The applause was deafening. It came from everywhere at once. Above, below, from all sides. Thousands of voices clapping in perfect unison, creating a sound like thunder trapped in a concrete room. Arden wanted to cover her ears but her hands wouldn't move. She was frozen again. Always frozen when it mattered most.
The game show set was aggressively cheerful. Bright primary colors like a children's television program. The floor was polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the stadium seating that rose up in concentric circles as far as Arden could see. Every seat was filled. Men in suits. Women in evening gowns. Children in school uniforms. Old people. Young people. Dead people. All of them watching with eyes that gleamed with hunger.
The Audience.
Miranda Magnificent stood in the center spotlight wearing a dress that seemed to be made of liquid silver. It caught the light and threw it back in dizzying patterns. Her smile never wavered. Perfect teeth. Perfect hair. Perfect everything except for her eyes, which were completely black. No whites. No irises. Just endless dark that swallowed light instead of reflecting it.
"Welcome, welcome, welcome," Miranda said into her microphone. Her voice was smooth and practiced, the kind of voice that sold products and politicians with equal enthusiasm. "What an honor to have you both here. Two survivors. Two fighters. Two liars." She laughed and the Audience laughed with her. "Oh yes, I said it. Liars. Because that's what makes this game so delicious. Everyone lies. Everyone has secrets. And tonight, we're going to drag those secrets into the light and see which ones of you can survive the truth."
Arden finally found her voice. "This is Station Three. We completed Stations One and Two. We earned the right to move forward."
"Oh sweetie," Miranda said with mock sympathy. "You earn nothing here. You survive. That's all. And survival requires entertainment. The Audience wants a show. They want drama. They want to see you bleed." She gestured to the massive crowd. "Look at them. Look at how hungry they are. They've been dead for so long. Some for decades. Some for centuries. They don't eat. Don't sleep. Don't feel anything except what you make them feel. Your fear. Your pain. Your shame. It's the only thing that reminds them they used to be human."
Kael moved closer to Arden. His presence was solid and real in this nightmare of stage lights and dead eyes. "What do we have to do?"
"I'm so glad you asked." Miranda snapped her fingers and the three podiums lit up from within. Red light for the left podium. Blue light for the right. White light for the center. "It's simple. You stand at your podiums. I ask questions. You answer. The Audience votes on whether you're telling the truth. If they believe you, you get a point. If they think you're lying, you get a shock. Accumulate too many shocks and your heart stops. Game over. Die trying."
"What if we refuse to play?" Arden asked.
"Then you die immediately and we move on to more cooperative contestants." Miranda's smile never faltered. "But where's the fun in that? You've come so far. Survived so much. Don't you want to see if you can make it just a little bit further?"
The screen behind Miranda showed their faces again. Beneath each image were statistics that made Arden's stomach turn.
ARDEN VALE
Age at Death: 21Cause of Death: Vehicle collisionSecrets Detected: 17Lies Told in Life: 2,847Truth Tolerance: LOW
KAEL DRAVEN
Age at Death: 25Cause of Death: Combat explosionSecrets Detected: 23Lies Told in Life: 891Truth Tolerance: MODERATE
"How do you know that?" Kael demanded. "How do you know how many lies we've told?"
"Honey, we know everything. Every word you ever spoke. Every thought you ever had. Every time you smiled when you wanted to scream. Every time you said I'm fine when you were dying inside. Death strips away privacy. You belong to us now. You belong to the Game." Miranda pointed to the podiums. "Now take your places or forfeit your lives. Your choice. Though really, the Audience prefers participation. Dead contestants are so boring."
Arden looked at Kael. His jaw was set in that way she remembered. The way that meant he was deciding something dangerous. She knew that look. Had seen it in her memories of the real Kael. The one who died two years ago. The one this version was supposedly created from.
"We play," Kael said. "But we play together. Whatever happens, we face it together."
"How romantic," Miranda cooed. "The Audience loves romance. Especially doomed romance. And trust me, darlings, yours is very doomed." She gestured toward the podiums. "Arden, you take the red one. Kael, you take the blue. And I'll be here in the white, asking all those uncomfortable questions you've spent your lives avoiding."
Arden walked to the red podium on shaking legs. The metal was cold under her hands when she gripped the edge. Her injured shoulder throbbed. She still hadn't had time to properly assess the damage from the fall in Station Two. Probably a dislocation or a bad sprain. It didn't matter. Pain was becoming background noise. Constant and ignorable.
Kael took his position at the blue podium. He looked calm. Too calm. Like he had already decided he was going to die here and made peace with it. Arden wanted to tell him not to give up. Wanted to tell him they could survive this like they survived the castle and the fall. But the words stuck in her throat.
