… Raise thy curtain, let madness commence, and pray thou art not dragged into the tale thyself.
(pause)
…Damn. Speaking like this bard fellow is harder than juggling knives blindfolded. Did that even make sense? Ugh. I don't think I'm doing it right.
sighs dramatically
Such bad writing…You know what? Never mind. I'm taking over now. This whole 'thou art' and 'hark!' nonsense is giving me a migraine.
(voice dripping with amusement)
…Oh, but don't worry, dear readers. I'm not talking to you.
A sly grin.
I'm talking to him. The one behind the curtain. The one pulling strings. The one who thinks he's in control…
A pause. Then a chuckle.
Because let's be honest—our lovely author? Sadistic. Vicious. Deliciously cruel. Plans? Crushed. Dreams? Shattered. Sanity? Optional.
Welcome to the trial, dear readers. Where the stakes are high, the rules are missing, and the only certainty… is suffering.
Oh, and arguments. So many arguments.
Half the cast hasn't even walked on stage yet! And the ones who have? Already bleeding—emotionally, mentally… sometimes literally.
So sit back. Relax. Enjoy the descent.
(he smiles)
Because from here on out?
It only gets worse.
---
Need a refresher on the cannon fodder—ahem, cast? Let's oblige.
Lyra Erso? Dead. Didn't even get her full character arc?. Tragic?.
Sebastian Vale? Worries so much, he probably dreams in disclaimers.
Harrison Greenleaf? Sunshine during a thunderstorm. Likely to get struck.
William Winters? Reads like a history textbook. Dry, with footnotes.
Ren Ashford? A cocktail of secrets, sarcasm, and potential violence. He'll be fun.
Lucas Rossington? Laughs in the face of danger. And taxes.
Marcella De Santos? Plotting? In heels?
Kaida Katsuragi? Bleeding herself dry trying to save Anna. Noble. Exhausting.
Ethan Blackwood? Deserves a nap. Won't get one.
Anna… dear Anna. So sweet. So quiet. So knife-y.
The rest? Still waiting in the wings. Let's hope they don't trip over their own fates before they get a line.
And now… lights up. Let's crash this so-called 'meeting' and watch them flail their way toward a solution. Or a breakdown. Same difference.
BTW, It's Me Joker
---
Descending the stairs with William beside me and Lucas ahead, I got this weird déjà vu. You know the kind—like you've walked these steps before, heard the same creak, saw the same flickering chandelier swing like it's mocking you.
Wasn't this the first time we were heading down?
Or was it the second?
Maybe the fifteenth?
…I needed to stop thinking.
By the time we stepped into the dining room, the atmosphere had already soured like milk left under the sun. The long table, carved from some polished wood too elegant for a haunted house, looked more like a council of war than a dinner setup. Ethan sat at the head, like always — the Prime Minister's kid radiating his born-to-lead aura even when he wasn't trying. Lucas strolled over beside him, like the casual right-hand man he always ends up becoming.
I took my seat next to William — still lost in quiet calculation — and next to me was Kaida, who gave a faint nod, barely perceptible. Beside her stood Anna like a silent sentinel, and beside Kaida was Luna, half-slumped in her chair, as if the furniture itself bored her.
Across the table, to Ethan's left, Harrison tapped the table with theatrical disinterest, Sebastian rolled his eyes with trained flair, Marcella looked seconds away from snapping, Evelyn had arms crossed and expression set to combat mode, and Vivian's entire being exuded don't talk to me energy.
We hadn't even sat down properly before—
Sebastian's voice cut through like a blade.
"About time! You want us to sit here forever?"
Lucas didn't even flinch.
"Chill, man. I just left like a minute ago to get them. What are you yelling for?"
Ethan's tone was level, but the firmness in it made even the air hush up.
"Because it wasn't just a minute. We waited quite a while."
William sat down with a puzzled crease between his brows.
"Wait—what do you mean? You told us to rest. We barely got to our room before you called us back down."
Ethan leaned forward, his hands steepled like he was trying to weigh logic in his palms.
"No, I didn't. I waited quite a while before I called you again."
I leaned back and threw an arm over the chair lazily, eyes flicking to William.
"Didn't I tell you? If you want this place to make sense, forget about how time works. Everyone's probably experiencing it differently now. I mean, it's been a day or so since we came here."
Lucas tilted his head.
"Nah, dude. We've been here for like a week."
Ethan nodded like it was a known fact.
"Exactly. It's been about a week."
I blinked. Slowly. Audibly.
"…What are you talking about? Did you forget the trial? When did Joker tell us about it?"
Ethan, still calm but very sure of himself, said:
"Three days ago."
William looked at me, then back at Ethan like he'd just been told 2+2=17.
"You're seriously telling me it's been three days? And you didn't call us sooner?"
Ethan sighed, like an adult trying to explain algebra to a brick wall.
"I figured this place was playing with our minds. I thought it'd be better if we took some time off, rested, cleared our heads... before talking."
Vivian chimed in, arms crossed, voice sharp as frost.
"Rested? We've been in our rooms waiting for you for what feels like two weeks. We've been stuck in this mansion for over a month."
I stared at her. Then Evelyn. Then the rest of the table. Then back to my brain, which was waving a white flag.
"Alright. Quick check." I raised a hand. "If you know your sense of time feels off—put your hand up."
Everyone's hands went up. Slowly. Reluctantly. But surely.
Cool. Sanity check: failed.
"Okay. If you think we've been here for a week, hands up."
Lucas, Ethan and Harrison, raised theirs.
"And those who think it's only been about a day or so?"
