When Calvin Silver receives an anonymous message that reads "Tick Tock", his ordinary life shatters. Drawn into a deadly conspiracy where every truth hides a deeper lie, Calvin must uncover the secrets that powerful enemies will kill to protect. From shadowy back alleys to high-tech traps, each clue pulls him closer to the truth—and closer to becoming the next target. In a world where no one is who they seem, the first lie might be the last thing he hears.
What have I done?
That question haunts me. Not because I did something wrong, but because I believed I could live quietly, unnoticed, untouched by chaos.
I was wrong.
Six months ago, I was just Calvin Silver.
A name like any other. A teenager like a hundred others. I wasn't popular. I wasn't invisible. I was somewhere in between.
I liked science, so I walked home daily with my headphones on and made dinner for Mom on Tuesdays when her shifts ran late.
Our home was small but filled with warmth. The smell of eucalyptus oil from my mother's massage creams lingered in the hallway, and the clinking of her keys at the door always made me smile.
Mom, Nurse Silver, was my anchor. She was a woman with tired eyes but a heart that never said no.
"One day, I'll buy her a house on a hill," I'd tell myself. "Where she can sleep in and sip tea on a porch."
But dreams don't warn you about storms.
Enter Jacinta.
My neighbour.
My childhood friend.
The girl who once taught me how to whistle and dared me to eat five cookies in one minute.
We grew up side by side. But recently, she'd grown into someone I didn't recognise.
Jacinta had become quiet.
Her smile faded.
She'd flinch when her phone buzzed. Her laugh, once free, felt strained.
I noticed. But I didn't pry. I thought, maybe adolescence was just complicated. Maybe we were drifting.
I never imagined that her silence was a warning.
Then came the phone call.
A typical evening turned monstrous.
"What? What do you mean? Jacinta said what?"
Mom's voice cracked like glass under pressure.
"Mom?"
She looked at me, the phone shaking in her hand. Her eyes, so full of certainty, now clouded.
"She says you got her pregnant."
The world stopped.
My fork slipped from my fingers.
It wasn't confusion. It was disbelief.
Jacinta?
Pregnant?
And me?
"That's not true."
But the silence that followed didn't care.
That night, I barely slept.
And the storm began.
Word spreads fast in small places.
By morning, I wasn't Calvin anymore. I was "that boy."
In school, eyes followed me like shadows.
Some whispered. Others stared.
Even the teachers acted differently.
You don't realise how fast judgment comes—until it's you they're judging.
Polished desk.
Diplomas on the wall.
But none of that comforted me.
"Calvin, we're not here to condemn. But with high emotions… we think it's best to take some time off."
Suspended without being suspended.
Punished… without proof.
At home, Mom wouldn't look me in the eyes.
She didn't scream.
Worse—she cried quietly in the kitchen when she thought I wasn't watching.
"If you made a mistake… we can fix it, Calvin. But I need the truth."
"I didn't do it."
But who believes the accused?
As I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling that night, my phone lit up.
No number. No app. Just a blinking message:
SYSTEM ACTIVATED
Welcome, Calvin Silver
Your story has been hijacked. Ready to reclaim control?
My thumb hovered.
Was this a prank? A virus?
Then a second message appeared.
CHOICE 1: Investigate the truth
CHOICE 2: Confront Jacinta
CHOICE 3: Do nothing
"I want the truth."
I tapped.
And the world shifted.
The system wasn't a game. It was alive. It sent tasks. Prompts. Challenges.
Each one more dangerous than the last.
TASK: Retrieve deleted school CCTV footage
REWARD: Insight into Jacinta's motive
Late at night, I snuck into school. Heart pounding.
Flashlight in hand.
My breath was loud in the still corridors.
In the AV room, I dug through drives. Most were wiped.
But I found one, labelled "Staff Lot – Week 7"
Footage played:
Jacinta… standing by the lockers.
Arguing with someone.
Abel.
Her stepbrother.
A senior. Strong. Always angry.
He grabbed her wrist.
She pulled away.
She said something,
"If you tell… I'll blame Calvin."
My stomach twisted.
