Lin Feng sat on the edge of the alley, staring at his trembling hands. Ten seconds. Ten. Every reset felt like an eternity trapped in his own skin. He could feel it now—something else was watching, someone else who remembered.
A shadow shifted across the wall. His pulse spiked.
"Finally awake?"
Lin Feng whipped around. A girl leaned casually against the brick wall, hair brushing her shoulders like midnight silk, eyes sharp, knowing. She smiled—but it didn't reach the chill in her gaze.
"Who… are you?" he stammered.
She tilted her head. "I'm the one who remembers."
Lin Feng's mind raced. Remembers what? "You mean… like me?"
Her smile widened, but it didn't comfort. "Exactly like you. Except…" She paused, scanning the alley as if shadows themselves whispered secrets to her. "…I play by my own rules."
Lin Feng's stomach dropped. Every instinct screamed danger. "Rules? What rules?"
"You'll see," she said softly. "But first…" She reached into her coat and pulled out a small, black device, blinking red. "This is what controls the resets. You think it's a blessing, but it's a trap."
The alley seemed to darken. The hum returned—louder, deeper, vibrating inside his chest.
Lin Feng clenched his fists. "Then I guess… I'm in the game now."
The girl nodded once, like an unspoken agreement. "Welcome. Don't die… or the next reset might not come."
A distant siren wailed. Somewhere in the shadows, something moved. Not human. Not quite animal. Something watching.
Lin Feng's eyes narrowed. Game or no game… I'm not going down without a fight.
The girl's voice echoed in his mind as they both stepped into the night: "Remember, every second counts."
The hum surged. The device blinked faster. Time was ticking—again.