10 HOURS EARLIER
Aamon Vesper had been waiting for the arrival of his train. The station seemed lively this evening. People moved in every direction, a tide of bodies brushing past each other—teenagers chattering and laughing, travelers dragging luggage, couples hurrying side by side, a mother corralling her restless child.
The air was heavy mixed with the scents of damp concrete, dust and metal from the tracks blended with lingering aromas of coffee and pastries from nearby stalls.
His reflection in the glass nearby caught his eye - a neatly dressed man in a plain suit, tie tucked, hair combed back.
Aamon was deep in thought.
His eyes followed the tiled floor, tracing cracks that reminded him of the fractures inside himself. He had just gotten off work and exhausted.
He adjusted the worn bag that he wore across his shoulders. Around him, families chatted, lovers held hands, strangers complained about late trains.The train was late, yet they did not know that this delay would be the last ordinary problem they would ever face.
Impatience rippled through the station, people checked their watches, muttered under their breath and tapped their feet. But beneath the surface, something heavier lingered in the air, a quiet tension waiting to break.
Then it all happened.
Lights started to flicker and a faint wind blew across the station that sent a shiver up everyone's spine.
Then a massive translucent interface materialized out of thin air infront of Aamon and everyone else.
Aamon took a step back but the interface followed . It seemed to follow where he faced. Aamon scanned the surrounding and saw that everyone seemed to be reacting as if something was infront of them ,the same way he did , but he couldn't see theirs.
In the midst of confusion a voice spoke, loud and clear. It wasn't a human voice . It was cold and direct, echoing inside everyone's mind rather than their ears.
"Welcome Players, let the games begin" the system announced.
The crowd rippled with panic, voices rising into a frantic chorus that grew louder with every heartbeat.
Aamon leaned in, his eyes narrowing as he studied the words etched across his interface.
Welcome Player
Name : Aamon Vesper
Age : 22
Lvl: 1
His hands reaching to touch the interface that lay in his midst. More texts appeared.
[ Stats Allocated ]
Strength : 2
Endurance : 3
Agility : 3
Intelligence : 20
Luck : 0
SKILLS ACQUIRED
Paradox - A lie becomes truth when a certain number of people believe it.
Limitations
-The stronger or more absolute the lie, the more reality resists. Reality itself pushes back, warping or punishing the user.
-If even one person who believed starts to doubt, the effect begins to weaken or collapse rapidly.
-Only those who witness the event can enforce the lie. Believers far away don't count.
-Belief must be genuine. Forced or insincere belief doesn't count.
-The bigger the lie, the larger amount of people are required to believe it.
- Some lies have limits themselves like cooldowns or objectives to make it true.
Aamons eyes surveyed the station. People were in shock and disbelief. Others in denial saying that this must be some sort of prank.
The station wasn't what it was five minutes ago. The atmosphere had shifted and something bad was gonna happen.
Then a notification popped up in everyones interface.
Main Event
THE HUNT
All player are to participate
Hunter : Hunt and kill for exp
Prey : Survive for rewards
Duration: Untill dawn
The top player in this event will receive an S tier reward. Please note that the use of guns is not allowed. Players found using guns will receive the death penalty.
Another notification popped up in Aamon's Interface.
Role : Prey
Survive for rewards
Aamon carefully studied his Interface. He looked around and saw that "Prey" and "Hunter" were assigned to everyone. Unease spread like wildfire. Voices sharpened, movements grew restless, and every glance carried the edge of suspicion.
Aamon took a step back from the crowd, carefully analyzing the situation. He noticed something strange. The people that were assigned "Hunter" were acting out of character.
He noticed a mother that was labelled "Hunter" put down her young child that was assigned the role of Prey. The look in her eyes changed from gentle to something unpleasant.
He noticed a couple that were holding hands and staring at each other the entire time had stopped and were now staring at those labelled Prey. A homeless man that was lying in the corner stood up, eyes fixated into the crowd as if trying to choose a target.
A shallow swallow worked its way down Aamon's throat, a small, instinctive response to the dread he couldn't shake—the sense that he already knew what waited ahead. Chaos.
It all began with distant screams. The crowd panicked. Then those labelled "Hunters" snapped. They activated their skills as if it were second nature. Abilities ignited the station in chaos- blades slashing and shadows constricting throats.
They struck without hesitation, powers slicing through the helpless; prey crumpled like discarded dolls, their blood painting the floor in grotesque patterns.
Aamon stood there, traumatized. Everyone was running. He couldn't. He was in shock.
Blood was everywhere, bodies lay on the floor.
Hunters finishing off their Prey.
They had abilities and skills that was nothing Aamon had ever seen. He had no chance for survival.
Within seconds, the only Prey left in the station was Aamon Vesper. There were 10 hunters that dominated the station, all eyes locked with his. He stood there terrified, scared to death and yet he showed no emotion. How could he , he was too traumatize to even move or run. They were all about fifteen meters infront of him.
"Aren't u gonna run , Prey?"
One of the Hunters asked mockingly.
They all laughed, walking slowly toward him. All covered with blood just as the crimson stained walls and floors of the station. The flickering lights just added to the horror movie like scene.
Aamon smiled as if he was almost excited.
He took a step forward.
"Run?"