Because maybe they couldn't survive this. Maybe this was where the Game finally broke them.
"Excellent," Miranda said. The lights dimmed except for the spotlights on the three podiums. "Let's begin with something easy. A warm up question. Just to get your truth muscles loosened up." She consulted a card that appeared in her hand from nowhere. "Arden Vale. Question One. Why did you become a horror writer?"
That was easy. Arden had answered that question a hundred times in interviews and book signings. She had a practiced response ready. But something about the way Miranda asked made her pause. Made her wonder if the practiced response would be enough.
"I write horror because I'm good at imagining the worst possible outcomes," Arden said. "I've always had an anxious mind. Writing helps me control the fear. Put it on the page where it can't hurt me."
Miranda tilted her head. "Is that the truth?"
"Yes."
"The whole truth?"
Arden hesitated. That hesitation cost her. A sharp pain shot through her body. Not quite electric shock. Something worse. Something that felt like her nervous system was being lit on fire from the inside. She gasped and gripped the podium harder.
"Ooh, the Audience doesn't believe you," Miranda said with delight. "Let's try again. Why do you really write horror, Arden? What are you really afraid of?"
The pain faded slowly. Arden's hands were shaking. She looked out at the Audience. Thousands of faces staring back at her. Waiting. Judging. Hungry for her suffering.
"I write horror because I'm afraid of living," Arden said quietly. The words felt like pulling teeth. "I'm afraid of connecting with real people. Afraid of being hurt. Afraid of hurting others. So I create fictional people instead. People I can control. People I can kill when they get too close. It's safer than the real world. Safer than caring about someone who might leave or die or realize I'm not worth loving."
Silence. Then the Audience erupted in applause. The sound was different this time. Pleased. Satisfied. Like they had just eaten something delicious.
"Truth," Miranda announced. Green light flashed across the screen. "One point for Arden Vale. See how easy that was? Just rip your heart open and bleed for us. Nothing to it." She turned to Kael. "Your turn, soldier boy. Question One. Why did you join the military?"
Kael's answer came without hesitation. "To serve my country. To protect people. To have purpose."
The pain hit him immediately. Harder than it hit Arden. He doubled over, his knuckles white on the podium. A strangled sound escaped his throat. The shock lasted longer. Ten seconds. Fifteen. Twenty.
When it finally stopped, Kael was breathing hard. Sweat dripped down his face. But he stayed standing.
"The Audience says no," Miranda sang. "Want to try again? Or should we just keep shocking you until your heart gives out? I'm fine with either option honestly."
"The real reason," Kael said through gritted teeth, "was because I had nowhere else to go. No family. No home. No reason to stay in the civilian world. The military gave me structure. Gave me brothers. Gave me something to die for because I never had anything to live for."
Green light. Applause. "Truth. One point for Kael Draven." Miranda smiled. "Don't you both feel better? Doesn't honesty feel so refreshing?"
The questions came faster after that. Easier ones at first. Surface level truths that stung but didn't destroy.
"Arden, did you ever really love Marcus or were you just afraid of being alone?"
"Afraid of being alone."
Green light. Point.
"Kael, did you hesitate before jumping on that grenade?"
"Yes. For half a second. I wanted to live."
Green light. Point.
"Arden, have you ever plagiarized someone else's work?"
"Once. In college. A short story. I changed enough that no one noticed."
Green light. Point.
"Kael, did you ever kill someone who wasn't an enemy combatant?"
Pause. Long pause. Kael's face went very still. "Yes. During a raid. A boy. He was maybe fifteen. He had a phone in his hand. I thought it was a detonator. It was just a phone. He died before we could get him to a medic."
The Audience went wild. That was the reaction. Not sympathy. Not horror. Excitement. They loved the confession. Loved the weight of it.
Green light. Point.
Arden felt sick. This wasn't just about truth. It was about humiliation. About forcing them to expose their worst moments for entertainment. She wanted to leave. Wanted to run. But there was nowhere to go. The only exit was through.
"Let's kick it up a notch," Miranda said. Her black eyes gleamed. "Time for the questions that really matter. The ones you've spent your whole lives hiding from. Arden Vale. Why did you let your sister drown for forty seven seconds?"
There it was. The question Arden had been dreading since she saw it on the screen at the beginning. The question she had been avoiding for nine years. The question that defined everything she had become.
"I froze," Arden said. "I panicked. I didn't know what to do."
Red light. Pain. Worse than before. This time it felt like her bones were breaking from the inside. She screamed. Couldn't help it. The sound bounced off the stadium walls and came back multiplied.
When it stopped, Arden was on her knees. She had collapsed without realizing it. The podium was the only thing keeping her from falling completely.
