The spiral staircase plunged them into a chamber that felt impossibly vast—like the inside of a machine trying to mimic a human mind.
Floating platforms spun in slow, deliberate patterns, each lit by shifting red glyphs.
Below was nothing.
Not darkness—absence.
A single line appeared midair:
ONLY ONE ELIMINATION REMAINS.
The Final Game requires balance. The system will take the weakest link.
Jisoo inhaled sharply. "It's forcing a sacrifice."
Elliot shook his head. "No. Not sacrifice—measurement. It will eliminate whoever drags the algorithm down."
Minho's jaw tightened. "We're not losing anyone. Not now."
The platforms began to move faster, turning into a chaotic dance of light.
Each step they took changed the layout—testing reaction, willpower, fear.
Matthew felt the air vibrate.
The system was reading them.
Searching for fractures.
Harper stumbled, losing footing for a heartbeat. Minho grabbed her wrist, yanking her onto the next platform.
"You good?" he asked.
She nodded—but her reflection in the nearby shard of glass mouthed something different:
You can't keep up.
The system pulsed.
Weakness flagged. Evaluating.
"Run!" Rin shouted. "Don't let it lock onto anyone!"
They sprinted, dodging collapsing tiles and spikes of solid light stabbing from the ceiling.
But the algorithm watched like a predator—its attention narrowing, choosing.
Elliot noticed it first.
"The light is tracking Harper—"
Harper froze, breath hitching. Mathew saw it in her eyes: she wasn't weak—she was overwhelmed.
Too many deaths reflected back at her. Too many memories the system dredged up.
Minho stepped in front of her.
"No," he snarled at the air. "You want someone? Take—"
But the system denied him instantly.
Invalid. Self-sacrifice rejected.
Target must reflect destabilization.
Harper whispered, "It's me… I'm the variable it can't stabilize."
The next platform fractured beneath her feet.
Matthew lunged.
Rin dove too.
Jisoo reached out—
For a second, they caught her fingertips.
Then the lights all turned red.
ELIMINATION CONFIRMED.
A shockwave tore through the chamber. Their grips were broken instantly, their bodies thrown back against the rising platforms.
Harper didn't scream.
She just looked at them with a small, almost relieved smile.
"Win it," she said softly.
Then she fell—
not down, not up, but sideways, into a rift of white noise.
Her body dissolved into data-thread shreds, scattering like fireflies before disappearing completely.
Silence swallowed the chamber.
The platforms stilled.
Only three words remained suspended in the air:
ELIMINATION COMPLETE.
STABILITY RESTORED.
CONTINUE.
Minho collapsed to his knees.
Jisoo lowered her head.
Elliot closed his eyes, breathing slow and sharp.
Matthew clenched his fists.
Rin touched his shoulder gently. "One elimination… but it chose the one who couldn't hide her fear. That's the rule of the Final Game."
He didn't answer.
He couldn't.
They weren't just fighting the system anymore.
They were fighting their own minds.
And Harper's smile stayed with them—
a reminder and a warning.