Darkness.
That was the first thing Aiden Cruz felt—an endless, weightless dark, cold as steel, thick as smoke.
Then came the light.
Hssskt.
A mechanical hiss echoed in his ears as something unlatched above him. A blinding light seared through his closed eyelids, and he gasped awake, choking on stale air.
Where… where am I?
He sat up, coughing hard, eyes adjusting. He was inside a transparent chamber, fogged with condensation. His body ached as if he'd been frozen in place. When the glass door slid open with a click, Aiden stumbled out, collapsing onto cold metallic tiles.
Around him were dozens—no, hundreds—of identical pods. Some were opening. Others already had.
People were waking up. Men, women. Young. Scared. Confused.
Aiden blinked as he pushed himself up. His name flashed on a hologram above his wrist: [AIDEN CRUZ | STATUS: ACTIVE | PLAYER #013]
Player?
He looked around. Near him, a girl with pale blonde hair was silently scanning the room. A tall man with dark skin was helping another up. No one spoke—yet he heard whispers in different languages, some of which he didn't understand.
But then—
"Testing Translation Protocol…"
"Language Synchronization Complete."
"Welcome, Players. You may now understand one another."
The voice was emotionless. Robotic. And in the next moment, the whispers became clearer.
A man shouted in French, but Aiden understood it in perfect Tagalog. A Chinese girl murmured in Mandarin, but it reached him in English.
The wrist device… it's translating them?
Then the voice returned, this time loud and booming, echoing through the chamber:
"Welcome to the Reckoning. You have been selected for a global survival challenge. Your actions will determine your fate. Only one of you will leave alive."
Aiden's breath caught.
Screams. Panic.
"You have ten minutes to gather supplies from your pod. After that, the zone will activate. Elimination is permanent. Trust is optional. Victory is singular."
The players scattered. Pods slid open to reveal gear: knives, flares, water bottles, food rations, strange-looking cards.
Aiden grabbed what he could. His heart thundered.
From the corner of his eye, he saw a boy—maybe sixteen—try to run toward the exit. Before he could reach the door, a red laser marked his chest.
ZAP!
The boy dropped. Motionless.
Silence fell.
"Early Exit Attempt Detected. Player #077 – Eliminated."
Aiden froze. He wanted to scream. Vomit. Escape. But all he could do was breathe—slow and quiet.
Then he heard footsteps behind him. Calm. Controlled.
A girl's voice:
"You'd better not panic. That's how they pick off the weak first."
He turned.
A blonde woman—cold eyes, strong build. She held a dagger loosely, like it was part of her hand.
"I'm Rena," she said. "Player #021. Don't die in the first hour."
She walked off without looking back.
Aiden stood still as the countdown on his wrist began ticking.
00:09:52…
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