"The Audience knows a lie when they hear one," Miranda said pleasantly. "Try again. Why did you let your sister drown?"
Arden pulled herself back to standing. Every muscle in her body protested. She looked at Kael. He was staring at her with an expression she couldn't read. Concern maybe. Or disappointment. Or just exhaustion.
"I let her drown because part of me wanted her to die," Arden said. The words came out broken. Ugly. True. "I was twelve years old and I was jealous of her. Jealous that our mother loved her more. Jealous that she was prettier and funnier and easier to love. When she fell in the water, I thought this is my chance. If she dies, I'll be the only daughter. I'll be the favorite. So I stood there and I counted. One. Two. Three. I counted to forty seven before the guilt overwhelmed the jealousy and I finally screamed for help. By then it was almost too late. She survived but she was never the same. And neither was I."
Silence. Complete silence. Even the Audience was quiet. Arden had given them something real. Something raw and terrible and human. For a moment, she thought they might reject it. Might punish her for the confession.
Then the applause started. Louder than before. Louder than anything. The Audience was on their feet. Screaming. Cheering. Crying. They loved it. Loved her pain. Loved her shame.
Green light. Point.
"Beautiful," Miranda breathed. "Absolutely beautiful. The self loathing. The jealousy. The guilt that shaped your entire life. Chef's kiss." She turned to Kael. "Think you can top that, soldier? Let's see. Kael Draven. Who were you really trying to save when you jumped on that grenade?"
Kael closed his eyes. "My squad. Carter and Jackson. They had families. Kids. People who needed them to come home. I had no one. It was an easy choice."
Red light. The pain took him to his knees too. He made no sound. Just endured it. When it stopped, blood was dripping from his nose. The shock had been strong enough to rupture something internal.
"Wrong," Miranda said. "Who were you really saving?"
"I wasn't saving anyone." Kael wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand. "I was running away. Three days before the accident, I had told someone I loved them. She rejected me. Said I deserved better. Said everyone she loved died and she wouldn't do that to me. When I saw that grenade, I didn't think about Carter or Jackson. I thought about her. I thought if I die, maybe she'll realize she loved me too. Maybe she'll feel guilty enough to finally admit it. I didn't jump on that grenade to save my squad. I jumped on it to punish the girl who broke my heart."
The Audience exploded. This was what they wanted. Two broken people confessing their darkest truths. Two souls stripped bare.
Green light. Point.
Arden stared at Kael. His words echoed in her head. The girl who broke my heart. He was talking about someone from his original life. Before he died. Before the Game. But those memories were supposed to be fragmented. Unclear. How did he remember that moment so clearly?
Unless it wasn't just a memory. Unless it was the truth that defined him. The core of who he was, real or construct or something in between.
"Final round," Miranda announced. The lights dimmed even further. Now only the three podiums were visible in an ocean of darkness. "This is where we separate the survivors from the corpses. One question each. Answer truthfully and you move to Station Four. Lie and you die. Simple as that." She looked at Arden. "Arden Vale. Final question. Did you love Kael Draven?"
Arden's heart stopped. Not from the shock. From the question. From the weight of it. She looked at Kael. He was looking back at her. Waiting. Blood still dripping from his nose. Body broken from the shocks. But his eyes were clear. Present. Real.
She thought about the real Kael. The one who died two years ago. The one who confessed his love in her sister's bathroom while Arden hyperventilated. The one who had kissed her once and she had pushed him away because she was terrified of destroying him the way she destroyed everything she touched.
She thought about this Kael. The construct. The creation. The man made from her memories and guilt. The one who had saved her in the castle. Caught her in the endless fall. Fought a shadow creature with nothing but a piece of rebar. The one who had held her hand and told her she was stronger than she thought.
Were they the same person? Did it matter?
"Yes," Arden said. "I loved him. I love him. I don't know if he's real or if he's something the Game created or if he's my guilt given flesh. I don't know if what I feel is real love or just trauma bonding or desperation. But when I look at him, I feel something. Something big and terrifying and true. So yes. I loved Kael Draven. I love Kael Draven. And I'll probably love him until one of us finally stays dead."
The Audience was silent. Completely silent. Arden's confession hung in the air like smoke.
Then green light flooded the stadium. The applause was thunderous. People were crying. Actually crying. Dead people with tears streaming down their faces because Arden had given them something they had forgotten. Real emotion. Real love. Real humanity.
Miranda was smiling so wide her face looked like it might split. "Truth. Absolute truth. I'm almost moved. Almost." She turned to Kael. "Your turn, darling. Final question. Do you believe you're real?"
Kael went very still. His hands gripped the podium so hard Arden could see his knuckles turning white from across the stage. This was the question that would break him. The question he had been avoiding since the Mirror Maze revelation that hadn't happened yet in the timeline but was coming. The question that cut to the core of his existence.
