The climb felt endless. Every step rattled the steel beneath their feet. Every breath tasted of rust and dread. The memory of Daichi's broken body—snuffed out in silence—still clung to the group like a curse.
"Keep moving," Arata said, calm as stone. His voice cut through their unease. "The tower won't wait."
Aya's hand trembled against his sleeve. Her lips quivered. "B-but… Daichi… h-he's…"
"Gone," Haruto spat from behind, his voice sharp and raw. "He's gone because someone decided he was expendable." His glare speared into Arata's back.
Riku's fists clenched, his teeth grinding. "Yeah. Someone chose to let him fall."
Arata didn't turn. His tone was flat, almost bored. "Waste more breath pointing fingers if you like. Just don't stop climbing. Or maybe you'd rather join him."
The silence that followed was louder than a scream.
The stairs spiraled into a wide platform. The walls here were mirrored, dozens of reflections distorting their faces—eyes too wide, smiles too sharp, bodies stretched thin. Written in dripping crimson across the glass was the next rule:
"Truth Revealed. Each player must confess one secret aloud.
Those who lie… will fall."
A cold hush swept over the survivors.
Aya's eyes darted wildly as if the reflections would eat her alive. She pressed a hand to her chest, voice cracking. "I… I used to hurt animals when I was small. I—stopped, I swear! But… sometimes… sometimes I still dream about it." Tears spilled as she collapsed against the mirror. The glass rippled, then stilled. She was spared.
"Disgusting," Riku muttered under his breath, though his hands trembled.
Haruto slammed his palm against the mirror, his eyes blazing. "Fine. My secret? I wished my brother dead when he stole the scholarship I worked for. I prayed for it. The next day he got hit by a car." His voice dripped with guilt. The mirror pulsed, then went still.
One after another, players stepped forward. Some confessed pathetic sins. Others hesitated, their lies cracking the glass. Screams tore the air as their bodies were dragged into their reflections, shredded in silence, blood streaking the mirrored floor.
Miyako Ren moved with lazy grace, her reflection grinning wider than her lips. She pressed her fingertips to the glass. "My secret? I enjoy watching people break. The more desperate, the better."
The mirror didn't punish her. Instead, her reflection winked. Ren smiled faintly, her eyes drifting to Arata. Your turn.
All gazes turned. Aya gripped his arm tightly, whispering, "D-don't… please, Arata-kun…"
Haruto's jaw clenched. "Let's hear it. Take the mask off."
Riku's voice was a growl. "Show us who you really are."
Arata stepped forward, his reflection already smiling like it knew the truth. He placed his hand on the glass.
"My secret is…" His voice was soft, steady. "…I don't see people as human. Not anymore. Just pieces. Pieces to move. Pieces to discard."
The mirror gleamed brilliantly, rewarding the purity of his cruelty.
The silence that followed was unbearable. Aya froze, horror battling with the devotion in her eyes. Haruto staggered back a step, bile rising in his throat. Riku looked like he'd been punched, trembling with rage and disbelief.
Ren? She smirked, her gaze burning with intrigue. "Finally. Honesty. I was getting bored of your timid act."
Arata turned slowly, meeting every stare with chilling calm. "If you're scared of me, good. Fear keeps you alive. Pretend otherwise, and you'll end up like Daichi."
Aya whimpered, clutching him tighter despite her trembling. Haruto whispered, "Monster…" Riku's fists shook, but he said nothing.
The survivors climbed again. Fewer voices. Fewer footsteps. And above them, the tower creaked—hungry for more secrets.