The darkness was warm.
That was the first thing Orphyn realized as consciousness returned. A thick, warm darkness wrapped around his body like a heavy blanket. He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids weighed too much. It felt like floating in a sea of black tar—no up or down, no beginning or end.
Then—
*Click.*
A dry sound, like a bone breaking.
The darkness suddenly tore open like a shredded curtain, and light flooded his vision like a cascade of sharp blades. His back hit hard ground, and his lungs filled with the scent of damp earth and ancient mildew.
"Ugh...?"
He tried to sit up, but his arms gave way immediately. His entire body trembled like a leaf in the wind. Before him stretched a rectangular, windowless room, its walls made of weathered black stone, dimly lit by scattered candles melting slowly in tarnished copper dishes.
And in the center of the room—
A corpse.
His breath caught. The body belonged to a tall, gaunt man, sprawled across a stone table, his brown clothes torn and a stained white shroud covering his lower half. But the most horrifying part was—
The face.
*It had no face.*
Where features should have been, there was only smooth, pale skin, as if someone had erased everything with a giant rubber.
"Welcome to the game."
A woman's voice behind him made him jerk upright. He turned sharply, his neck cracking. There, in the dark corner, sat a woman in a black cloak, her golden eyes gleaming in the shadows like molten gold.
"Lyx...?" he whispered.
The woman laughed, but the sound was dry and joyless. "Sorry, but Lyx isn't here right now." She lifted her hand, revealing a strange wristwatch made of small bones. "You have three minutes to understand your situation before they arrive."
"Who... who's coming?"
"The ones playing with you."
She glanced at the watch, then nodded toward the corpse. "That's the previous player. He failed to understand the rules."
Orphyn looked back at the body. Now he noticed something written across its chest in dark red ink. He approached slowly, each step painful, as if walking on broken glass.
The word read:
**"FORGET."**
"What... what does this mean?"
But when he turned, the woman was gone. In her place stood three figures in the center of the room, as if they had materialized from nowhere.
A hulking man with a face covered in strange tattoos.
A little girl holding a headless doll.
And a third person—
Orphyn's heart stopped.
The third person was *him*.
A perfect copy of himself, smiling a smile that didn't reach his glassy eyes.
"Your turn," the twin said in a voice identical to his own.
Then, one by one, the candles went out.