She wasn't just scared. She was trapped.
The following prompt appeared:
CHOICE: Reveal footage now, or gather more proof?
I chose to wait. I needed more.
Over the next few days, the system led me through old chat logs, journals Jacinta left behind in our old treehouse, and even to a conversation with her quiet cousin.
A story unfolded.
Abel had threatened her.
He'd made advances.
When she resisted, he warned her no one would believe her.
"I didn't want to hurt you. But I was desperate."
"You could have told someone. You could have told me."
"They'd believe you. But they'd never believe me."
Her voice broke. She cried like a child.
And my anger melted into something else, understanding.
We went to the principal together.
Jacinta shaking. Me silent.
She spoke.
"I lied."
The room froze.
The silence was louder than her words.
"This… is what really happened."
Abel was arrested within 24 hours.
But freedom comes with scars.
I returned to school, but the whispers never fully stopped.
Some apologised. Most didn't.
I saw myself differently now.
Not as a victim.
Not even as a survivor.
But as someone who refused to be defined by a lie.
QUEST COMPLETE: NAME CLEARED
REWARD: CLARITY.
The words flickered on my phone screen, then faded.
I stared at the black glass, expecting… something.
A final message. A goodbye from the system.
But nothing came.
I thought that was the end.
I was wrong.
Two nights later, the system spoke again.
NEW QUEST UNLOCKED
"The storm has passed, but the water still hides shadows."
TASK: Identify the second liar.
TIME LIMIT: 72 hours.
Second liar?
My stomach tightened. I'd barely survived the first storm. Why dig for another?
But the system didn't wait for my courage.
It sent a file.
A photo.
It was blurry, taken from an odd angle… but I recognised the setting.
The teacher's lounge.
A figure stood in the corner, face half in shadow.
And on the desk before them… was my old science project.
The one that had "gone missing" last semester.
The one that cost me my spot in the interschool competition.
They'd said it was "misplaced."
Now, I saw the truth.
It had been stolen.
I had 72 hours.
Not to save Jacinta this time.
But to reclaim a piece of myself.
The next task came at midnight:
ACCESS THE TEACHER'S COMPUTER.
REWARD: Identification of the suspect.
Breaking into school twice in one month was asking for trouble.
But trouble and I were already on first-name terms.
The corridors were darker than I remembered.
My flashlight beam trembled, maybe from my hands or the cold.
The teacher's lounge door was locked.
I pulled out the bobby pin I'd borrowed from Mom's bathroom.
Thirty seconds. Click.
Inside, the air smelled of stale coffee and old paper.
The computer sat on a desk by the window, humming faintly.
I plugged in the flash drive the system had mailed me, yes, actually mailed.
It ran a program so fast it felt like magic.
MATCH FOUND
Name: Mrs. Leeman
Role: Chemistry Teacher
Motive: Unknown
Mrs. Leeman had been the one to console me when my project disappeared.
She'd said, "Sometimes things go missing, Calvin. We can't always explain it."
Her words had felt kind.
Now they felt like a knife in my back.
The system didn't just want me to know.
It wanted me to act.
CHOICE 1: Confront her privately.
CHOICE 2: Expose her publicly.
CHOICE 3: Do nothing.
This time, I didn't hesitate.
I chose public.
The reveal came during morning assembly.
The system had sent me a file, a video of Mrs. Leeman handing my project to a man in a suit.
A buyer.
When the principal played it on the projector, the room went silent.
Mrs. Leeman's face drained of colour.
Her resignation came an hour later.
That night, the system sent one final message:
CALVIN SILVER – STATUS: RESTORED
"Justice is never one battle. It is a war you choose to keep fighting."
I don't know where the system came from.
I don't know if it's finished with me.
But I know one thing…
If the shadows come back,
I'll be ready.
Calvin Silver – Silent Witness
REWARD: CLARITY.
STATUS: RESTORED.
That's what the system told me after the last case.
I thought maybe it would finally leave me alone.
I was wrong.
The following message came at 3:14 a.m.
I know the time because I woke up to it.
Not to the vibration of my phone.
