Reader is now sitting on the table with one light above, while the whole room is swallowed in darkness.
Reader cannot see the people who have gone to rest, or those who rest their back against the wall.
but let me tell you, Reader,
they're asleep.
Don't look so confused, or may I say,
read in confusion...
Just wait. Something is about to happen.
Lina: Merci, lecteur·rice.
Ron,Tommy: thank you, Reader.
Emma:Valeu, leitore.
They're saying thank you because they think you turned off the light to let them rest….....
Just any minute..... now
Ryan:....
Emma:..... RYAN!!!..... RYAN!!!....AHHHH...
Tommy: What was that..... AHHHHHH...
RON:Tommy, Emma.... What is going on.... AHHHHHH...
LINA: J'ai peur ! Qu'est-ce qui se passe, Lecteur ?!....
Emma, Ryan, Tommy, Ron, Lina… someone's missing...
.... Bingo..... Go find her.
Dalia: …What is that? …Oh, reader, help me… something's pulling me away… Don't let go of my hand… No—NOOO—REA—
How is that, reader? Do I need to introduce myself? No… I think you already know.
Come. Sit at the table.
Should I describe the room for you, make it visual?
First, I warned you—yet you kept going.
Second, don't forget: I put you here. This is my world. Reader, I don't know who you really are, but here you're just a character.
Third, it's never funny to play a game that the others don't know they're in—or don't even know the rules to.
I'm here to make you realize the rules.
Remember Mark? The one who watched that +18 video, missed his cue, and took a blow to the head? Because you said nothing, he left the tower.
Ahmed and Levi? Because you stayed silent, they both became... "wiil".a collateral damage.
And lastly… Luke. If you had just ask him what's his story, maybe—just maybe—he could still be alive.
Do you understand, reader? You're a character, not just someone reading a book.
Now… I owe you an explanation. Two, actually.
One I choose to tell you.
One you will ask me.
First: Who am I? No one reveals themselves from the beginning.
Second: Who is William, and why does Dalia believe you never listened to her story?
Not yet.
Instead, let me tell you about the power of illusion. Through a little story…
Once upon a time, in the most racist place on earth, there was a Black family walking in the blackest night. A car drifted off the road and hit a tree.
That night, four died—two fathers, two wives.
And two lived: Martin and Arthur.
A white child, and a Black child.
They sat together at the police station, side by side.
If you didn't get what I was saying: the white child's parents died in the accident when their car hit the tree. But between the car and the tree was the Black family, who were suddenly struck before the crash.
So both children waited together in the same room, beside each other.
Arthur's grandfather came for him—his name was Geoffrey Wilson, one of the richest men alive. He took responsibility for Martin as well. So he brought both Arthur and Martin to his mansion and gave them everything.
Still, they both grew up with a void inside them. A void that nothing could ever fill.
One day, while walking back from school, mysterious figures approached them. They spoke about a wishing fountain, one said to grant whatever you desired....
It was close to them, so why not.. right....
It didn't take long before they found it...
So they looked at the fountain, not knowing what to do.
Arthur tossed a coin in — nothing happened.
Martin rubbed the side — still nothing.
They tried everything they could think of, but nothing worked.
Tired, they sat with their backs against the fountain.
Martin wiped his forehead.
Martin: "Man, this weather's too hot."
Arthur: "If we hadn't listened to that scammer, we'd be at home swimming… and I'd be beating you."
Martin: "Of course you'd be beating me — it's a white sport."
Arthur: "Yeah, yeah… same thing you always say."
Martin: "I mean, we only play white people's sports."
Arthur: "What are you even talking about? What do you want us to do — steal something?"
Martin: "Nah… I'd lose at that too."
Arthur: "How's that supposed to be a black sport then?"
Martin: "We're still amateurs. But you guys? You're at the universe level. When we do something, it's one family, maybe ten. But when white people do it? They can wreck an entire economy. Ask France and England. Or look at the 2008 crisis… and that's just the top. I don't even wanna get into how you dominate the game."
Arthur: sighs "God… you're too smart for your own good."
Martin: "Alright, how about a holding-breath contest?"
Arthur: "Yeah, let's do it."
They leaned over the fountain.
Arthur: "Three… two… one—"
Arthur plunged his head under. Martin didn't. Instead, he shoved Arthur's head down and held it there.
Arthur panicked, struggling, arms flailing.
Martin finally let him up.
Arthur gasped for air.
Martin laughed. "Sucker."
Arthur coughed, water dripping down his face. "You almost killed me!"
Arthur shoved Martin's hand off him and
that's when he saw.....