The room was silent, save for the scratching of pens as the teacher scribbled the words "Special Exam" across the blackboard. Students leaned forward, eager, nervous, or both.
Adrian's eyes stayed half-lidded, as if bored, but inside, his mind was alive with anticipation. This is it. A stage. A chance to play with people, to peel back their masks…
The teacher turned, her voice slicing through the silence.
"Each group of four will be given a challenge scenario. Your task is simple: survive. But survival will not be based on strength—it will be based on how well you can read each other, work together, and decide who to trust. Fail to cooperate, and you lose. Choose the wrong person to sacrifice, and you lose. Choose wisely, and your group advances."
A ripple of whispers. The word sacrifice stuck in everyone's minds.
The teacher placed sealed envelopes on each group's desk. Adrian's group got theirs, and a boy with nervous hands tore it open. He read aloud:
"Four travelers are stranded in a desert. Supplies are limited. Water enough for only three. Food for only two. To reach safety, you must decide who will receive what—and who, in the end, will be left behind."
The room thickened with tension. Immediately, the others in Adrian's group stiffened, their instincts screaming don't be the one left behind.
Adrian, however, only smirked. A test of selfishness and persuasion. Perfect.
His group consisted of:
Noah – a tall, loudmouth with more muscles than brains.
Clara – quiet, reserved, the type who observes before speaking.
Darius – sharp-eyed, the cautious type, already trying to calculate outcomes.
Adrian leaned back, deliberately silent, letting the others panic first. Silence, after all, is its own manipulation technique—people rush to fill it.
Predictably, Noah broke first.
"Well, obviously the strongest should get the water. That way we can carry the others."
Anchor placed, Adrian thought. Noah wanted to be seen as indispensable. That was leverage.
Darius narrowed his eyes. "And who decides who eats? If there's only food for two, then someone starves before the desert even kills them."
Clara remained silent, biting her lip. Adrian filed it away—her silence was defense, but also an opening. Quiet people, when nudged correctly, often revealed the most.
Adrian finally spoke, voice calm, measured. "You're both right. Strength matters. Strategy matters. But… doesn't trust matter more? If we can't trust each other, we'll collapse before we even start."
He used false consensus, nodding at Noah and Darius as if he agreed with both, pulling them into alignment with him. Neither realized he hadn't actually chosen a side.
Clara looked up at him for the first time. "…So what do you suggest?"
Adrian smiled. The hook had been set.
"Well, let's not rush. Instead of deciding who deserves water and food first, why don't we share something about ourselves? Who we are. Why we think we'd survive. That way, we can make a fair decision."
The group hesitated. But the suggestion sounded reasonable, fair. No one noticed how dangerous it was.
One by one, they began to talk.
Noah went first, puffing his chest. "I'm from the Eastside District. My family runs a gym. I can lift more than anyone in this academy. So yeah, I'm useful."
Adrian mirrored his body language slightly, leaning forward with his hands clasped, as if impressed. "Strong and reliable. Good to know." The validation made Noah beam. Trust gained.
Darius was next, reluctantly. "I grew up near the capital. I've… studied survival scenarios like this before. I know how rationing works." His voice carried calculation, a need to appear essential.
Adrian tilted his head. "Smart. Experienced. So we've got muscle and brains already." Mirror again, anchor again.
Clara's voice was softer. "I… don't have much. My family's just normal. But I'm observant. I notice details."
Adrian smiled warmly at her, softening his tone deliberately. "Sometimes the quiet ones see the things we all miss. That might be more valuable than strength or strategy."
Her eyes flickered, surprised. He'd planted an anchor of worth in her mind. She wouldn't forget it.
Finally, they all looked at him. Adrian spread his hands, modest, disarming. "Me? I'm nothing special. Just good at understanding people. I figure if we can keep trust strong, we'll find a way out."
The biggest lie of all.
The group nodded, subtly reassured. They didn't realize he had just maneuvered himself into the role of mediator, the one no one would want to sacrifice.
As the discussion went on, Adrian began controlled contradictions—small disagreements to test reactions.
"Noah, strength is useful, but what happens when you run out of water faster than the rest of us?" Noah flinched, defensive, proving his weakness was endurance.
"Darius, rationing works, but in a group of four with uneven resources, someone will always resent you. Do you trust yourself to handle that?" Darius frowned, hesitating—exposed.
And Clara… Adrian let her words linger, then gently corrected her observations, only to praise her again. She blushed faintly, already aligning with him.
By the halfway point, Adrian had built a perfect illusion: Noah trusted him, Clara leaned toward him, and even Darius—skeptical—saw him as reasonable.
Finally, when the teacher called for them to decide who would be "sacrificed," all three instinctively looked at each other, suspicion rising. And then, almost unconsciously, they looked at Adrian.
He smiled serenely. Not a single person considered sacrificing him.
Adrian leaned back, whispering to himself as the tension mounted.
"Smiles are masks. And masks… control the game."
The exam was only beginning, but Adrian had already won.