In the pitch-black darkness where one couldn't see their own hand, the cold metallic walls emanated a bone-chilling coldness, as if trying to freeze the very blood in their veins. This ancient magical chariot's interior space was much larger than it appeared from the outside, but at this moment it had become a prison for thirty Harvard University archaeology students.
"Damn it... what the hell is this place?" Chris Anderson's voice trembled in the darkness as he tried to use his phone's screen light to illuminate the surroundings, but the weak glow could barely reach a few feet. His phone showed zero signal, as if this place was completely cut off from the outside world.
"Everyone calm down," Emma Wilson's voice, though tinged with nervousness, still maintained its rationality. "Panic won't solve anything. We need to figure out our current situation first."
As the student council president of Harvard's archaeology department, Emma had always been the composed strong woman in her classmates' minds. Even in this bizarre situation, she still tried to maintain everyone's emotional stability.
"Emma's right," Tom Morrison's voice came from a corner, sounding unusually calm. "Since we're already trapped here, instead of wasting time panicking, we should try to understand the structure of this place."
Tom had been fascinated by various ancient myths and magical legends since childhood, having read through almost every book in the library about ancient civilizations and mysterious powers. Compared to others' panic, he seemed somewhat excited—this opportunity to truly encounter supernatural phenomena was once in a lifetime for him.
"Calm down? How can you tell us to calm down?" A girl's sobbing voice rang out. "We've been inexplicably dragged into this cursed place, our phones have no signal, and we don't even know what's happening outside!"
"Anna, take deep breaths," Ivan Petrov, the exchange student from Moscow, comforted in heavily accented English. "In Russia, we have a saying—fear is more terrible than death. Since we're still alive, there's still hope."
Ivan's words carried a special resilience, perhaps stemming from his experience growing up in Siberia's harsh environment. Compared to the others, he had stronger adaptability to desperate situations.
Rustling sounds came from the darkness as someone moved around, groping for an exit. Several phone lights swayed in the air like weak fireflies in the deep sea.
"These walls... feel like they're made of some kind of alloy," Jack Brown, a student specializing in architectural history, said while touching the wall surface. "The surface has complex patterns, like some kind of ancient inscriptions or magical symbols."
"Magical symbols?" Chris's voice became sharp. "Jack, this isn't the time for jokes!"
"I'm not joking," Jack said seriously. "These patterns really don't look like something modern craftsmanship could create. And... don't you feel it? There seems to be some kind of special energy permeating the air here."
As soon as he finished speaking, several sensitive students felt the strangeness Jack mentioned—there was indeed an indescribable fluctuation in the air, like an electromagnetic field, causing slight tingling sensations on their skin.
Everyone carefully examined their surroundings using their phones' weak light. This space was larger than they had imagined, with walls covered in complex ancient runes that emanated a mysterious and ancient aura.
"Alright, we first need to confirm that everyone is here," Tom suggested. "Let's take turns calling out numbers to ensure no one got lost in the earlier chaos."
This suggestion was unanimously agreed upon. In such a dark and unknown environment, confirming the team's completeness was the most basic survival need.
"I'll start," Emma spoke first. "Number one, Emma Wilson."
"Number two, Tom Morrison."
"Number three, Chris Anderson."
"Number four, Ivan Petrov."
...
Numbers rang out one by one in the darkness, each person's voice carrying either tension or composure. When they reached twenty-eight, everyone breathed a sigh of relief—it seemed everyone was safe and sound.
However, at that moment, an unfamiliar voice rang out from the other end of the darkness:
"Number twenty-nine."
The entire space instantly fell into deathly silence. Everyone's breathing stopped for a moment.
"Wait..." Emma's voice trembled slightly. "Our class only has twenty-eight people participating in this archaeological trip, including the guide... there should only be twenty-nine people total."
"Then... who was just speaking?" Chris's voice nearly became a scream.
Hurried rustling sounds came from the darkness as everyone fumbled for their phones, trying to use the weak light to find the extra person. However, when over a dozen phone lights lit up simultaneously, they saw only each other's familiar faces and the surrounding metal walls carved with mysterious runes.
"Maybe... maybe we miscounted?" Anna's voice carried a trace of uncertain hope.
"Impossible," Tom shook his head. "I'm certain someone just said 'number twenty-nine,' and that voice... I've never heard it before."
Fear surged like a tide. In this dark and mysterious space, who was the thirtieth person that had appeared among them?