CHAPTER 25 — The Death Game Begins
The hallway was silent, the group huddled together beneath the weight of Shun's words. Shadows clung to the walls, stretching long and thin, as if the building itself was holding its breath. Shun's story was far from finished.
In his memory, a heavy steel door slammed open. The sound echoed through him even now.
A guard entered, dragging behind him a boy so small and broken he could barely stand. Blood stained the child's uniform, his eyes wide with the terror of someone who had already seen too much. Shun recognized him instantly—the boy who had dared to raise a gun against their captors.
The guard knelt suddenly, clutching the boy in a rough embrace, his voice trembling with tears.
"This… this is your fault," the man whispered, almost broken. "Why would you do that? Why didn't you follow the rules? You know what happens to rule-breakers…"
But in the next breath, his kindness rotted into cruelty. His face twisted, his voice sharp enough to cut.
"If any of you break the rules again," he snarled at the watching children, "you'll be shot. No warnings. You'll die where you stand."
The boy whimpered in his arms. The room stank of fear.
Back in the present, Shun's voice carried the weight of that moment. His words were flat, emotionless—because feeling them would shatter him.
"They trained us every day," he said. "Not just physically. Mentally. Emotionally."
His hollow gaze swept over the group.
"There were classes—torture techniques, psychological manipulation, hand-to-hand combat. We learned how to find weaknesses in people. How to use fear as a weapon. How to survive any game."
Mei flinched, horror flickering across her face.
"That's… inhuman," she whispered.
Aoi leaned forward, tense.
"What happened next?"
Tatsuya's voice was calm, but edged with steel.
"How did it end?"
Ren crossed his arms, skepticism mixing with reluctant curiosity.
"How do you even remember all this? You were a kid. That's some next-level memory…"
Daichi let out a nervous laugh, trying to break the tension.
"Yeah, but tell us one thing—did you actually escape that hellhole or not?"
Shun's eyes lowered, his voice hard as stone.
"I did. But not without losing a lot."
The air thickened around them. His breaths came shallow, his pauses long, as though each word carried shards of glass.
"Eventually… I found a police station," he continued. "I told them everything. But they thought I was insane."
The group leaned in, listening, caught between disbelief and dread.
"When I told them my name, something changed," Shun said, his tone softening. "They asked questions. My parents' names. Where I was from. I answered. They called my parents. Said, 'We found your child. Come immediately.'"
Shun's voice trembled. "My mom came first. She hugged me. She cried. My father was next. And I think… that was the moment I realized I still had a little humanity left inside me."
The memory burned bright. His mother's footsteps rushing forward. Her voice, breathless, breaking.
"Shun…? SHUN!"
Her arms wrapped around him before he could breathe. She clung to him as though she feared he would disappear again. Tears streamed down her face, soaking his shoulder.
"My baby… you're alive… you're really alive…"
For a moment, Shun stiffened, unable to reconcile warmth with the cold world he had come from. But slowly—hesitantly—his arms lifted. He held her. Trembling. Fragile.
"…Mom," he whispered.
Then his father appeared. Stoic as always, but his eyes betrayed the storm within. He knelt beside them, resting a heavy, shaking hand on his son's shoulder.
"You're safe now," his father said thickly. "That's all that matters."
"You don't have to be strong anymore."
The words pierced deeper than any blade. Shun broke. Shoulders shaking, his voice cracked, his strength shattering into sobs he could no longer hold back.
"I tried to come back…" he whispered. "I really tried…"
His mother cupped his face, forcing him to meet her tearful gaze.
"We're here. We've got you. No more running. No more fear."
And so he wept. Not the tears of a child, but of someone who had survived too much, too soon.
Back in the dim hallway, Mei's eyes glistened. Ren's smirk had vanished. Even Daichi was silent.
Shun's voice came again, quiet and brittle.
"My parents believed I was just lost. They couldn't understand what I'd been through. No one believed a place like that existed. And I… I couldn't remember its exact location."
He paused, then added:
"But I wrote everything in a diary. Every detail. That's why I remember so clearly now."
Tatsuya's eyes narrowed.
"This is fine," he said. "But how? There's no way they just let you go."
Shun's expression darkened. His voice dropped into a shadow.
"Then listen carefully."
He leaned forward, his tone low and final.
"I'll tell you exactly how I escaped."
---
END OF CHAPTER 25 — The Death Game Begins
Some cages aren't made of steel.
They're made of silence, memories, and scars that never fade.
Shun may have escaped the building…
…but parts of him never left.
The story isn't over.
It's only just beginning.
NEXT: CHAPTER 26 — The Art of Breaking Chains
To escape hell, you don't just run—
You must outthink the devil who built it.
The games. The fake freedom. The price of betrayal.
And the question that haunts them all:
Did Shun truly escape alone… or was he allowed to?
Not every escape is real.
Some are designed.