The scene shifts to Australia, where a man named Waru Denholm, a wealthy entrepreneur known for his flamboyant lifestyle, was relaxing on the golden sands of a secluded beach. The waves whispered gently, and the sky was painted in hues of orange and violet. With sunglasses on and a tropical drink in hand, Waru leaned back, basking in the illusion of peace.
But something felt… off.
The chatter of tourists, the laughter of children, the hustle of vendors—everything had vanished. Waru sat up, scanning the now-empty beach. His sunglasses slid down slightly as he muttered, "Huh… where did everyone go?"
A chill ran down his spine.
Before he could investigate, the scene abruptly cuts—
Now in Africa, in a remote town surrounded by endless savannah, a woman named Zelika Amare stood at the side of a dusty road. Her fierce eyes scanned the horizon. She had been expecting something—or someone.
Then, it arrived.
The familiar black car, silent yet ominous, rolled into view. Without hesitation, Zelika walked toward it, opened the door, and stepped inside without a word. She had known this moment would come.
The scene shifts again—this time to Mongolia, now under the harsh rule of Chinese occupation. Amidst the cold concrete remnants of a once-proud city, a broken man named Tengis Altanchuluun sat alone on a rusted bench. The weight of despair pressed heavily on his chest. Years of oppression, personal loss, and endless suffering had hollowed him out.
He stared at the knife in his trembling hands, contemplating ending the pain once and for all.
But fate intervened.
A sleek, unmarked black vehicle slowed to a halt before him. The door opened. No words. No threats. Just silence—and a message that he somehow understood: he was wanted.
With the last shred of strength, Tengis dropped the knife. He stood up and walked into the car, his fate sealed.
Each of the three—Waru, Zelika, and Tengis—were subjected to the same terrifying procedure as those who had been taken before them:
Blindfolded to strip them of sight.
Mouths taped shut to silence their screams or questions.
Sound-cancelling earphones forced over their heads, ensuring total sensory isolation.
A black metallic collar-like device was fastened around their necks—its purpose still unknown.
They were transported in the signature black cars, guarded by masked operatives who followed a strict, eerie silence.
These were not random victims.
Like the others before them—captured across the world—they were crucial pieces of a much larger game.
And that game... was only just beginning.