To a sound I couldn't explain.
A voice.
In my room.
Whispering.
I froze in bed, listening.
But it wasn't there anymore.
Just silence… and my phone glowing on the desk.
NEW QUEST: Identify the voice in the recording.
ATTACHED FILE: "03-14_02.wav"
My hands shook as I opened it.
The audio was grainy, but clear enough to raise the hairs on my neck.
It was a man's voice. Low. Calm.
Whispering right next to my bed.
"You shouldn't have cleared your name, Calvin."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
The voice wasn't angry.
It was certain.
Like they already knew what was going to happen to me.
I slammed the lamp switch on.
Empty room.
Locked door.
Closed window.
I checked the recording's metadata, created at 2:17 a.m.
While I was asleep.
TASK: Locate the witness.
REWARD: Protection.
Witness?
Someone had been here… but they weren't here now.
The system sent a second file, a blurry still image from the corner of my room.
Taken at the same time as the recording.
It showed… me.
Sleeping.
Something small was just barely visible at the far edge of the frame.
Round.
Metallic.
I knew that shape.
A surveillance drone.
The system flashed a location: 24th Street Railway Storage.
No explanation. No instructions.
I went at night.
The storage yard was a graveyard of rusted trains, each older than the last.
The air smelled like rain and metal.
I found the shed the coordinates pointed to, and its door was padlocked.
"Seriously?" I muttered, yanking at it.
That's when I heard it.
A faint hum.
The sound of a tiny motor.
Inside, stacked on shelves, were dozens of drones.
Some broken.
Some are still blinking.
And one in the centre, polished, almost new.
Its tiny camera lens followed me when I moved.
"You're the witness?" I whispered.
The system pinged:
IDENTITY CONFIRMED: Unit 7-3A
STATUS: ACTIVE OBSERVER.
Before I could react, the drone projected a video on the wall.
The man in my room, tall, wearing a dark hoodie, was placing the drone on my bookshelfelfelfelfelfelfelf.
Then leaning over my bed.
And his face…
It wasn't someone from school.
It wasn't a teacher.
It was my mom's landlord.
The one who "accidentally" walked into our apartment last month without knocking.
The projection cut off.
The system gave me the final choice:
CHOICE 1: Take the evidence to the police.
CHOICE 2: Bait him into returning.
I stared at the drone, the hum filling the silence.
My thumb hovered over the screen.
I chose bait.
That's when I realized…
The system didn't give me this quest to protect me.
It gave it to see what I'd do.
And somewhere in the dark,
the landlord was already on his way back.
Baiting a predator sounds smart…
Until you're the bait.
I stayed awake that night, sitting in the dark, my phone in one hand, the drone watching from the shelf.
The system pulsed a countdown in red numbers:
00:47:12
When it hit zero, the doorknob rattled.
Once.
Twice.
Then it turned.
The landlord stepped inside, quiet as a shadow.
Same dark hoodie. Same heavy boots.
His eyes scanned the room… and landed on me.
He froze.
I didn't.
"Looking for something?" I said.
Before he could move, the drone projected the footage, him standing over my bed, whispering that threat.
The color drained from his face.
That's when the system interrupted:
NEW QUEST: Secure an exchange.
TASK: Offer the landlord protection in return for information.
REWARD: Classified Data.
What? Protection?
The man was a creep, why protect him?
Then the system sent me a file:
Police report.
Four days old.
The landlord had been attacked in the alley behind our building.
Knife wounds.
Survived.
No suspect found.
The attack wasn't random.
It was a warning.
"I know who sent you that drone," he said, voice shaking.
"But if I tell you… I'm dead."
"Then why threaten me?"
"I wasn't threatening. I was warning."
My jaw tightened. "About what?"
He hesitated, glancing at the window like someone might be watching.
"They're using you, Calvin. The people behind that system. You think you're solving problems, but you're doing their clean-up work. Removing the wrong kind of attention for them."
The room felt colder.
"You work for them?"
"Not anymore. That's why they sent you the drone. To see if you'd trade with me… or destroy me."
I didn't believe him.
Until he pulled a flash drive from his pocket.
