The mist still hung thick, and the mansion was swallowed in a horrifying silence. Akira descended from the balcony, his footsteps echoing on the wooden floor, each sound sinking into the hearts of the guests like an hourglass ticking.
The elderly woman stepped forward, her voice trembling. "Akira… what is this game? What are we supposed to see… or lose?"
Akira smiled. "You think this is just a game… but this game will decide your life and death. I am only your guide… or perhaps the author of your tragedy."
The guests' eyes searched for signs in the half-darkness, but every corner and shadow of the mansion seemed alive and watching. Suddenly, a rustling sound came—from the old library door.
"Who's there?" the middle-aged steward asked, but no answer came.
Akira raised his hand and said, "If you dare, come to the library… but be prepared. What you see may not be truth… or it may be a truth you cannot bear."
The guests hesitated, fear gripping them, but they stepped into the library. The tall ceiling and rows of ancient bookshelves, the smell of old paper and dust, and the candlelight dancing across leather-bound covers created an eerie atmosphere.
"These books…" whispered a young girl who had just arrived. "Do they… contain all the family's secrets?"
Akira looked at her with deep, sinister eyes. "No… only what I allow you to see."
He placed his hand on a book, and it opened slowly, yet its pages were blank. The guests stared, dumbfounded.
"The pages… they're empty," the middle-aged man muttered.
"This is only the beginning," Akira said. "The pages will fill themselves when you make a choice… or when you deceive yourselves."
A short, unnatural laugh echoed from a corner of the room. The guests turned, and a shadow moved across the wall, as if an invisible being, with eyes only visible in the dark, was observing them.
Akira stepped forward and whispered, "The first riddle… who lies, and who hides the truth?"
Each guest looked at another. Doubt and suspicion hung thick in the air. Every word, every glance, could trap them in Akira's game.
The young girl suddenly murmured, "We… we don't know…"
Akira laughed. "And that… is exactly what I want. Fear, doubt, betrayal… these are the raw materials of the game. Every step you take, every hesitation, strengthens me."
Suddenly, one of the candles went out, and an eerie shadow appeared on the wall—a hand reaching toward the guests. Hearts raced, and breaths were caught in their throats.
Akira moved closer and said, "Soon, the first victim will appear… and you will all realize that death and truth are only distinctions I choose to define."
The guests shivered, understanding that this mansion, this night, and this game were far beyond ordinary fear. Everything was real and yet an illusion, crafted by a demonic presence.
And as the mist thickened and the candles flickered, Akira smiled, the darkness itself reflecting in his eyes:
"The game has begun… and each of you will be either my masterpiece in this tragedy… or its first victim."