Just as the unease in the room began to settle, the digital painting lit up again.
But this time, the voice was different.
Gone was the light, adolescent tone. In its place came a chilling, commanding voice—deep, calm, authoritative. It sent a cold shiver down Vayunesh's spine.
"Five minutes have passed.""Now, the rules of the game: Speechlock—will be explained."
Vayunesh straightened in his chair. So did Jaya on the other side.
The screen pulsed once with eerie static, and then the voice continued, emotionless yet sharp—like a blade scraping stone.
"In this game, each of you is placed in a room divided by a wall. A small square opening connects both sides. On the other side of that opening lies your opponent. A stranger… or perhaps, someone fated."
"Your objective is simple, yet cruel—convince your opponent to surrender. If they agree… they will be immediately eliminated."
A sharp gasp echoed faintly from the other side—Jaya.
Vayunesh's fingers tapped the desk slowly.
"If neither player succeeds in making the other surrender within the next two hours… then both of you will be eliminated."
The room felt colder.
"You will have no knowledge of how much time has passed. The pressure, the pacing… it is yours to interpret. Or misjudge."
A pause.
"Now, for your tools."
The desk in front of Vayunesh vibrated softly. A small panel unlocked with a click.
He opened it.
Dozens of cards lay inside—each sleek, matte black, with glowing white text.
"Inside the deck before you," the voice resumed, "you will find cards. Each card contains a piece of information about your opponent. Their secrets, fears, past crimes, psychological profiles… You may use this information however you see fit."
Vayunesh picked up one of the cards.
His brow raised.
Subject: Jaya Widagdo – Age 21Event Record #032: Incident involving retaliatory murder. Court judgment sealed. Public perception: Mixed.
He let out a slow whistle.
"Each card…" the voice continued, "may serve as a key to manipulation, empathy, threat—or betrayal."
Another pause. But this time, it was heavy.
Then came the real twist.
"Each player may use one global announcement during the game."
"This feature allows you to broadcast any single card—publicly—to all remaining players in the building."
"Even if you die, the information you reveal may make your opponent a target in later rounds… or worse—put their loved ones in danger."
"Why? Because once this round ends, being less targeted will become the most crucial element of survival."
A pause. The silence screamed.
"Remember: some of you still have families. Some of you have no one. But after this game, the line between alive and hunted… becomes thinner."
The painting flickered once.
Then went completely dark.
Vayunesh slowly turned the card over in his hand. His eyes held no smile now—just cold calculation.
On the other side of the room, he could faintly hear Jaya's trembling breath.
And then… silence.
A silence filled with fear, morality, and twisted strategy.
The real game had begun.