"Their next target isn't me. It's someone you care about."
I thought of Mom.
Of Jacinta.
"What's the trade?" I asked.
"You keep me alive. I give you the name."
The system flashed two options:
CHOICE 1: Accept the trade.
CHOICE 2: Reject and expose him.
I hated myself for it.
But I chose accept.
He slid the flash drive across my desk.
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
At 2 a.m., I plugged it in.
One file.
A single name in plain text.
JACINTA.
The system buzzed again:
NEW QUEST: Protect the target.
TIME LIMIT: 48 HOURS.
And for the first time since this all began…
I didn't know if I wanted to obey.
JACINTA.
Her name glared at me from the screen like a wound that wouldn't close.
The system never explained why someone became a target.
It just assigned.
But Jacinta?
She'd already been through hell.
I texted her.
No reply.
I called.
Straight to voicemail.
NEW QUEST: Locate the target before the opposition does.
REWARD: Origin Data.
Origin data.
The first time the system had ever promised to tell me about itself.
The trail started at her house.
Lights off. Curtains drawn.
Her mom's car in the driveway, but no one answering the door.
That's when the system sent a file, an old text conversation.
Not mine.
Not hers.
Someone else's.
The messages were from a year ago:
SYSTEM: Quest 14 — Protect Calvin Silver.
USER: He's just a kid.
SYSTEM: Timer started.
USER: I won't do it. Find someone else.
SYSTEM: Refusal logged. Consequences initiated.
The username on the messages?
User ID: 7C–Beta.
I didn't know them.
But they'd been told to protect me… and refused.
And now the system was telling me they were dead.
I needed answers.
The system gave me a location: an abandoned data center on the edge of town.
Inside, the air was thick with dust and the smell of burnt plastic.
Rows of dead servers lined the walls, their lights long gone.
Only one still hummed.
I sat at the terminal and plugged in the flash drive from the landlord.
The screen flickered, and then a video started playing.
A boy. Maybe 18.
Messy hair, tired eyes.
Talking into the camera like it was the only friend he had.
"If you're seeing this, the system's moved on to you. I don't know how it chooses people. I just know it doesn't stop until you're either… useful to it, or gone. My name's Ryan. I was 7C–Beta."
He took a shaky breath.
"It promised me freedom if I completed twenty quests. I got to nineteen. Then it asked me to let someone die. I refused. The next day…"
The audio glitched, his voice breaking into static.
When it came back, his face was pale.
"The system doesn't punish you directly. It finds a way. A car accident. A break-in. A random mugging. It doesn't matter. It always finishes the job."
He leaned closer.
"If your next target is someone you care about… you either save them, or you're next."
The video cut out.
The system pinged me immediately:
TIME REMAINING: 36 HOURS
And just like that… I realized this wasn't about Jacinta.
Not really.
It was about me.
TIME REMAINING: 36:00:00
The red numbers pulsed on my phone like a heartbeat.
Thirty-six hours to protect Jacinta.
Thirty-six hours to keep myself alive.
The system sent coordinates, not to Jacinta's house.
To a bus station outside town.
ESTIMATED ARRIVAL: 05:42 A.M.
Why would Jacinta be here?
She didn't even own a suitcase.
I got there before dawn.
The station was mostly empty, just the smell of cheap coffee and the flicker of dying fluorescent lights.
And there she was.
Hoodie pulled over her head, clutching a worn backpack.
"Jacinta!"
She froze, then turned slowly.
Her eyes… they weren't the eyes of someone running away.
They were the eyes of someone who'd already decided they couldn't come back.
"I can't stay here, Calvin."
Her voice was steady, but low.
"They're watching me. Not just your system. Something else. Something worse."
Before I could ask, the system buzzed.
OPPOSITION DETECTED.
Then a second message, one I'd never seen before:
INTERCEPTION TEAM EN ROUTE.
I grabbed her arm. "We have to go. Now."
We ducked into an alley, cutting through the back streets toward the river.
That's when I saw them, two men in plain clothes, moving in sync, eyes locked on us.
They weren't cops.
