DEATH REALM — The Labyrinth
— But… that's Nakid !
Yorelei's voice cracked the moment she recognized him standing at the center of the Fifth Floor.
Ysabella turned sharply, eyes already cold, already calculating.
— That man again… It doesn't matter. We move to the center. Now.
A few steps behind them, Rasfi lingered in the shadows, smiling to himself.
They have no idea what I'm about to give them.
He'll accept. I know he will.
And it will be beautiful.
Louis, the hooded man, Ysabella, and Yorelei deliberately ignored the man with the flask as they rushed forward, struggling to keep up with the impossible trajectory of the hooded figure who moved along walls and ceilings as if gravity were optional.
When they finally reached the center—
They stopped.
Not by choice.
Their bodies simply refused to move.
The strongest survivors of the labyrinth were already there.
All of them.
The final players.
Even the man with the flask had arrived, leaning lazily against a wall, laughing under his breath.
— He was far behind us… Yorelei whispered. — That filthy aura again…?
A soft sound echoed.
Ploc.
Something fell from the ceiling.
A baby's pacifier.
It brushed lightly against Yorelei's arm.
Her arm dissolved instantly.
No blood.
No wound.
Just absence.
— AAAAAAAAH!!
Her scream tore through the chamber—until a Bando Clone appeared and clamped a hand over her mouth, silencing her.
Pain.
Panic.
Uncomprehending terror.
Louis staggered back. Ysabella followed.
They were surrounded.
Against one wall, Onimaru watched with folded arms.
He didn't move.
He didn't need to.
He was waiting.
— Why… why aren't they attacking? Ysabella whispered, trembling.
— They're waiting for us to play?! They want this?!
You are the only ones who are afraid.
The voice did not travel through the air.
It appeared directly inside her mind.
— I.. I'm dreaming…? That's not the Game Master—
— He's reading my thoughts?!
Then—
The game began.
Rock. Paper. Scissors.Louis was called first.
Yorelei, pale and shaking, grabbed his sleeve.
— Let me go instead!!
— Paper.
— Rock.
She vanished.
Teleported.
Gone.
She ran.
Alone.
Injured.
Armless.
— I want to redo it…! That's not fair! I want to play again!!
But the labyrinth did not answer.
Louis stepped forward next.
He looked once—just once—at the place where she had disappeared.
Tears blurred his vision.
— Scissors.
— Paper.
— You wish to leave? MazeBoy asked.
— …Yes.
The world shattered.
Louis was thrown back into the forest outside.
— LOUUUUUIS!!
Miya caught him as he collapsed, shaking uncontrollably.
— What happened in there?!
— I… I don't know if they're going to survive…
Back Inside
Nakid hesitated.
Ysabella shoved him forward.
— Go before me.
He looked back.
She met his gaze without flinching.
— I swear to you, she said, I will come back.
Yorelei tried again.
She failed.
Something inside her broke.
Clint laughed.
— Hah… Princesses only know how to cry.
— Survive without honor? Even her clan would reject her.
Nakid lifted his head.
— If I win… can I add a rule?
— I accept, MazeBoy replied instantly.
— Rock.
— Scissors.
Nakid won.
— You may restore the girl's aura… or her arm.
Nakid clenched his fists.
— Her aura.
— I'll heal her outside.
He disappeared.
Rasfi burst into laughter.
— HAHAHAHA! MY TURN!
— Rock.
— Scissors.
— I win, Rasfi said, grinning.
— I will add three rules.
Silence fell like a blade.
— I accept, MazeBoy answered.
Rasfi raised a finger.
"FIRST RULE: Kill each other until only ten players remain."
A second finger.
"SECOND RULE: No one may play Rock–Paper–Scissors anymore."
A third.
"THIRD RULE: Kill those two women… and you may leave."
Ysabella froze.
— …You're insane.
— I'm generous, Rasfi replied.
MazeBoy turned.
— Rock. Paper. Scissors.
— Scissors.
— Scissors.
— Add a rule.
— Cancel everyone's aura until the end.
— I accept.
Yorelei slammed Ysabella against the wall.
— I HAD MY AURA BACK!!
WHY DID YOU TAKE IT AWAY?!
— You never won it!
If everyone kept their aura, we'd already be dead!
Breathing hard, Yorelei stepped forward again.
One more game.
— Paper.
— Paper.
— Restore my arm, she demanded…And change the weapons of the other players.
A long pause.
The air itself seemed to hesitate.
— …I accept.
The labyrinth had stopped being a game.
Now—
It was selection.