn't want to die.
And I didn't want to lose her.
I had no idea why on the second part.
"A—Alice?" I said, unsure why my voice shook.
"C-Can I… follow you?"
She turned slowly.
Her expression unreadable.
"You may," she said.
My shoulders loosened.
Breath came easier.
Then she added—
"But on one condition."
I straightened instinctively.
"You will obey every command I give you. No hesitation."
Something sparked inside me. Not fear.
Not resistance.
Just… acceptance.
"I agree," I said.
She turned and began walking.
I followed instantly.
Not because I understood why.
Not because of emotion—I couldn't identify emotion.
Just because…
She made sense in a world that didn't.
And for someone like me—
that was enough.