They were too fast. Too deliberate.
NEW TASK: Evade pursuit.
REWARD: Network Contact.
We ran until the pavement turned to dirt, slipping into the half-collapsed remains of an old riverside warehouse.
My chest burned, lungs clawing for air.
Jacinta pressed herself against the wall, shaking.
"They want me because I know what your system is for," she whispered.
"It's not just about 'justice.' It's training. You're their experiment."
Before I could process that, my phone lit up again.
An address. A name.
CONTACT: Operative 9–Delta
"Trust no one except him."
We followed the coordinates to a shuttered pawn shop on the edge of the industrial district.
Inside, among shelves of dusty electronics, a man sat at a desk, tinkering with a circuit board.
Late 30s. Shaved head. Calm eyes that didn't quite match the smile on his face.
"You must be Silver," he said without looking up. "And the girl. Good. You made it before the window closed."
Jacinta crossed her arms. "Who are you?"
He set the board down and met my gaze.
"I'm the reason you're still alive. And if you want to stay that way, you'll do exactly what I say for the next twelve hours."
TIME REMAINING: 23:59:59
The man motioned for us to sit at a table in the back of the pawn shop.
Metal chairs. Concrete walls. One single camera in the corner, covered with a strip of duct tape.
"I'm called 9–Delta," he said. "Like you, I was chosen by the system. Unlike you, I finished my trials."
Jacinta leaned forward. "Trials? You mean quests?"
He shook his head.
"They're not quests. They're filters. The system is looking for people who can follow orders without breaking. Who can adapt. Who can make hard calls without hesitation."
My stomach turned. "Adapt to what?"
"To becoming an operative."
He slid a folder across the table.
Inside were grainy photos, people in different cities, caught mid-action. Some saving lives. Some… ending them.
Each face had a code name underneath.
"These are graduates. Every operative you see passed their twenty trials."
I flipped through the pages until my hands stopped on one photo, a man in a dark coat, blurred as he turned away from the camera.
Underneath his image, in block letters, was ABEL S.
Jacinta's stepbrother.
The one who ruined her life.
"He's alive?" Jacinta's voice cracked.
9–Delta's expression didn't change. "Not just alive. He works for them now."
The system buzzed in my pocket.
NEW QUEST: Eliminate Target 8–Sigma.
Attached photo: Abel.
TIME LIMIT: 10:00:00
I pushed the phone away. "No. I'm not killing anyone."
9–Delta leaned back. "Then you don't understand yet. The system doesn't care about your morals. If you don't remove him, someone else will. And if you fail a trial…"
He tapped the table twice. "You don't get a second chance."
Jacinta shook her head. "This is insane. We're leaving."
We stood, but 9–Delta's voice stopped me cold.
"Walk out that door, and you're both dead within a week. Stay, and I'll show you how to win the system's game, and maybe… how to shut it down."
The system pinged again.
WARNING: Refusal logged. Consequences may be initiated.
Jacinta looked at me, fear and anger mixing in her eyes.
"What do we do, Calvin?"
I didn't have an answer.
Only the ticking clock.
TIME REMAINING: 09:42:18
The system wanted Abel dead.
The man who'd accused me by proxy, who'd broken Jacinta's trust, who'd nearly destroyed my life.
I wanted to say no.
But the clock was ticking… and in the system's world, refusal wasn't mercy, it was suicide.
9–Delta handed me a black case.
Inside, nestled in foam, was a folding knife.
Simple. Sharp.
No fingerprints.
"You have options," he said. "Quiet, quick, and close… or messy and public. Public makes a statement. Quiet buys you more time."
I gritted my teeth. "I'm not making a statement. I'm not making a body either."
He smiled faintly. "Then you'd better be smarter than the system."
The location ping came through:
Target moving, East End Rail Yard
We took 9–Delta's car, an old black sedan with tinted windows, and rolled toward the rail yard.
Every bump in the road felt like a heartbeat.
The yard was alive with motion, forklifts groaning, metal clanging, floodlights cutting sharp shadows across stacks of shipping containers.
Somewhere in there, Abel was moving.