Me. William. Sebastian. A few others.
Sebastian turned sharply to Harrison, irritation clear.
"Seriously? We've been in the same room. How's your time different from mine?"
Harrison blinked, looking genuinely confused.
"What do you mean? Haven't we been here, like, a week?"
Sebastian groaned, exasperated.
"No! A day, max. I thought you were joking when you raised your hand—but you're dead serious, aren't you?"
I raised my hand and slid in before it could devolve into punches and ego bruises.
"Save that argument for later. Now—" I glanced toward Evelyn and Vivian.
"If you've been here for a month... hands up."
They didn't move. Didn't even flinch. Silent statues in military formation.
I gave a slow, knowing smirk.
"Thought so. I'll take that as confirmation." My voice dropped a notch.
"From now on—forget about time. The more you try to make sense of it, the more it messes with you. Just go with the flow. If someone thinks a day passed, and you think it was a week, don't argue. Accept it. Keep moving. Don't freak out. It'll only drag us down."
Ethan nodded, tone quieter now.
"He's right. We need to focus." He paused, glancing at the girls across from him.
"And... I'm sorry. You two. If it really has been that long for you—"
His voice softened to something fragile.
"I can't imagine how hard that must've been. I'm sorry we couldn't help."
Evelyn and Vivian didn't respond. Their silence said more than any words could. Ethan exhaled and looked away.
And just like that, the room fell into a moment of uneasy quiet — the kind you get before a storm. Time was no longer real. Everyone's minds were officially twisted pretzels. And I?
I was finally starting to enjoy this.
---
The dining table was far too big for warmth.
Even with all of us seated—Ethan at the head, the rest of us arranged like chess pieces—the room felt cold. Maybe it was the silence that always followed a reset. Maybe it was Lyra's absence, still burning a hole in the seat no one dared to look at for too long.
Then Ethan spoke.
"Alright, everyone. I know we're all trying not to think too hard about the time situation, but here's the deal—we have to figure out a way to beat this trial. Like that shady guy said, we can't think outside the box when it comes to the trial itself."
His words were crisp, calculated, dependable—just like him. The kind of voice that makes you want to follow, even when you're not sure where it's heading.
But then his eyes landed on me.
"But… he did make a strange exception. Something about you, Ren. Said you can think outside the box, but only if it's not directly about the trial."
The air shifted.
There it was—that prickling sensation at the back of my neck. Like I'd just been marked. Again.
Harrison blinked. Marcella tilted her head. Luna didn't move. But it was Sebastian's stare that burned the most—cutting, cold, suspicious. When I met his eyes, he quickly looked away.
Whatever. The feeling was mutual.
"Which means you might be the loophole," Ethan continued. "The key to spotting things the rest of us might miss. Clues that aren't technically part of the trial, but still important."
Cool. I was the exception. The guy with the mysterious brain. Totally not suspicious at all.
Ethan shifted gears.
"Now… onto the matter of the library—"
I raised a hand lazily.
"Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Aren't we moving a bit too fast?"
He looked confused.
"What do you mean?" Ethan asked.
"Miss Rinka. She's gone. And Harrison mentioned seeing her—said someone called her out before she vanished. Who was it?"
That got them.
The air went still, like everyone had just remembered they'd forgotten something important. A teacher. A presence. A woman who could've—no, should've—been the most reliable adult in this insane place.
No answer.
"I'm not pointing fingers, alright? I'm just saying… it's weird that no one's talking about that. Look, I get it—we're pressed for time. But maybe the way to beat this trial starts with understanding how Lyra died."
I didn't want to say her name. Not really. But it needed to be said.
My gaze landed on Marcella, her posture shrinking like paper left out in the rain.
"Marcy… did Lyra say anything before she left? Anything at all?"
"...Nothing I can remember," she murmured. "It's all kind of blurry."
Convenient. Or maybe not. Trauma did strange things to memory. Especially here.
Then—surprise of the evening—Kaida's voice cut through.
"Can I say something?"
All eyes turned to her. Even Anna, silently standing behind her chair, seemed to glance over.
"It's strange. No one's asked this since we got here… but why is no one talking about why we're here in the first place?"
I couldn't help it. The grin slipped in.
"Oh yeah. I was gonna ask that. But the dead were more interesting, so, priorities."
I caught William giving me a look. One of those "are you serious right now?" stares that made you feel like a poorly written character in his script.
"Seriously? You're enjoying this?"
I gave a shrug and half-smile. Truths can be jokes if you wear them like one.
"Not enjoying. Just… intrigued. If this weren't happening, we'd be bored out of our minds, admit it."
"Cut it out," William snapped, his voice colder than the room.
Ethan didn't scold either of us. He nodded instead, his tone more grounded now.
"Kaida's right. Before we dive into more trial stuff, we should think about why we're here. That might be connected to everything. Honestly, it's strange we haven't brought it up sooner."
He glanced around the room, and for the first time, it felt like he was really seeing all of us. The cracked expressions. The lingering doubts. The things we hadn't said.
"From now on, I'm not brushing off anything anyone says. We investigate the reason before we investigate the dead."
And then—like a poisoned arrow:
"Or maybe you're just avoiding Lyra's death… because you don't want to be found out."
Sebastian's voice, low but sharp.
A low blow, dropped like a lead coin in a wishing well.
William's eyes narrowed like knives. His throat cleared—not loud, but pointed.
A warning.
Sebastian shut his mouth.
Smart. For now.
I leaned back, watching them all. Watching how fast things could tilt.
It wasn't just time that was broken here.
It was everything.
CHAPTER END.