The clock ticked ominously, ten minutes remaining in the void-like Purple Room. Makoto Katsuragi opened the first charades card, his eyes scanning the word as Zeyrix, standing with a sadistic grin, taunted him.
"How are you going to escape this one, Makoto?" Zeyrix teased, his voice dripping with mockery.
Makoto smirked, leaning casually against the table. "Let's just say I have a cheat code for this game."
Zeyrix raised a curious eyebrow. "A cheat code?"
"Yeah," Makoto said, nodding toward Yana. "She can read minds."
Yana's expression hardened as Makoto turned the card toward her. Concentrating, she read his thoughts and said confidently, "It's a ladder."
A small chime echoed in the room. Correct.
Cheers erupted from their allies—Takumi Enatsu, Haruko, Miwafe, and Rin—despite their weak, drained states. Across the globe, millions of viewers were glued to their screens, watching Makoto and Yana fight for survival against the maniacal Zeyrix.
Makoto grabbed the next card. Once again, Yana read his mind. "Swimming pool," she said.
Correct again.
With each correct guess, the group's morale improved, even as Zeyrix's amusement visibly dwindled. Watching Yana endure the Purple Room's energy-draining effects, Zeyrix's smile widened, revealing his psychotic delight.
"Marvelous," he said, clapping slowly. "You've impressed me and entertained the world. But honestly, I'm getting bored."
His eyes gleamed with malice. "How about I make this more exciting?" He snapped his fingers.
The purple light in the void intensified, its glow suffocating. The energy drain multiplied twentyfold.
Yana staggered, sweat dripping down her face as her energy ebbed. Even Makoto's other allies—Takumi Enatsu, Haruko, Miwafe, and Rin—collapsed under the weight of the intensified force. Despite this, Yana managed to guess the fifth card correctly.
Zeyrix laughed maniacally. "And now," he said, gesturing dramatically, "let's see how you handle the final card."
Makoto turned to Yana. "One more," he said softly. "We can do this."
Yana shook her head weakly, collapsing to her knees. "I can't... I don't have anything left," she whispered.
Makoto glanced at the last card, his eyes lighting up with sudden determination. "Fine," he said. "I'll handle this."
Rising to his feet, Makoto began to act out the charade. He mimicked the exaggerated motions of a confident, flirtatious woman, flipping his imaginary hair and strutting across the floor.
Confusion rippled through the audience. Parents shielded their children's eyes while commentators debated his bizarre behavior.
Yana's cheeks flushed, realization dawning on her. She whispered, "I... I can't say."
A chime sounded. Correct.
Makoto revealed the card: I can't say. Cheers erupted in the room and across the world.
But Zeyrix was far from pleased. His grin twisted into a scowl before quickly returning to an eerie calm. "Impressive," he muttered, his voice low and menacing. "But the fun is far from over. Let's move on to the third phase."
As the group staggered forward, struggling to walk, Makoto approached Takumi Enatsu, his tone grim.
"We're not getting out of here," Makoto whispered.
Takumi Enatsu frowned. "What do you mean?"
Makoto glanced at Zeyrix, who was still smiling smugly. "This isn't about winning or losing. He never told us how many games we'd have to play. He's just toying with us, waiting for your Seirei to wear out so he can kill you."
Takumi Enatsu's eyes widened. "If that's true, why didn't he just increase the Purple Room's effect earlier?"
"Because he enjoys the game," Makoto replied. "He wanted us to feel hope before crushing it. But I think I've figured something out. That clock up there—it's not counting down to a bomb. It's a timer for how long the Purple Room can exist. Once it hits zero, the room will fade."
Takumi Enatsu looked skeptical. "Are you sure?"
Makoto shook his head. "No. But it's our best shot because no one can hold their Seirei for too long, as he said. But he still manages to stay in the Purple Room. If we can disrupt the clock, it might shut the room down and get us out of here."
Takumi Enatsu nodded slowly, understanding the gamble. "So, what's the plan?"
"You'll use your Seirei's last bit of energy to short-circuit the clock. I'll distract Zeyrix in the meantime."
Takumi Enatsu hesitated. "If this doesn't work..."
"It's the only way," Makoto said firmly. "And besides, the Purple Room doesn't affect me, so it's up to him to help the rest."
Zeyrix snapped his fingers again, conjuring a new challenge. "This next round will test your endurance," he declared.
A long path lined with spinning blades appeared, glowing red-hot. "One of you must walk back and forth across this 15-meter path. Simple, right?"
Makoto stepped forward immediately. "I'll do it."
Takumi Enatsu grabbed his arm. "Are you crazy? You'll die!"
"If anyone else goes, they'll definitely die," Makoto replied. He turned to Zeyrix. "Let's do this."
Zeyrix's grin widened. "Perfect. Let's see how far you can go."
Makoto stepped onto the path, the heat searing his skin as the blades nicked and cut him. Blood dripped onto the floor, and the audience watched in horror. Children clutched their parents, and commentators went silent.
Despite the agony, Makoto kept moving forward. Each step felt heavier, each blade sharper. He fell to his knees halfway through but forced himself to stand, gritting his teeth.
Takumi Enatsu, watching helplessly, summoned the last of his energy. His Seirei ability, Electric Whip, lashed out, connecting to the clock. Sparks flew as the electricity surged.
Zeyrix's eyes widened in shock. "What are you doing?!" he shouted.
The clock flickered. The Purple Room shuddered, its oppressive light dimming.
Makoto, barely standing, took another step forward just as the room dissolved around them. Suddenly, they were back in the real world.
As their Seirei returned, the group regained their strength. The audience erupted in cheers, celebrating their survival.
Zeyrix, realizing he'd lost, tried to flee. But Haruko was faster, throwing razor-sharp cards that pinned Zeyrix to the wall.
The group surrounded him, their faces grim.
"This isn't over," Zeyrix hissed, his psychopathic grin faltering.
Makoto stepped forward, bloodied but defiant. "Oh, it's over. Game over." Makoto smiles widely.
For the first time, Zeyrix looked afraid as the world watched his defeat, or so they thought.