The floor vibrated beneath Kai's feet—not a violent tremor, but a deep, subsonic hum that seeped through the thin soles of his unfamiliar shoes and resonated in his bones. It wasn't truly a floor, more an expanse of polished obsidian that reflected a pulsing crimson light from an unseen source overhead. The air was heavy, thick with the cloying scent of ozone, stale dust, and a faint, metallic tang like dried blood.
*Where am I?*
The question echoed in the hollow space where his memories should have been. No walls, no ceiling defined the space, only this endless void of crimson-tinged darkness and the mirror-like surface stretching into a perceived infinity. He wore strange clothes: a simple, dark grey jumpsuit, devoid of markings, practical yet anonymous. He didn't remember putting it on, just as he didn't remember arriving in this disorienting place.
His mind was a frustrating blank. Not entirely empty; fragments flickered like sun-bleached photographs: a woman's smiling face with sorrowful eyes, a phantom ache blooming in his chest, the distant echo of a child's laughter. But they were disconnected shards, devoid of context. His name, Kai, felt like the only solid thing, a small anchor in a sea of uncertainty.
"Welcome, newcomer."
The voice seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. It was deep, resonant, laced with a cold, metallic amusement, like coins spilling onto marble. Not quite human.
Kai spun around, his heart hammering against his ribs. He was alone. Only the crimson void and the reflective surface showing his own blurred, anxious face.
"Who's there?" His voice was a rough, unfamiliar croak. "Where am I?"
"You are in the Auction Hall," the resonant voice replied. "A place outside of time, where the most valuable commodities are traded… fragments of the soul."
*Auction Hall? Soul fragments?* The words sounded preposterous, ripped from the pages of a cheap fantasy novel. Yet, the chill crawling up his spine, the palpable sense of dread tightening its grip on his chest – those felt terrifyingly real.
"I don't understand," Kai managed, struggling to keep his voice steady. "How did I get here?"
"No one remembers their arrival," the voice stated, a hint of something like weariness in its metallic tone. "The memory of your entrance is the first price paid. Willingly surrendered, perhaps. Or perhaps… taken. The specifics are irrelevant now."
Before Kai could process this, the crimson light intensified. The low hum ratcheted up, becoming an almost painful thrumming against his eardrums. Other figures began to coalesce in the vast space, emerging from the shadows like hesitant ghosts. They wore the same grey jumpsuits, their faces masks of confusion and fear mirroring his own.
Dozens, maybe hundreds, stood in unnerving silence, their eyes scanning the oppressive darkness. Then, rising smoothly from the obsidian floor before them, a circular platform materialized, glowing with a cold, white light. Upon it stood a tall, slender figure, draped in a hooded black robe that concealed their face entirely in shadow.
"The first auction is about to commence," announced the resonant voice, now clearly emanating from the robed figure on the platform. "The rules are simple. Each of you begins with 100 Soul Units. This is your currency. You may bid it, earn it, or lose it. Tonight's offering… is an opportunity."
The figure raised a slender, gloved hand. Nestled in its palm, a small, shimmering orb of silver light pulsed gently. "The chance to reclaim a sliver of your lost past. One single, lucid memory. Who will open the bidding?"
A heavy silence fell, broken only by the ragged breathing of the newcomers. 100 Soul Units. One memory. It seemed an absurd transaction, yet the desperation in some eyes was palpable. The need to *know* something, *anything*, was a powerful, gnawing force.
"Five units!" The shout came from a grim-faced man to Kai's left.
"Ten!" countered a woman with wild, unkempt hair almost immediately.
"Fifteen!"
"Twenty!"
The bidding escalated quickly, fueled by fear and disorientation. Kai watched, a knot tightening in his stomach. Bidding with pieces of their souls? For a memory? The entire concept felt sick, perverse.
"Fifty!" cried a young man, his face pale, eyes wide with panic.
The crowd hesitated. Fifty units – half their starting total – for a single memory. It seemed excessive, reckless.
"Fifty, going once…" the Auctioneer's voice drawled.
"Fifty, going twice…"
"Fifty-one!" The voice was calm, clear, cutting through the tension. It came from somewhere behind Kai. He turned, scanning the anxious faces, and found her. A young woman, standing quietly amidst the fearful throng. She wore the same grey jumpsuit, but carried herself with an air of quiet confidence that seemed utterly out of place. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her dark eyes, catching the crimson light, were sharp, intelligent, assessing.
There was something unnervingly familiar about the way she stood, the slight tilt of her head.
The robed Auctioneer seemed to regard her for a moment before continuing. "Fifty-one. Any further bids?"
