6:57.
6:56.
6:55.
The red glow of the timer pressed on their nerves like a tightening vice.
"Fifty doors?!" one man barked, panic breaking his voice. "That's insane!"
"Shut up," another snapped, eyes darting sharply across the corridor. "There has to be a pattern. They wouldn't make it random."
The group fractured instantly — some sprinted forward, rattling door handles, others froze in panic, while a few crouched low, scanning the ground for clues.
Joon-ho's gaze darted along the corridor. Every door looked the same — steel, numbered with faint engravings. His breath caught as he noticed something faint: on the ground before one of the doors, the tiles were slightly cracked, almost like someone had forced it before.
"Wait." He stepped forward, but before he could voice his thought, a reckless teenager bolted.
"I'll try one!"
"Don't—!" someone shouted.
The boy yanked open a random door, chest heaving. For one terrifying moment, it was just a shadowy void. Then —
A metallic shriek.
A surge of black spikes shot out, piercing him through the chest.
His scream was cut short as his body dissolved into shimmering fragments, vanishing from existence.
11 Players Remaining.
The counter burned above their heads.
Silence crashed over the group.
Joon-ho's heart pounded like a war drum. His hands trembled, but his mind raced. It's real. This isn't a VR simulation anymore. It's life or death.
A tall man with a scarred jaw slammed his fist against the wall. "Listen up! We work together or we all die here. Look for clues!"
Another voice scoffed — a woman with sharp eyes, her tone cold. "And what if the clue leads to only one survivor? You gonna volunteer to die?"
The group erupted in arguments, tension boiling over as the timer ticked mercilessly.
6:12.
6:11.
6:10.
Joon-ho forced himself to breathe. He remembered streaming battle royales, those moments where panic made people blind. He narrowed his eyes at the faint cracks again.
No… it can't be luck. It has to be logic. There's always a tell.
He stepped closer, running his hand across the floor. Then he noticed something else — subtle markings above the doors. Tiny shapes, almost invisible unless you stood directly under them.
His lips parted. "Symbols…"
The scarred man snapped his head toward him. "What did you say?"
"There are tiny symbols above the doors," Joon-ho said louder this time, pointing. "Look closely. They're faint. This one here—it's a triangle. That one's a square."
The players rushed to check. Murmurs spread as they confirmed it.
"So… what does it mean?"
"I don't know yet," Joon-ho admitted, chest tight. "But if we figure out the pattern—"
"Four minutes left!" the Announcer's voice rang out, cruel and unbothered.
The timer blazed.
4:00.
3:59.
3:58…
Everyone's nerves exploded. Some argued louder, others tested the doors carefully, afraid to open. The woman with sharp eyes smirked and stepped toward a square-marked door.
"Better to take the risk than wait like idiots."
Her hand closed on the handle.
Joon-ho clenched his fists. If she's wrong… we'll lose another one.
3:57.
3:56.
The sharp-eyed woman pulled the handle.
Click.
The door opened silently, revealing a corridor of light instead of darkness. She froze, waiting for a trap — but nothing happened. Slowly, she smirked and stepped inside.
The glowing corridor didn't vanish.
"It's safe…" someone whispered, relief flooding their voice.
"No, wait!" Joon-ho's gut twisted. His eyes darted up. Above the woman's door — the faint square mark. To her left, triangle. To her right, circle.
He scanned further down the line of doors. They repeated in sets of three — triangle, square, circle, over and over again.
It's a sequence. But what does it mean?
The scarred man barked, "Stop hesitating! She found one that works! Everyone, go for the squares!"
Panic surged as half the group rushed toward square-marked doors.
2:59.
One man wrenched open a square door three down from the woman's. A second of silence… then a vertical blade dropped, slicing him in half. His body pixelated instantly.
10 Players Remaining.
Screams echoed. People backed away from the doors, shaking.
"It's not just the symbol…" Joon-ho whispered, sweat dripping down his temple.
The scarred man spun toward him. "What did you say, kid?!"
Joon-ho forced himself to think, replaying it in his head. Her square door was safe. His square door killed him. So what's the difference?
He looked back — the corridor had fifty doors. If the sequence repeated every three… triangle, square, circle… then it meant…
He squinted harder. Above the safe square door was a faint glowing dot, almost invisible.
"There!" Joon-ho shouted. "Look closely — some doors have faint dots above the symbol. Those are the real ones!"
The group scrambled closer, eyes widening as they spotted it too. The square that killed the man had no dot. The woman's safe door had one.
"That's it," the sharp-eyed woman smirked from inside the corridor. "He's right."
2:10.
Everyone scattered, searching desperately for marked doors. The scarred man shoved two others aside and yanked one open with a dot above the circle symbol. Safe corridor. He rushed inside.
Joon-ho's chest heaved. His eyes darted left and right. Finally, he found a triangle with a glowing dot.
He swallowed hard. This is it.
He pulled the handle. The corridor of light appeared, bathing him in warmth instead of spikes. He let out a shaky breath.
Behind him, chaos unfolded — one woman grabbed a door without checking and screamed as iron chains ripped her inside. Her voice cut out instantly.
9 Players Remaining.
Someone else stumbled into the wrong one — poisoned gas engulfed him before his body dissolved.
8 Players Remaining.
1:02.
"Move! Move!" shouts filled the hall as the last few survivors rushed to find the glowing-dot doors. Joon-ho sprinted deeper into the corridor, heart racing, until the floor beneath his feet shifted.
The glowing halls all converged at a single massive chamber.
As the final seconds ticked down, the last survivor dove through a correct door just as the countdown hit zero.
The unused doors all slammed shut with a deafening bang.
A screen appeared mid-air.
Game Clear. Survivors: 8/12.
Rewards: +500 EXP | +200 Units | +1 Trophy
Joon-ho exhaled shakily. Around him, seven strangers looked equally rattled, sweat dripping down their foreheads.
The Announcer's voice rang out, unnervingly cheerful.
"Congratulations, players! You've cleared your first puzzle game. Those eliminated… better luck next time."
Joon-ho clenched his fists, his mind heavy with the images of the players who hadn't made it.
This is real. This is survival.