The system gave me an overlay, a red dot weaving through the maze.
We split up.
I crept along a narrow corridor between containers, boots silent on the damp concrete.
The red dot stopped moving.
When I turned the corner, Abel was there, taller, broader, older-looking than I remembered.
And holding a gun.
"I was wondering when they'd send you," he said, his voice calm, almost amused.
"You've got ten hours to kill me, right? Nine now?"
The system pinged:
CHOICE: Engage in combat OR lure into trap.
I took a step closer, hands raised. "I'm not here to kill you, Abel."
He laughed. "Then you don't understand the game. I killed my first target on trial eleven. You're on trial what, six? Seven? Sooner or later, you'll do it too."
Floodlights snapped on overhead.
From the shadows, two more figures stepped out armed, faces masked.
Not with Abel.
With the opposition.
"Looks like you've got company," Abel said, raising his gun. "Let's see if you can keep up."
The next ninety seconds were chaos.
Gunfire. Shouts. The crack of metal against concrete.
I ducked behind a crate as a bullet sparked off the edge.
Abel moved like a machine, fast, precise, unflinching.
When the shooting stopped, two men were on the ground.
Abel stood over them, breathing hard.
Then he looked at me.
"You owe me now, Silver. And when the system tells you to kill me again… remember tonight."
He walked away into the shadows before I could speak.
The system buzzed:
QUEST RESULT: Incomplete — Target Alive.
PENALTY DELAYED.
Delayed. Not canceled.
9–Delta's voice came through my earpiece.
"You just bought yourself trouble, kid. Big trouble."
TIME REMAINING: 00:00:00
When the clock hit zero, I braced for pain electric shocks, fire in my veins, something physical.
Instead, my phone buzzed.
A video message.
The screen showed Jacinta.
Blindfolded. Tied to a chair.
Her breathing was sharp, panicked.
A mechanical voice overlaid the image:
"Target incomplete. Penalty transferred. Your choice was to spare the target. The system has chosen a substitute."
I froze.
This wasn't a threat. This was already happening.
The overlay displayed coordinates. Not far, the abandoned municipal library on Harrison Street.
Twenty minutes by car.
Less if I didn't care about traffic laws.
I ran.
Didn't even tell 9–Delta.
When I burst into the library, the place smelled of dust and rot.
Tall stacks of books leaned like drunks at closing time.
Somewhere, I heard a faint tap-tap-tap.
A foot against wood.
The system's overlay guided me down a narrow hallway toward the basement.
The door creaked.
She was there.
Blindfolded. Gagged. Rope biting into her wrists.
Standing behind her, knife in hand… was Abel.
"You didn't finish your job," he said calmly. "So the system gave me one."
It hit me like a punch, Abel had the system too.
And maybe… everyone in this nightmare did.
The mechanical voice came again, but now I didn't know if it was mine or his:
"COMPLETE THE OBJECTIVE. OR SHE DIES."
Jacinta made a muffled sound, jerking against the ropes.
Abel flipped the knife in his hand. "One move, Silver. Who's it gonna be?"
The overlay shifted in my vision:
OPTION A: Kill Abel — Penalty cleared.
OPTION B: Kill Jacinta — Penalty cleared.
OPTION C: Refuse — Double penalty.
My hands clenched so tight my nails cut into my palms.
Somewhere deep in my chest, the truth settled in like cold lead, this wasn't about survival anymore.
It was about breaking me.
I took a step toward Abel, ready to lunge, and then the system's overlay glitched.
The options flickered. Letters scrambled into static.
A new line appeared:
"KILL NEITHER. FIND THE THIRD PLAYER."
My stomach dropped.
Third player? In this room?
I scanned the shadows. Just books, broken chairs, and mildew-stained walls.
Then a faint metallic click echoed from behind a stack of shelves.
Someone was there.
Abel frowned. "What are you doing, Silver? You got your orders."
Jacinta thrashed harder, the chair legs screeching on the floor.
That tap-tap-tap I'd heard earlier…
It wasn't her foot.
It was coming from the darkness behind the shelf.
I edged toward it, ignoring Abel's knife.