The young man who had bid fifty looked crushed. He slowly shook his head.
"Fifty-one, going once… twice… Sold! To the young lady at the back. One lucid memory, for fifty-one Soul Units." The silver orb detached itself from the Auctioneer's palm, floated through the air, and hovered before the young woman before sinking gently into her chest.
She closed her eyes for a fraction of a second, a faint tremor running through her. When she opened them again, her expression was subtly altered – a flicker of sorrow, a shadow of understanding. But she said nothing, merely took a step back, melting into the relative anonymity of the crowd.
"And now," the Auctioneer continued, its voice regaining its resonant power, "the second lot. This time, the offering is… Sensation. Not your own, but the vicarious experience of another participant's emotions in this hall. Your choice. Their joy, their pain, their fear… felt as if it were your own. Who will open the bidding for this intimate connection?"
Revulsion churned in Kai's gut. Feeling someone else's emotions? Why would anyone want that? It felt like a violation, a grotesque form of emotional voyeurism.
But the bidding began again, slower this time, more hesitant. The value of this particular commodity seemed less certain, more dangerous.
"Five units."
"Seven."
"Ten."
Kai watched the bids climb, feeling increasingly alienated. He hadn't bid, hadn't participated. He still had his 100 units, presumably. But the air itself felt corrosive, as if merely existing here chipped away at something vital within him. He noticed the dark-haired woman wasn't bidding either. She stood apart, observing, her expression unreadable.
He needed to understand this place. He needed to find a way out. But the Auctioneer's words echoed: *the memory of your entrance is the first price paid*. He couldn't even remember how he'd lost that first piece of himself.
He glanced back towards the woman who had bought the memory. She met his gaze across the shifting crowd, her dark eyes holding an unnerving depth. Did she know something? Did her reclaimed memory offer a clue? Or was she just another lost soul playing a game she didn't understand?
The bidding for the sensation reached twenty-three units and stalled. A gaunt man with haunted eyes won, the small orb of murky grey light sinking into his temple. He immediately gasped, his eyes rolling back slightly as he seemed to latch onto the raw panic radiating from the young man who had lost the bid for the memory earlier.
Kai looked away, disgusted.
"The third lot," the Auctioneer announced, interrupting Kai's troubled thoughts. "A simple, yet potentially life-saving ability: Pain Transfer. The power to momentarily shunt your physical pain onto another participant of your choosing. A brief respite, a tactical advantage. Bidding starts at ten units."
Pain Transfer. The implications were immediate and brutal. A way to endure injury, a way to disable an opponent. The bidding was fiercer this time, more aggressive. Kai felt a cold dread creep into him. This wasn't just about reclaiming the past or morbid curiosity; it was about survival, about gaining power over others in this soulless marketplace.
He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to bid. Not for the power itself, but just to *do* something, to assert his presence, to prove he wasn't just a passive victim. He clenched his fists, the number 'fifteen' forming on his lips.
Before he could speak, a hand lightly touched his arm. He flinched, turning to find the dark-haired woman beside him, her proximity startling.
"Don't," she murmured, her voice low and urgent, meant for his ears alone. Her eyes weren't looking at him, but scanning the crowd, particularly a burly man with a prominent scar across his face who was bidding aggressively.
"Why not?" Kai whispered back, confused and slightly irritated by the intrusion.
"Some prices are too high, newcomer," she replied cryptically. "Especially for the first purchase. Observe. Learn. Survive."
Then, as quickly as she had appeared, she stepped back, melting into the shifting bodies once more, leaving Kai with more questions than answers. Who was she? And why did she seem intent on guiding him, however obliquely?
The bidding for Pain Transfer reached a staggering sixty-two units, won by the scarred man she had seemed wary of. A predatory grin split his face as the crimson orb representing the power merged with his hand.
Kai watched him, a shiver tracing its way down his spine. He had 100 Soul Units. He had no memory. He had no power. And he was trapped in a hall where souls were currency and survival seemed to depend on preying on others.
The Auctioneer raised its hands, silencing the low murmur that followed the intense bidding.
"The initial offerings are concluded," the voice announced. "Take this interlude to acquaint yourselves with your new reality. The next phase will begin shortly. And the stakes… will be considerably higher."
The platform lights dimmed, plunging the hall back into the oppressive, pulsing crimson glow. The low hum returned, vibrating through the obsidian floor. Kai stood frozen, the woman's warning echoing in his mind. *Observe. Learn. Survive.*
But survival felt like a distant concept. Right now, all he felt was lost. And the chilling certainty that the worst was yet to come settled over him like a shroud.
______
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