Thea and Igor stood before the pedestal in the center of the dome, shoulders squared, eyes locked. The two buttons glowed faintly under the dome's artificial twilight — one red, one green.
Above them, the floating message pulsed again.
"Only One May Exit."
They'd faced monsters. Hallucinations. The trauma-mocking mannequins. They'd solved puzzles, battled shadow doubles, and even survived a very opinionated sentient vending machine.
But this?
This was the real test.
Thea's lips parted. "What do you think happens if neither of us pushes?"
Igor rubbed the back of his neck. "Could be another trick. Could also mean they keep us here indefinitely, feeding us therapy-themed cereal bars until we cave."
Thea gave him a look. "Not the worst breakfast."
He cracked a grin. "You're stalling."
"Of course I'm stalling. This reeks of a setup. It's too neat."
They circled the pedestal. No other door. No vent. No crack in the seamless dome. Just… choice.
Red. Green.
Pick one.
The dome's speakers crackled to life.
"Participant compliance required. Exit protocol engaged."
Then: a timer appeared above the buttons. 5:00. Counting down.
Panic didn't rise. Not anymore. They'd burned through panic back in Level Three.
Igor leaned toward her, voice low. "We choose nothing, they keep us. We choose one, the other's gone. Or maybe—this is the test. The whole thing. They're waiting to see who folds."
Thea's eyes narrowed. "Or maybe… they just want to break us apart."
Silence passed like static.
The timer read: 4:16.
Igor walked up to the red button. Hovered a finger over it. "What if pushing either one ends this?"
Thea joined him. "Or resets everything. Or opens a trapdoor and drops us in a ball pit full of robot spiders."
He considered. "Wouldn't be our worst day."
She stared at the pedestal. "Look at the labels."
He blinked. "What labels?"
She pointed. "They just appeared."
Now etched under the buttons were tiny inscriptions:
Green — Comply.Red — Disrupt.
They both paused.
Then stared at each other.
"Okay," Igor said slowly. "That's new."
"Green to obey, red to rebel," Thea murmured. "That's… oddly blunt for these people."
The timer ticked down: 3:27.
Thea's brain spun. "Every level has had a theme. This one? Choice. Control. Moral logic. They're seeing what we choose when given a no-win option."
Igor stepped back. "So what if we break the system?"
She turned. "How?"
He raised an eyebrow.
Then kicked the pedestal.
Hard.
It barely wobbled.
Thea rolled her eyes. "Okay, now you're stalling."
"Just testing durability."
Thea walked around to the far side — ran her hands under the base, around the edge. Nothing. Seamless.
"Wait," she said. "What if both buttons lead to the same place?"
Igor perked up. "That'd be peak psychological cruelty. Let you choose, then do what they want anyway."
"Exactly."
2:42.
They stood again before the buttons.
"Whatever happens," she said, "we don't turn on each other."
Igor nodded. "We're Quinnell-Zelinsky certified. Unbreakable."
She smiled, faintly.
Then he looked down at the buttons.
And said, "Let's press them at the same time."
Her eyes widened. "What?"
He shrugged. "We've beaten every level by not playing their game. Why stop now?"
She considered.
Then nodded once.
"Alright. On three."
They positioned their hands — hers over the red, his over the green.
"Three…"
"Two…"
"One."
Click.
Both buttons sank at once.
The timer stopped at 2:00.
The lights blinked once.
Twice.
Then everything froze.
The dome's humming halted. The projections vanished. Even the soft ambient breeze — artificial as it was — ceased.
The world stilled.
Then a deep, low vibration started beneath their feet.
The dome ceiling peeled open.
Above them: stars. Real ones.
A massive drone descended, silent and sleek, its lights scanning them.
A voice boomed, calm and cold:
"Unauthorized input. Dual-choice override detected. Proceeding with protocol shift."
The floor beneath the pedestal split.
It dropped away into a yawning black shaft.
A new platform rose in its place — this one carrying a narrow bridge.
On the other side of that bridge?
A door. Ordinary. Wooden.
But with daylight bleeding through its edges.
Igor whispered, "Did we… beat it?"
Thea didn't move. "Or we broke it."
A flicker of motion made them turn.
Cameras.
All around the dome. Every angle.
Some of them moved. Tracking.
The voice returned.
"You weren't supposed to choose together. You weren't supposed to remember this much. You weren't supposed to trust each other."
Thea raised her voice. "Then you clearly picked the wrong guinea pigs."
A long silence.
Then — laughter.
Human.
Soft. Uneasy.
It echoed from the walls.
"Final stage unlocked. You may proceed."
Thea stepped toward the bridge. Igor followed.
As they walked, she muttered, "They're not done. Not even close."
Igor nodded grimly. "But we're not either."
They reached the door.
No lock.
No code.
Just a simple brass knob.
Thea looked at him.
He shrugged. "Ladies first."
She rolled her eyes and pushed the door open.
Sunlight.
A dirt path winding through woods — familiar woods.
At the edge of the horizon: their town.
The real world.
Or… it looked like it.
She turned to him.
"Do we believe it?"
He looked back at the dome behind them. "Not for a second."
They stepped through anyway.
And the door slammed shut behind them.
The world twisted —
— and faded to black.