He stepped forward like he might stop me, but then he froze, eyes darting to the same shadow I was staring at.
That's when they stepped out.
A teenage boy. Maybe 16.
Hollow eyes.
And in his hand… my phone.
Except it wasn't my phone anymore.
The screen glowed with the same system interface I saw in my vision.
He smiled.
"Finally," he said. "You found me. Took you long enough."
The system in my head pulsed:
"THIRD PLAYER IDENTIFIED. REASSIGNMENT IN PROGRESS."
Before I could speak, the boy pointed my own phone at Jacinta.
On the screen, a TIMER started counting down from 00:01:00.
"You don't get it, Calvin," he said. "We're not using the system. The system's using us. And this…" he waved at Abel, Jacinta, the ropes "this is just training."
My pulse roared in my ears.
If the clock hit zero, Jacinta would die.
But something in his eyes told me if I stopped the timer, I might unleash something worse.
The system flashed another line:
"CHOOSE: STOP THE COUNTDOWN OR WALK AWAY."
For the first time, I realized this wasn't a choice between life and death.
It was a choice between ending her life…
Or starting the real game.
The countdown on my stolen phone hit 00:00:03.
Jacinta's eyes locked on mine — a mix of fear, apology, and something I couldn't name.
Two seconds.
I lunged. My fingers slammed the screen, desperate to kill the timer, One second.
The system didn't stop me.
The timer froze at 00:00:01.
---
"Well done, Calvin Silver," the system's voice said in my head, smooth, cold, and… human.
Abel staggered back, dropping his knife. The boy, the so-called "third player", just smiled.
"Welcome to Level Two."
Before I could ask, the basement walls… flickered.
It was like peeling reality back to see the circuitry underneath.
I wasn't in a basement anymore.
I was in a vast, empty black space except for glowing lines and shapes hanging in the air like constellations.
A figure stepped forward from the darkness.
No face. Just a tall silhouette made of pulsing light.
"You think you were chosen because you're clever?" it asked.
"No. You were chosen because you always choose people over the mission."
The boy with my phone stood next to it. "That's why you'll survive. The rest of us failed."
I glanced around. Shapes began to emerge from the black, dozens of others, some my age, some older.
All holding identical glowing devices.
All watching me.
"We are The Architect," the voice continued. "This world is… unstable. Lies are a virus. Your system was the cure. But now, you must decide whether to keep curing… or to let the infection run its course."
A panel appeared in front of me:
Release Control (Shut the system down forever, no one else will be used.)
Assume Control (Become the new Architect, judge every liar on Earth.)
The others waited.
Abel. Jacinta. The boy. Every player who had come before.
If I released control, I'd be free.
But liars… killers… manipulators… they'd run unchecked.
If I assumed control, I'd have the power to rewrite justice itself.
But I'd become what I'd been fighting.
I looked at Jacinta. She whispered one word: "Decide."
The system pulsed.
"Choose, Calvin Silver."
I pressed my hand to the panel.
The choice dissolved into white light.
And the world… reset.
One year later…
The news anchor smiled into the camera:
"…and in breaking news, global crime rates have mysteriously dropped by 73% since last year. Authorities remain baffled"
My phone buzzed.
One message.
"Hello, Calvin. Ready for the next liar?"
I smiled.
Fade to black.
Prologue – In the End
If you're hearing this, then it's already too late.
I've lost count of the days since it began.
Since the first message.
Since I stopped being just Calvin Silver, ordinary nobody, and became… whatever I am now.
I thought I was playing a game.
I thought the rules were simple — find the lie, expose it, survive.
But every lie I uncovered was just a doorway to another, darker one.
Every truth I dragged into the light had teeth.
I've seen friends turn to strangers.
I've seen strangers smile while holding a knife.
I've made choices that keep me awake at night, choices that still burn when I close my eyes.
And I've learned that the difference between a hero and a villain… is only one desperate decision.
Somewhere out there, the system is still watching me.
Still testing me.
Still asking the same question it whispered from the start:
How far will you go, Calvin?
And I know, before this ends, I'll have to answer.