"No," Kael said quietly. "I don't think I'm real. I think I'm something Arden wrote into existence. A character made flesh. A ghost of a dead man mixed with her memories and guilt. Every time I try to remember my past, it's like watching someone else's life. Like reading a story I wasn't part of. The only memories that feel real are the ones I've made since I woke up on that bus. Everything before that is just fragments. Just data without context."
Red light. Pain. The shock hit him so hard he collapsed completely. Fell off the podium and hit the floor. His body convulsed. The shock kept going. Five seconds. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. Thirty.
"Stop it," Arden screamed. "Stop it, you're killing him!"
"The Audience says he's lying," Miranda said with no emotion at all. Just stating facts. "The shock continues until he tells the truth or dies. Those are the rules."
Forty seconds. Kael's body was seizing. Blood poured from his nose, his ears, his eyes. He was dying. Right there on the polished floor. Dying for the entertainment of thousands of dead souls who fed on his suffering.
Arden didn't think. She jumped off her podium and ran to him. Grabbed his shoulders. Pulled him into her lap. His body was hot to the touch. The electricity was cooking him from the inside.
"The truth," Arden shouted at him. "Tell them the truth, Kael. Please. Don't die. Don't leave me here. Tell them the truth."
Kael's eyes opened. Blood vessels had burst in the whites. He looked at her and for a moment she saw recognition. Not memory. Something deeper. Something that transcended life and death and the difference between real and constructed.
"I believe I'm real," he whispered. Blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth. "Because you believe I'm real. Because when you look at me, you see a person. Not a character. Not a construct. A person who matters. A person who deserves to live. And if you believe it, then it must be true. Because you're the creator. You make things real by writing them. So I must be real. I must be."
Green light. The shock stopped instantly. Kael went limp in Arden's arms. She held him and sobbed. Actually sobbed. The first real tears she had cried since her mother died.
The Audience was silent again. Watching. Waiting. Recording this moment of genuine emotion. Feeding on it. Growing stronger.
"Truth," Miranda said softly. Almost reverently. "Conditional truth. Codependent truth. Truth that only exists because someone else believes in it. But truth nonetheless." She smiled. "Congratulations, contestants. You both survive Station Three. The Audience is satisfied. You gave us the show we wanted. Pain and truth and love and suffering all mixed together. Delicious."
A door appeared at the edge of the stage. Orange this time. Bright and glowing like a sunset. Or like fire.
"Station Four awaits," Miranda said. "The Burning City. I hope you both survive long enough to come back and play again. You're my favorite contestants in decades. Don't die too quickly now. Make it entertaining."
The lights went out. When they came back on, Arden and Kael were alone on the stage. The Audience had vanished. The podiums had vanished. Even Miranda had vanished. Just the two of them and the orange door.
Kael sat up slowly. His nose had stopped bleeding but his face was a mess. His body shook from shock aftereffects. But he was alive. Still alive.
"Did you mean it?" he asked hoarsely. "What you said. About loving me."
"Every word."
"Even if I'm not real?"
"Especially if you're not real. Because that means I created something good for once. Something worth loving instead of something worth fearing."
Kael laughed. It came out wet and broken but it was real laughter. "You're insane. You know that, right? Completely insane."
"I write horror for a living. Insanity is a job requirement."
He stood up carefully. Held out his hand to help her up. Arden took it and let him pull her to her feet. Her shoulder screamed in protest but she ignored it. Pain was still just background noise.
They walked to the orange door together. Arden's hand in Kael's hand. Both of them broken. Both of them surviving anyway.
"Station Four," Kael said. "The Burning City. Any idea what we're walking into?"
"Fire. Lots of fire. And my sister. Lira survived Station One somehow. She'll be in the burning city. And she's going to want revenge."
"For what?"
"For drowning. For existing. For loving you first even if I never said it out loud." Arden looked at Kael. "She hates me. Always has. And now she's going to try to kill me. Or worse, try to kill you to hurt me."
"Then we don't let her. We stick together. We survive together. No matter what Station Four throws at us." He squeezed her hand. "Promise me you won't sacrifice yourself. Promise me you'll fight to live."
"I'll try."
"Promise me, Arden."
She wanted to promise. Wanted to mean it. But she had spent her whole life being the person who hesitated. The person who froze. The person who let bad things happen because taking action felt impossible. How could she promise to fight when fighting had never been in her nature?
But she looked at Kael. At his bloody face and determined eyes. At the man who was real because she believed he was real. At the person she loved in whatever fucked up way she was capable of loving.
"I promise," she said. And meant it. For the first time in her life, she meant it.
They opened the orange door together and stepped through into the fire.